We took a morning trip to a stretch of desert about an hour outside of Dubai, unleashing SUVs on the dunes (apparently driving aggressively along the crests of the dunes with semi-deflated tires is called ‘dune-bashing’), doing a bit sandboarding and a bit more of sandrolling, and hopping onto a camel’s back for a brief walk-around.
The desert is a bizarre place where I’ve decided I would not like to spend a lot of time. Luckily, at this time of year, it wasn’t oppressively hot, and we so enjoyed our time among the dunes, jumping and running along the ridges and flailing some sand angels out of the neatly windbrushed ground. The sand here is incredibly fine, much more than any beach I’ve visited, which is comfortably, but conversely, embeds itself into every possible nook and cranny you can imagine in your clothes.
[certain photo credits: Emily Reasor]