Absolute Desert Sahara with Michael Palin

The Niger River brought me to the heart of the Sahara but no further.

From here on, the only ships I'll see are ships of the desert

and where better to get acquainted with them than the city of Timbuktu?

CAMEL GROANS

Well, I've reached Timbuktu.

-CAMEL GRUNTS

-I said I've reached Timbuktu.

-CAMEL GRUNTS

-Not again - I've reached Timbuktu!

And...back in the Sahara,

for the first time in the land of the Tuareg,

the Saharan nomad traders who founded Timbuktu about 800 years ago as a trading post

for that most precious commodity of the Sahara - salt.

The extraordinary thing is that still today

the salt is brought down on camels in these great tablets, as it was all those years ago,

from the mines 800km up into the desert.

Nothing's really changed, has it? Well, you've changed, but...

you look the same as the original camels and herders, don't you?

How is it lugging all that salt around? It must be sheer hell!

Is it nice now it's finished?

-CAMEL GRUNTS

-Yeah.

'But things HAVE changed.'

Today, the Tuareg are more likely to be found camped against the walls,

sheltering from the desert,

and the walls aren't what they were.

Once inside the crumbling ramparts,

it's hard to tell what it is about this desert city

that has enthralled travellers

and why it is that so many risked their lives to reach these streets.

This mosque is evidence of the golden age of Timbuktu.

El-Saheli, inventor of mud-brick architecture,

designed and built it for Mansa Moussa, the immensely rich emperor,

at a time when Mali was the greatest empire in Africa.

This great mosque here at Timbuktu is an extraordinarily powerful and quietly affecting building.

It's built on almost 100 columns

and it creates a sort of forest of cool

in this cauldron of heat outside.

It was originally constructed in 1325

and the sheer scale of the place is testimony

to the power of the Islamic presence in the Middle Ages.

# Allahu akbar. #

It's Friday in Timbuktu, the holiest day of the week for Muslims,

and, after prayers, the imam invites me back to his house.

-16th century.

-Alors, tu vois maintenant la lune, le soleil...

'The imam has scientific texts that clearly show the planets circling the sun.

'They date back hundreds of years, preserved by the dry desert air.

'It's convincing evidence that the scholars of Timbuktu knew a lot more than their counterparts in Europe.'

In 15th-century Timbuktu, the mathematicians knew about rotation of the planets and the eclipse.

They knew things we had to wait for 150 years to know in Europe,

when Galileo and Copernicus came up with these same calculations...

..and were given a hard time for it.

CHILDREN RECITE THE KORAN

In another part of the imam's house

is a school where children learn the Koran.

On est en train de lutter

afin que Tombouctou retrouve son visage d'avant...

He explained to me that he hopes that Timbuktu can one day regain some of its former glory

and become once again the great centre of scholarship.

..que Tombouctou puisse retrouver sa culture d'avant.

CHILDREN RECITE

After the Middle Ages, Timbuktu slid into decline,

but its mystique grew, stoked by the fact that no-one could get to it.

In 1826, a Scot, Alexander Laing, rediscovered Timbuktu.

'His house is for sale, if you fancy a weekend hideaway.'

Over a period of about 350 years,

43 separate people tried to get to Timbuktu

and only four of them succeeded. Laing was the first.

When he got here, it looked pretty much like this.

It was certainly not the fabled city of wealth that he'd expected.

He stayed for a while and they were hospitable.

As he went home, he fell out with the people who were taking him back. They asked him to convert to Islam.

He said no, so they cut his head off, aged 33.

That was the end of Laing, but his house is here and it's available.

I can see myself festering here, gazing mournfully back at the past,

but the desert beckons.

East of Timbuktu, the Sahara is virtually inaccessible

to all but the nomads who move their cattle across it.

Each year, they have a get-together at Ingal, in the Republic of Niger.

These are the Wodaabe - a tall, elegant people thought originally to have come from Ethiopia.

