From Fez to the Desert: The Night the Sandstorm Came
- Jul 24
- 5 min read
Leaving Fez behind, I began the long drive (11 hours) toward the Sahara Desert, watching the landscape slowly transform outside my window...it was amazing!
I'm fully aware that it sounds kind of crazy to drive 11 hours for a one night stay in a tent, in the Sahara...but I guess for me... it's not crazy at all...it's the SAHARA! And it was totally worth the drive!
The crowded streets and ancient walls of the city gradually gave way to open roads, rolling Atlas Mountains, small villages, and long stretches of land that seemed to go on forever. The farther I traveled, the quieter Morocco became. And believe it or not, I actually hired a local kid to come with me. He was so kind and gracious to show me around Chefchaouen and Fez, so I took him with me to the desert too! Actually, he offered! He helped me at the markets and was a lifesaver when I got pulled over for speeding...4 times!
It was beautiful, but the journey came with a small price.
During the drive, as I was pulled over four separate times for speeding.
Four times!
Unfortunately, being stopped repeatedly as a foreign traveler is something many visitors experience in Morocco. But thank God for Zakaria... he spoke wit hthe police each time and talked my speeding tickets down to about $20-$40 US dollars... not too bad!
I learned very quickly to slow down, pay close attention, and expect the unexpected because the police there hid behind random boulders! Crazy! haha
Still, nothing could have prepared me for what was waiting at the end of the drive.
When I finally arrived near the edge of the desert, where it was time to leave my rental car behind... the locals had a camel ride arranged to take me to the camp where I would be spending the night.
I had not organized this, nor did I want to ride a camel. I was grateful for the gesture, but Mercy! Those things are hard to stay on, especially in 75 pmh winds as the storm came in. It was brutally uncomfortable fighting the wind, trying to stay on the camel and not fall off.
The whole thing felt so surreal.
The desert stretched in every direction, vast and silent, with no buildings, roads, no trees or familiar landmarks in sight for as far as you could see. It was the most incredible feeling and also terrifying.
Terrifying because I couldn't escape if I wanted to.
The only sound was the raging wind as the storm rolled in.
Below are a few pics and video from those very moments.
I will never forget looking over to my left, and seeing the dark clouds... and intuitively feeling my stomach just drop... I knew it wasn't going to be good.
At first, the ride felt almost dreamlike.
There was something deeply humbling about entering the desert that way. I felt small beneath the enormous sky, surrounded by a landscape that seemed ancient, untouched, and completely indifferent to time.
But as we traveled farther toward the camp, the atmosphere shifted, and that wanderlust whimsy turned into extreme fear and anxiety.
The wind started to become more brutal...violent almost..so much so that the camel would't even walk anymore.
The sky darkened.
Sand began lifting from the dunes and moving through the air around us. The wind was relentless.
What had begun as a peaceful camel ride quickly became tense and disorienting. The wind grew stronger, and the sandblasted my skin and filled the air around us.
The desert that had seemed so still and beautiful only moments earlier suddenly felt powerful and unpredictable.
By the time I reached the camp, the storm had only intensified. There was a whole team of. people there waiting.. and cooking dinner. Despite the storm, they were so gracious and kind... and the food was so comforting!!
My accommodation for the night was a tent in the middle of the desert. Under normal circumstances, sleeping beneath the Sahara sky would have been magical.
This was my desert tent for the night... beautiful and magical... but the storm brought a whole different vibe!
That night,I was terrified and did not sleep whatsoever!
The wind whipped violently against the sides of the tent, and hearing it flap around scared me to death! Sand blew through every small opening and gathered around me. The fabric shook and strained throughout the night, and each powerful gust made me wonder whether the entire tent might collapse or blow away.
There was nowhere else to go.
No hotel nearby.
No car waiting outside.
No quick escape from the desert...and you can't even try because there was no way to orient yourself to anything...just beautiful, vast desert for as far as you can see.
I was alone inside the tent, listening to the storm rage around me, feeling completely exposed to the elements.
It became one of the scariest nights of my life.
Finally, around 3 am I was so scared I got on the floor next to my bed and just prayed... and within about 30 minutes or so.. it finally calmed down.
Travel is often presented through beautiful photographs and carefully edited moments. We see sunsets, exotic landscapes, and smiling faces, but we rarely see the fear, uncertainty, and vulnerability that can exist behind those images... and let me tell you, it's very real at times!
That night in the Sahara reminded me that getting outside ourselves is not always comfortable.
Sometimes it asks us to surrender control.
Sometimes it reveals how small we truly are...and for some damn reason I love that feeling.
And sometimes the moments we would never choose become the stories we remember most clearly.
By morning, the storm had passed. The desert was quiet again, as though nothing had happened.
The same dunes that had felt threatening in the darkness looked soft and golden beneath the morning light... and the stillness was like nothing I've ever felt. The silence returned, and the landscape once again opened up to a great big sky.
But I was different. And getting lost in these pictures...takes me right back to that moment!
I had arrived expecting a beautiful night beneath the stars.
Instead, the desert gave me a lesson in humility, courage, and the fragile illusion of control.
Morocco had already surprised me many times, but that journey from Fez into the Sahara became one of the most unforgettable experiences of the entire trip.
Not because everything went according to plan.
But because nothing did.
The desert reminded me that surrender isn’t the end of the journey, it is often where the deepest transformation begins.
Yours truly,
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