In a new series So, is it worth it? our experts put popular travel experiences to the test to see if they’re really worth your time and money. This week, we’re desert camping.
I’ve never really understood the appeal of camping. It’s about as far from my idea of fun as a holiday can get.
I promise, I have tried, but between the damp sleeping bags, the suspicious noises, the less-than-optimal bathroom facilities, it’s always been too ‘character-building’ for my taste.
So, when I was invited to spend a night under the stars in the middle of the Moroccan desert, I knew I was in for a revelation… or a breakdown.
How it went
After landing in Errachidia, a city in southeastern Morocco, we set off for Erg Chebbi, a spectacular stretch of orange-gold dunes near the town of Merzouga, just shy of the Algerian border.
As soon as the dunes appeared on the horizon, I could see why filmmakers use the desert as shorthand for ‘otherworldly’. The sand glowed, and the silence – once I got over how total it was – felt almost holy.
After an hour of twists and turns, the driver pulled over and gestured to a small caravan of camels waiting at the edge of the dunes.
I had been on a camel before, and found it nothing to write home about. But this time felt different. The silence was deeper, and the animals were allowed to roam as they pleased, rather than plodding along in single file.
Once the guide stepped back, they moved with an easy, instinctive freedom. And as I watched our shadows stretch long across the sand, my thoughts quietened.
Back at the Bivouacs Xaluca camp, staff welcomed us with traditional robes and helped us settle in.
I was relieved to find my tent equipped with an actual bed (and sheets!), soft lantern lights and a private bathroom tucked behind a heavy curtain.
This didn’t have any walls but offered all the amenities you’d expect at a hotel. Two chairs and a small table were positioned in front of the tent’s only window.
The decor was basic, but inviting. There was air conditioning, but I found the temperature comfortable without.
The first real test was the shower, which turned out to be perfectly warm and was made even better by the soft robe waiting afterwards.
Once ready, I made my way to the communal tent, where Gnawa musicians played hypnotic music on metal castanets.
Dinner was served, a sumptuous feast of chicken skewers, roasted vegetables, lamb tagine and yoghurt, washed down with traditional Moroccan mint tea.
After more music and dancing, I climbed the dune in the middle of the camp to see the stars. The clouds that accompanied us during the day had opened up and, far removed from urban light pollution, the night sky looked like it had been switched to HD.
The romance of it all faded a bit after the meal, when the chill set in and I made my way back to the tent.
A little cricket was waiting for me inside, and had to be promptly escorted to the door. Luckily, it was my only encounter with local fauna (camels excluded), but I did make a conscious effort to keep on top of my repellent spray routine.
I fell asleep easily, in almost complete silence and darkness. During the night, the wind picked up, rattling the canvas hard enough to wake me. For a little while, I was worried that the whole tent would come down.
Of course, it didn’t, but I still woke early to watch the sunrise before breakfast. And what an incredible spectacle it was.
Would I recommend it?
Yes, in a heartbeat. I still loathe the idea of tents pitched in muddy fields, but I must admit I really enjoyed my time in Morocco.
After all, maybe it’s true that the desert has a way of humbling even the most reluctant adventurer.
For me, it was proof that comfort and wilderness can coexist.
