There are several images that come to mind while envisioning a trip to India: historic monuments such as the Taj Mahal, bustling cities like New Delhi or Mumbai, the tropical waters of Kerala or Goa, sacred temples and places like Varanasi, mouth-watering cuisine, and diverse and festive culture. But riding a camel through a desolate desert? Not particularly. Morocco or Egypt seem more fitting for that. However, when I first began researching for my India trip, I found that camels are indeed widely prevalent in India, especially in the western state of Rajasthan. Camel safaris are offered in the city of Jaisalmer, allowing visitors to follow in the footsteps of Silk Road traders and get a feel of life in the desert. This immediately went to the top of my India itinerary.

While visiting Jaisalmer, the Indian city located in the heart of the Thar Desert, (read my post on Jaisalmer here) you will inevitably hear multiple times about the opportunity to go on an overnight camel safari. Nearly every hotel has their own safari business, and there are dozens of independent tour companies offering similar services as well. With an abundance of options, it is advised to read reviews and ask around, as there is a wide range of tour prices and quality, and some are better than others. I went with a small independent company called The Real Deal Rajasthan Camel Safari and had an excellent experience that I would recommend to anyone visiting Jaisalmer.

The Real Deal offers several different tour options from one day to three night trips, luxury camping in a tent with a bed and hot shot showers, to sleeping outside under the stars. Some packages include a night time cultural program with traditional music and dances. Most people do an overnight trip, arriving at camp for the sunset and dinner and heading back to Jaisalmer after sunrise and breakfast the next morning. I opted for the basic 2 Day and 2 Night option, costing about 45 USD (the price is surprisingly cheap as it includes a guided camel ride, all your food–and plenty of it, and a bed and blankets for the night). For under 25 USD per day, this is a bargain! I likely would have spent more just for my hotel and food for a day in Jaisalmer. 

The first day, it was just me and an older French couple, who were doing an overnight trip. We left Jaisalmer at 2PM and drove about two hours out into the desert with our guide, and owner of the company, Fatan. Along the way, we stopped at an old abandoned village where Fatan taught us how the homes were built, using a mixture of stones, cow dung, and mud, and thatched roofs constructed with sticks from the desert bush; this technique is still often used today in some of the small villages. Vibrant blue peacocks and, of course, camels were abound all along the road as we drove deeper into the desert.

Around 4PM, we reached a little village where our guides and camels were waiting for us. My camel was a male of six years old by the name of Kilta. This was the first time I had ever viewed a camel from up close, and I can honestly say they are some of the most awkward-looking and ugliest creatures I’ve come across, but at the same time, quite charming and–almost–cute. Kilta was close to 10 feet tall when he stood up straight and nothing about the proportions of his body seemed to make any sense–the legs and neck were way too long, the head and teeth much too large. The way in which they walk is almost comical, as their long lanky legs seem to snap outwards with each step, resembling the way Woody’s steed, Bullseye would gallop in Toy Story. A camel is like that tall awkward middle schooler who hadn’t quite grew into his frame yet, and whose height far outpaced his coordination. Despite the odd outward appearance, camels are perfectly adapted to a life in the desert. While they are capable of eating and drinking A LOT at a time (as I would learn over two days of riding them), they can go up to a week without food or water.

We rode for about an hour to the campsite, which was nestled on a long stretch of sand dune. I had expected to see many other tour groups there as well, but we had only come across one, and their camp was a few hundred yards way, hidden by the tall dunes. We had this piece of sand all to ourselves, and this is where all the magic happened.

The camp was small and just consisted of two open makeshift open-air shelters–one for the kitchen and one for the beds–constructed with wood scavenged from the desert. Fatan and another guide were already there waiting for us and preparing dinner over the campfire. With a cup of masala chai in hand, I watched the sun set over the distant desert while waiting for dinner. The meal consisted of Aloo Gobi (potatoes and cauliflower sautéed in Indian spices), with rice, dal, and homemade chapatti. It was a feast comparable to anything I would receive in an restaurant, and as it always goes with camping and cooking over the fire, tasted even better out in the desert.

Fatan told us how during his childhood, this is how he and his family used to live–desert nomads who constantly moved around, grazing their herds of camels, constructing makeshift shelters like this and cooking dinner over the fire every night. No one really lives like this anymore, he explained to us. Most families now live in the villages and the father will go out for days at a time to graze the camels before returning to the village. Fatan was part of the last generation of true desert nomads.

We sat around the campfire telling stories until darkness overtook us and we retired to our cots, spread out over the sand, under the expanse of the clear night sky.

The next day, the French couple went back to the village in the jeep with Fatan and I continued on with a new guide, Sambo, and a new camel, Mr. Lucky. We rode for another couple hours, stopping in a small village and then again for lunch. Sambo prepared me another massive and delicious meal over a small campfire (you seriously will not go hungry here). After lunch, we made our way back towards camp.

Sambo spoke some English, but our conversation was mostly strained. We rode most of the way in silence, periodically broken by his out-of-tune belting of John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” where many of the words were placed out of order. This irritated me at first, but by the end I was singing along as well. Other than those moments, the desert held an eerie silence as I gazed out across the expanse. I imagined what it must have been like for the traders and merchants that spent weeks traveling across the same landscape, looking at the same views day after day, in the hopes of gaining riches upon arrival in Europe. I can at least be certain they had sore butts, as mine was in aching pain by the end of the day. It didn’t help that Mr. Lucky stopped at every bush to stop and feed, completely ignoring my instructions to keep moving on. I mentioned earlier how camels can go up to a week without eating, but that doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy eating, and, boy, did Mr. Lucky like to eat.

At last, we made it back. It was nearly sunset by the time we arrived, so I took my camera and walked across the dunes while Sambo made dinner. The sunset that evening may have been the most impressive one I’ve ever witnessed as it breathed orange and pink flames across the wide open sky.

Back at camp, we were joined by an old desert nomad, a friend of Sambo, who would feast with us and sleep at our camp that night. He and Sambo talked over tea deep into the night while I tended the fire, lost in my own thoughts. This old man was a true soul of the desert, clinging to a traditional way of life, a way so many others have abandoned. His skin was wrinkled from years of wear under the sweltering sun, and his vivid peacock-colored eyes reflected the wisdom of a lifetime of wandering the desert, tending to his camels and learning from the land.

The camels are always set loose at night to wander and feed, and are found in the morning, an event that can sometimes take up to a couple hours. This is one way to distinguish between tour companies that treat their camels well, or, are cruel and abusive to the creatures, as many will tie their legs at night so they can’t wander off (Fatan’s has had his camels for many years and they are considered part of the family, but I have heard that many others are not so kind to their animals. Make sure to take this into consideration before booking a tour).

As I lay in my cot, watching shooting stars dart across the black canvas above, I could faintly hear Mr. Lucky’s bell ringing in the distance, slowly fading off into the night, until sleep gradually overtook me.