They walk and ride hundreds of miles a year,

seeking pasture for their cattle.

They move camp every six or seven days,

so all they own must be portable.

GIRL SPEAKS TO DONKEY

Rains have brought food and water and they must take advantage of the conditions to fatten their cattle.

The Wodaabe grow no food, so without the animals, they would not survive.

The fattening of the animals on the salt grass

is celebrated at an annual festival called Cure Salee -

the salt cure.

This great gathering of the nomadic clans is now only days away.

'One of their spokesmen - they don't have chiefs - is Doulla.'

-Tous les gens de meme famille?

-One pere, one mere...

Ah, oui.

'In a combination of French and a little English, he explains

'that everyone in this group comes from the same family line.'

Perri!

-Ah, Perri. Qui est Perri?

-Je te presente Perri.

-Ah, ca va?

'He introduces me to Perri, sporting heavy-duty Austrian sunglasses,

'which I never see him remove.

'Though Perri looks like the Godfather,

'Doulla assures me he's only the brother-in-law.'

-..comme il est cher.

-Ah, oui.

The obvious non-family member is a French student called Celine,

who's been living with the group.

She shares everything. The contents of her medicine bag are in demand.

What are relationships like among the Wodaabe between men and women?

Some of them have three or four wives. Are there problems there?

It's a free life here. The woman is...

I can't say free, but more or less free,

-like all around the world are free women.

-So, she can...

-She is with her husband.

-Yes.

-But if she want, she can leave him.

She can go to... She can go...

She can go to...with another man.

They're quite liberated sexually.

-More or less, yes.

-Yeah.

-It's important for them to look beautiful.

-Yes, very important.

When a man choose a woman or when a woman choose a man,

the first thing they look is the beauty of the person.

MEN SING

This must be one of the most extraordinary beauty contests

I've ever seen.

It's called the Gerewol,

and it is a sort of Wodaabe equivalent of the high school hop.

The young men go to enormous lengths to make themselves irresistible.

This means plenty of make up, exotic hairdressing,

the ability to repeat the same song and the same movement

for hours on end, and some very fancy eye work.

How long do they dance for?

-Something like seven days.

-Seven days?

-Yeah.

-Seven days?!

Now it's the girls' turn.

Once decked out in all their finery by doting mothers,

aunts and grannies, they will parade in front of the boys,

and make their choice of partner.

They look very beautiful, very young, and rather frightened.

MEN SING

Now comes the time for the girls to play their part in the ceremony.

Now is the...

-Do they come forward.

-Yes. People like a woman, want to choisi.

Though the girls have the right to choose,

it looks to be more of an ordeal than a privilege.

Their choice must be made in full view, for everyone to see.

Nerves are beginning to show.

And do the girls... Do they choose...

-They choose one boy?

-Yes, yes.

They go up and they put their hand on him?

Yes, maybe one woman, maybe two.

-Ah.

-If you're supposed to...

-Ah.

Yes.

Guided by the mistress of ceremonies,

each girl walks the line until contact is made,

and the choice announced in the traditional way.

WOMAN CALLS OUT

Now the worst is over. Her chosen one will meet up with her later.

He's hers for the night.

COW MOOS

Next morning, over breakfast,

I meet a boy and a girl who got together at last year's Gerewol.

Raine, tucking into millet porridge, was chosen by Goode,

and they now have to decide whether they want to get married or not.

This is not a marriage for the parents...

Non - non c'est past mariage pour les parents.

-..so they love each other and sort of like each other?

-Voila.

-Yeah.

It's a...mariage pour l'amour.

Oui. Yes.

'Doulla explains that although they've been lovers for a year,

'Goode wants to go to Cure Salee

'and see how Raine shapes up in the big Gerewol dance.'

-Le garcon...

-Yeah...

-..qui danse bien...

-Oh, yes, I see.

'If he dances well, sings well and looks good,

'she'll very likely decide to be his wife.'

