Camel Trekking in Rajasthan

By James Stone

A rickshaw driver stole my wallet on the first day in Delhi, so I decided I didn't like that city too much.

I met a Dutch guy at a hostel, Thomas (pronounced Toe-mars), who felt the same about the Indian capital, so we decided to team up and get out fast by heading east to the state of Rajasthan.

Reeling a little from the all-out craziness of Delhi – where we had both been accosted and cajoled by all manner of people (we obviously looked like clueless tourists) – we headed out east, as far east as you can get in Rajasthan – to a sleepy, sandstone town called Jaisalmer.

It took us a day and a half to get there on the dusty train, but Jaisalmer was quite something. It sprang out of the desert, taking us by surprise initially, but in no time established itself as an oasis of other-worldly calm. The people there – both westerners and locals – were of a chilled temperament; and I have no doubt this was partly to do with the various 'soothing' properties of the cookies and lassis on sale at the market.

But it was also the town itself. A big standstone castle with tawny blond ramparts, towers and huge gates – sleeping benignly like a great lion. It looked like a page out of a kids' story book – but with the added pleasure of balmy breezes rolling down the castle steps and into the town at dusk.

Well, after several days of maxing out on our capacity to chill, we decided it was time to do something. The camel trek, for which Jaisalmer is famed, beckoned.

Hanging out at cafes Thomas and I got together a nice little international troupe of fellow adventurers. Rebecca and John from Canada, Jonina from Israel and Yohan from Germany.

Getting on the camel at the start of the three day trek was very weird, I have to admit. First you wrestle your way onto the top of the camel, seated. Everything seems ok: the camel is still. But then the mini hillock of fur and grains of sand that you've just climbed turns to jelly, and the horizon rocks as the camel gets onto its knees and hind legs. Then things are cranked up a notch further, with the camel leaning precariously back and forth as it makes its way into a fully upright position.

The rhythm of the camel as it walks (or runs) is equally disconcerting: its persistent undulation is somewhere cross between riding a horse and riding an escalator.

Things are fine once you get going through the Thar desert, though. The view across the sandy and rocky, slightly lunar, landscape, is spectacular.

A word of warning though for the lads. Once the camel march is in full swing, the back of the camel's hump is not necessarily too kind to the nether regions.

Sleeping under the stars was cool though. Our guide, Amjad, brought some beers and we had a bit of a group bonding session by our tents which finished things off nicely.

One thing to mention about the stars. Like me, you may have heard tales about how in the desert in Rajasthan you can see further into the universe than you'd ever imagined; 'the stars will extend into an extra dimension', etc. Well, I'm afraid I saw jack all. The sky was clear – zero clouds and zero light pollution. It was the moon that ruined things. It was full. So if you do hope to peer into the furthest recesses of the Milky Way as part of your Rajasthan adventure, my advice is to check the lunar calendar.