It is surprising what you can learn from a 24 hour camel safari. In the Thar Desert in India I discovered how a milimetre insect can reduce a 17 stone man to a jibbering wreck and also how to disgust a 12 year old Indian schoolboy.

The day started quietly enough with an hour long jeep ride out of Jaisalmer to meet our camels. As big Mike, six foot tall and nearly as wide, climbed out of the jeep, the camel wallahs blanched and held a huddled conference before leading him to the largest sturdiest beast. As they fussed over Mike, we women were left to choose our own animals. I looked into all the camels' doleful eyes in turn but received no signal saying 'Pick me, oh Netjetter' so chose the one with the least flies round his nose and a pretty blue flowery seat. When I asked what his name was, the camel man uttered a gutteral 'Drrrrrr'. Ignoring the possibility that he was taking the piss I climbed aboard Drrrrr, who was kneeling obediently on the ground. As he unfolded his gangly legs to stand up it was a close call as to which end I would slither off but I managed to cling on and once Drrrrr was stabilised I settled comfortably on my high perch.
We trotted contentedly up and down sweeping dunes through the bright yellow sand. The desert itself was silent but the camels provided a continuous sound track of desert-rat battles - Gatling guns of farting and artillery barrages of dung thudding into the sand.
Slightly saddle sore but happy we reached our destination ‘sunset point’, where the camel trains gather in the late afternoon. A young lad, laden down with Coke in a basket of ice, ran barefoot beside us until we finally stopped and dismounted. His reward was the sale of four bottles to our thirsty band and he settled down beside us to watch the sun setting.
Though free of tummy troubles, I'd acquired a streaming cold caught from Mike, who acknowledged his guilt by crying ‘Bless you, sorry’ every time I sneezed. My nose was in full flow and I gave it an almighty blow into a handful of tissues, before putting the soggy bundle into my pocket. The boy looked at me as if I had just smeared myself with camel dung and let out an involuntary 'ugh' of disgust. The others were laughing so much they rolled down the dune and the poor lad was confused and worried. For my part it was a salutary lesson in not judging cultural differences but I still couldn't bring myself to blow onto the ground as the Indians do and continued with my revolting practice of walking about with a pocket full of snot.
When the last of the red rays disappeared below the dunes we headed for our campsite. The blue and orange stripy tents were already up and the crew was busy cooking our dinner. Sitting on rugs around a campfire drinking beer in the middle of the desert was a fitting end to a good day. I was feeling decidedly rough from my cold but big Mike had other troubles. He discovered that his camel had off-loaded one of its tics into his leg and immediately reverted to small boy mode, reminding me of my son who, when his first milk tooth fell out, stood in the middle of Cambridge howling that he was going to die. The patient camel man assured Mike that it wasn't fatal and once blasted with suncream could be pulled out the next day. Mike still checked every five minutes to make sure his leg hadn't fallen off or been invaded by the vengeful mates of his dying tic. He went off to bed looking pale and anxious.
I woke at about 2 am to wander out to my chosen bush. The moonlight covered the desert with a ghostly silver glow, bright enough to silhouette the dunes, sparse trees and tents. This was my first experience of desert and I felt very drawn to its austere beauty and seductive silence. I sat away from the tents under the moon enjoying a few moments alone savouring my surroundings until the sharp cold drove me back under the covers.
What seemed minutes later, I was woken for breakfast, eaten as the pink dawn spread over the sky and the dunes. I could quite happily have stayed longer in the desert, but tour schedules are tight and it was time to trot back to our starting point and return to the city. I felt that Drrrr and I had bonded in our short time together and I was sad to say goodbye.