The apparent calm. After two long days driving entirely in the desert straight from the capital, following old tracks cut through by vehicles that sometimes passed, we arrived in this place so unique and beautiful. Soft and sinuous waves of dunes alternate with stretches of flat ground. Everything seemed perfect. Not a breath of wind, which is usual in the Sahara. Time to set up camp and organise dinner. The sun was now setting, temperatures were dropping drastically, it wasn't cold, but the sand no longer retained heat, and a light breeze heralded the unexpected. Almost as if we were surrounded or attacked, perhaps drawn by the light or maybe by the water, some alien-looking insects resembling spiders began to appear from all sides. On our vehicle and then on the tent. Spiders of sizes never seen before, semi-transparent, running strangely very fast. We didn't know what they were or if they were dangerous. It became a nightmare of a night in seconds, fearing they might enter the tent or appear under our feet while we were eating. They were Camel Spiders, but we didn't know that yet. That night was restless, filled with apprehension. The next day we hastily ventured further into the desert, leaving the unsettling encounter with those swift, unfamiliar creatures as a vivid memory etched in the sand.