..danse, comme il va faire, et apres vont faire la mariage.

Then they can claim the family bed,

the most important of all Wodaabe status symbols.

CATTLE MOO

But until Cure Salee is over, Goode's keeping everyone guessing.

Well, we're on our way.

The great Wodaabe family outing has begun to Cure Salee,

which is an enormous festival where all the nomads come together for this great once-yearly event.

I'm not sure quite what goes on - all sorts of festivities, dancing - and it's just a bit of a long walk.

Coming!

SPEECH INAUDIBLE

The town where Cure Salee is celebrated is 60 miles from the camp

and no, I admit it, I don't walk the whole way.

I ride to Ingal in a bush taxi with 15 Wodaabe crammed on board,

reducing their travelling time from two days to two hours.

Well, we've now reached... Foma.

Foma. It means "hello" in Wodaabe.

We've reached the big city. It isn't a big city at all.

This is Ingal and it's where Cure Salee takes place.

After where we were, it's a shock,

because there's walls, there's cars, there's police.

There are people looking to rent out property.

They've got this courtyard from some Hausa boys. Probably at a high rent.

It's not totally comfortable here. Country boys come to the big city.

There are lots of their families out there, but they haven't found them.

It's just very different and there's a slightly hostile, cautious feeling

-about it all.

-Salut.

-Hello. Foma. How are you?

They're so lovely. They walk at this gentle pace and out there is mayhem.

Cure Salee is everything - a party, trade fair, highland games, sports day and agricultural show.

For one week a year,

this little backwater is filled to bursting,

as thousands come to eat and drink, buy and sell, see and be seen,

race camels and generally celebrate

living in a land without boundaries.

SHRIEKS

Un ami? 'For Doulla and Perri, it's also a chance to go shopping.'

Alaykum as-salaam. Marhaba.

-Halak zain.

-Halak zain.

-Halak muhhi.

-I don't know all the rest.

I only know the start.

There's 17 different things we have to say.

-So, what are we going to buy?

-I want to buy the sugar.

-Sugar. Sucre.

-For 80 personnes, so...

-80 personnes.

So, that's 80 people you're getting provisions for.

Will you stay four days here?

I don't know. I want to dance and see people.

So, you're going to buy new clothes here?

I want to come see this man.

Perri's a bit of a dude, isn't he? Perri always looks rather dashing.

-Mine is...

-Is this new too?

-Oui.

-This is very old.

-That's old.

-Yeah.

-Not very well worn.

-Oh, yes, look at that.

Something like this.

You're so much... The clothes are so much more interesting than mine.

-It's nothing.

-These trousers, here they are in beige!

-It's good, too.

-I like these.

-Me too, I like them.

-You like them?

-People like this.

MICHAEL LAUGHS

Bonjour!

Qu'est-ce que c'est, ce chose ici?

Ca, c'est le... C'est du sel.

-Oh, that's salt?

-Yeah.

-Sel.

-Du sel.

-It looks like solid bars.

-C'est de Bilma.

-Ah - this is salt from Bilma, where the caravans go.

-Pour les caravanes.

The salt trade is the oldest in the Sahara,

but Cure Salee is not stuck in the past.

-It's a bit hot for ski-ing.

-Yes. In the evening you can do.

-Do you ski on sand?

-Yeah, on sand. Ski for the desert.

-Yeah?

-Ski on desert, yeah.

-Do you sink into the sand?

-I have picture for these skis.

-Have you got one?

-Yes.

-Let me show it first.

-OK.

-These are European skis, the same as snow skis?

-Yes.

Same as snow skis. Comment tu t'appelles?

-Mon nom, c'est Abdul Qadir Danger.

-Abdul Qadir Danger. Danger?

-Yeah.

-Abdul Qadir Danger. That's good.

-Duel Magazine too.

-Duel Magazine? It's a very good French magazine

-for travellers.

