I looked from the grumpy camel to his driver who looked as if he was 10 years old and thought this could be an interesting adventure! Clambering aboard I held on tightly, juggling camera and video cam, as the camel hoisted himself to his feet. Camel riding is a strange sensation, especially when you are trying to photograph. No worries, Grumpy Gumba never got out of first gear as we past children playing cricket and ladies in vibrant saris preparing dinner. His friends trotted off into the (almost) sunset, without Gumba batting a long, seductive eyelash, nor changing pace! Clearly we were working to camel time. Go with the flow! Once into the rhythm, and the noise from the village melted away, it was surprisingly pleasant to look around and hear the sound of silence. I dismounted and headed for the nearest dune, away from some French tourists and entrepreneurial locals selling textiles, to sit and watch, in contented solitude, a salmon pink sun slip beyond the horizon. A chilled beer would have rounded off the day nicely, but Gumba and I had some more bonding to do on the return journey before the stars came out…