One day in the desert

Last week I was dragged into something I never imagined myself doing - taking an off-road trip to the desert. Had it not been part of a work assignment, I would not have considered it in the first place.

You see, I am a comfort creature par excellence. My favourite sports are chess, backgammon, card games and occasional walking in comfy shoes. I never understood sports that require endless training, stubborn persistence and lots of physical effort. Life is short anyway, so why bother?

I know that trainers and coaches like to yell in everyone's face their best line: "No pain, no gain!" My answer has always been: "No pain, no pain - fine with me!"

In short, you will never find me doing scuba-diving, mountain-biking, ice-skating, water-surfing or air-gliding.

Any of the above requires serious financial investment in pricey equipment, clothes, gadgets, boats and cars and most importantly: sweat.

I invest in TV remote controls. Sofas are nice, too.

Don't get me wrong; I like being active - but I am not willing to throw myself from an airplane hugged by a stranger I just met, in pursuit of some life threatening freefall!

I happen to like adventure, too! For that I simply go to the mall, where I can find a good cup of coffee, few books to browse and lots of silly items on permanent sale.

Resisted

So when my friends dragged me to that off-road trip, I resisted for the longest time, to no avail. As soon as the car steered away from all signs of civilisation and headed deep into the empty desert, I panicked. The car was stubbornly crushing stones, falling in small holes, climbing on small bushes; things that I normally discourage and find unthinkable!

I murmured few colourful, unprintable phrases referring to the hazards of the road and to the immediate need for ending the trip - but all my protests were duly ignored. We had a job to do in the middle of the fine desert!

After a lifetime of jumping and shaking on my seat, I flipped. I accused my colleagues of road terrorism; kidnapping someone and taking him, against his will, into the desert. I declared myself a hostage and demanded immediate release.

I announced that I desperately need a hot cup of cappuccino, and that I can't see any place that serves it in the wilderness they took me to.

My colleagues had other things on their minds. The driver was busy watching the GPS and arguing, in French, with her companion in the front seat. I discovered that the French argue in ways much worse than Arabs. They raise their voices, get emotional and lose all sense of their surroundings, only to calm down in few minutes as if nothing happened. The Egyptian girl next to me was cracking jokes and having a blast, in typical Egyptian eternally good mood.

All three girls would jump in excitement at the mere sight of few camels or a bunch of deer; cameras would be pointed outside of windows and shouts were given to the driver: "Let's follow them!"

Follow them where? I would wonder loudly in total disbelief! The Lebanese cameraman had a worried look on his face. He and I felt like depressed party poopers among a cheerful female crowd.

In typical manly thinking, we kept focusing on the negative side of things - what if the radiator blew up? What if the tires got flat? What if the GPS went dead? None of that bothered our female colleagues. They were busy cheering camels and deer while praying for more animals to show up!

Finally we reached our destination. The fading sun rays were leaving a distinct colour on the hills around us. The peace and tranquillity were simply irresistible.

All of us were mesmerised by the beauty of clean nature. We finished our shooting and sat there on the sand listening to the wind. It dawned on me that there is something spectacular here about the desert. It allows you to connect with your soul, away from clutter, noise and intrusions. I was grateful and happy to make that trip. Some places stay magically with you. That's the beauty of the desert. I am going back.

Ahmad Zahzah is a media consultant based in UAE.