-Yes, I have picture.

Abdul Danger - I'm not sure that gives me confidence.

-That's right.

-I am Michael Cowardly.

-Michael Cowardly.

-Highly cowardly.

-Michael Cowardly.

-That's very nice.

Oh, well. I'll think about it.

Just amazing.

So I'll have two African masks, and a course of skiing lessons, please!

MEN SING

As evening approaches,

the crowds gather one of the day's highlights - a mass Gerewol.

Back at base, Raine and the other Wodaabe prepare to join the dance.

They'll be facing some strong competition.

Raine and the boys make final checks in the plastic hand mirrors

that every self-respecting Wodaabe lad carries with him.

With ostrich headdresses rounding off the outfit,

they're ready for the big time.

MEN SING AND CLAP RHYTHMICALLY

Raine's already looking around, maybe wondering where Goode is,

maybe on the lookout for some action himself.

For this, it seems, is what Cure Salee is all about -

the one time in a hard year when tribes who live on the move

can stop in the same place at the same time,

to exchange contacts, advice, and of course, widen the gene pool.

I've benefited from Cure Salee as well,

finding a group of Tuareg who will let us join them on a salt caravan leaving from a nearby village.

The journey will take us across an arid furnace of desert,

but on our way to the village, the almost unbelievable happens.

Well, there IS water in the Sahara.

When the rainy season hits, it's dramatic.

This morning, I could have walked up here. It has happened within a day.

Rains have fallen somewhere - I don't know where.

This will probably come up to my waist height,

and in a week it'll be dry again.

At the oasis of Tabelot, this water stays close enough to the surface to create a minor miracle.

This is like the Garden of Eden.

'And this is Omar, the man who'll soon be leading me and the camel train across the burning sands.'

-Orange.

-Orange, ah! Merci.

C'est bon - rafraichissant.

-Tu vois bien.

-Ah, c'est le...puits?

'All the water has to be brought up from below the surface.

'This well is some 50 feet deep.

'A camel works the winch and a bag moves water to irrigation channels.

'It's a method as old as the Bible - probably older.

'And it works.

'The fields of Tabelot are rich in onions, carrots, maize and millet,

'whilst trees provide orange, fig, pomegranate and, of course, dates,

'which, when ripe, are wrapped in bags to keep the birds off them.'

Quel est le plus grand?

-Le plus grand c'est 20 metres.

-20 metres? 60 feet. 60 feet up?

-Il monte?

-Oui.

-Crikey. So, he gets up 60 feet to get the dates.

-Oui.

HE YELLS

And drops his load.

I just... I only wanted three!

Mmm.

Wowee.

Merci. Merci beaucoup.

'Omar's home is in the centre of the village, a mile or so from the well.

'He's taking me to meet his family. They speak only Arabic or Tamahaq,

'the language of the Tuareg, but Omar has better French than me.'

Quatre femmes et... 'He tells me he has four wives and 15 children.'

-15 children?

-Oui.

-You are riche.

-No.

-C'est un probleme d'avoir... quatre femmes, pour gagner?

-Oui...

'Though he smiles easily enough, things are not as rosy as they look.

'It's hard finding money to buy food and medicine for all the children,

-'particularly the little ones, who can't work.'

-C'est un peu dur.

-Yeah.

-Comme il y a des petits enfants.

-Yeah.

-So, it's...

-C'est pas facile.

-C'est difficile.

'His wives seem to be of different ages

'and I ask if there are problems with all four under the same roof.'

-..quatre femmes dans le...meme maison.

-Beaucoup de problemes.

'Yes, he says, there are many problems. They all seem

'to boil down to the same thing - jealousy.'

-Jalousie.

-Jealousy?

-Oui.

Mais peut-etre, si vous...

Si tu as...

'Wouldn't it be easier, I ask in my impertinent Western way, to have one wife?'

-With one woman, it's easy. One wife, pas difficile.

