Small blades of grass burst from the rocky desert planes after a blessed soaking, covering the dunes in a green peach fuzz only caught at a certain angle of the light. The water here is rocky-mountain ice cold. The wind crashes heavy against our bodies numbing our skin; we keep warm by wrapping ourselves in cocoons of wool blankets, neutral in color but striped black and white. Black coffee and hot green tea are a staple here.
Clouds play hide and seek with the dunes, casting shadows over some and illuminating others with gold and pink light, while the Atlas mountains look on with grandfatherly supervision. The fortitude of the desert brings a kind of quiet surrender. Here, there is nothing and everything to listen to at once.
Set at the foot of the Atlas Mountains just an hour away from Marrakech, sits the solitary Agafay Desert. It’s a martian landscape- with dunes made of small stones, not sand. At the traveling Scarabeo Desert Camp, billowing white cotton tents both private and spacious offer a comforting place to rest and detach yourself from the fuss of the outside world. Glittering silver plates, pounded copper bowls, woven African mats and an eclectic mix of vintage pieces accessorize this rustic yet contemporary camp setting. Indulge in divine traditional tapas style lunches; share rounds of cauliflower scrambled in eggs, julienned curried mangos, diced beets with feta and fragrant mint. The camp offers optional yoga classes, camel rides, dune buggy tours and more. If you're like me, you might opt for taking a book and wandering as far as you can and letting silence absorb you. Take your time here and let the rules of the desert take over.
