I just got back from the desert and I leave for Rome in 6 hours and somewhere in that 6 hours I have to finish my laundry, shower, pack and sleep. So it breaks my heart to tell you that you're just going to have to wait for all the good stories of my Grand Sahara Adventure.
Except for this one:
We went riding on camels through sand dunes this morning (As awesome as it sounds. No, wait, even more awesome.) and about halfway through I noticed that my saddle was slipping further and further down the camel's hump (at this point it is important to note that riding a camel is no easy task. There is a whole lot of jostling) so I turned back to our guide, Neila, who speaks moderate English and yelled, "My saddle is slipping. Can you tell the guy my saddle is slipping?" And she either didn't hear me or didn't understand because she just smiled and waved. So then I screamed back, through the laughing, "Seriously, my saddle is really slipping." And again, she just smiled and waved. So then Megan, who was riding between us, got in on the act, "Neila, tell the guide that Rachel is about to fall off the camel and to stop!" And again, Neila just smiled and waved. Finally Megan remembered the Arabic word for back (which has escaped me) and shouted it out and pointed to me, now bouncing along on the camel's butt with his tail flying up and swatting my back and I'm holding on to the saddle for dear life and laughing like a loon, and both Neila and the guide figured out what is going on and stopped the train just as I'm tilting backwards. It was hilarious, to say the least.
Later I'll tell you about my bout of food poisoning (I prayed for death), my trip to the Star Wars set, my stint as a falconer, and how I shrewdly upped my marriage price to 300 camels.
Florence of Arabia