-Pas difficile.

-So, maybe...

-Mais avec quatre femmes, c'est tres difficile.

-Yeah. Pourquoi...?

'Omar agrees that it would probably be much easier,

'but then, as he puts it, he wants lots of children, so he needs lots of wives.'

-You've got a lot of children.

-Oui.

'I think, in his own way, Omar likes the idea of starting a dynasty.'

LIVELY DRUMMING AND SINGING

The night before the camel train leaves for Bilma, there's a party.

The dancing gets wilder and wilder, as the men strut every step they know to impress the women,

and there's no sitting it out.

The local boys are tireless, happy to raise the sand all night long,

but for us oldies it's time for bed. There's a long, hard journey ahead.

Early morning in Tabelot and the great day of departure has arrived.

With these men and beasts

I'll share the Sahara's most desolate corners.

-Est-ce qu'il y a cette...? C'est le chameau?

-Oui.

-OK.

Merci.

Got more important things to put on first.

This is straw in here.

I asked him if it's for the camel to eat. He said no, for us.

You don't get much to eat. Sorry.

There are nine chameliers, or cameliers,

in our party, and 30 camels, most of which are of the white, docile type

beloved by the Tuareg of the Air mountains.

CAMEL BELLOWS

'My camel, I note, is neither white nor docile, but brown and stroppy.'

Whoa!

So excited to have my bag on board that he wanted to make off with it.

-Il a un nom?

-Oui. Ekowik.

-Kowik?

-Ekowik.

Kowik.

Kowik, I think, means "he who takes foreigners".

-Ekowik.

-Ekowik.

'We're ready to go. Everything we need must be carried by the camels,

'except fresh food, which walks.'

Well, here we go. Not quite sure about me yet.

-CAMEL GRUNTS

-Come on.

Well, this is it. It's not quite what I expected when I'd...

Camel rides on the beach or once round the pyramid. This is for real.

I've failed already. I got him a few yards.

So we leave Tabelot,

a modest caravan compared to the one which left here in 1922,

observed by one Captain Buchanan, who estimated it at six miles long.

Come on, Ekowik.

It's 350 miles across the desert to Bilma

and I shall be leaving before that

and branching north, towards the Algerian border.

'As we pass out of the mountains, Omar takes me aside

'to show me some of the extraordinary rock art

'that covers this part of the Sahara.'

-C'est quel age?

-Vers six mille.

-Ah, six mille. 6,000 years.

-Oui.

6,000 years old! 'Some say they're men from outer space.

'Others say they're ancestors of the Wodaabe, but the animals they depict

'are taken as proof that, not long ago,

'the Sahara was a green and fertile place.'

Since the last ice age ended, the Sahara and its wildlife have borne the brunt of global warming.

Now the camel, introduced from Arabia, has this wilderness almost to itself.

It looks rather pleasant and gentle this pace, ambling through the sand,

but it's very deceptive cos this is really stark desert.

This is killer landscape, because there is no water and no shelter,

so you go slowly to survive

and if you didn't have water or friends around, that would be it within 24 hours.

The camel - or dromedary, as these single-humped animals are known -

is a marvellous desert machine.

Their weight is so finely balanced, they leave barely a mark.

Provided they can graze, they can last two weeks without water

and they can carry loads of up to 500 pounds over enormous distances.

Camels changed the history of the Sahara.

Without them, 2,000 years of trade, war, expansion and exploration would never have happened.

It's getting now to midday,

the peak of heat. We're seeking a tree.

You just have to keep drinking lots of water.

The other thing which is nice about it is the camels dictate the pace

but also the mood.

It's the sort of continuous, unchanging rhythm,

which is the way, I think, you survive this.

Stopping and starting is more difficult.

You've got to have shelter and all that, but camels just move on and become very reassuring presences.

You don't want to be patted.

But...

I mean, there are good things about it.

There are no flies. You don't get bitten by anything. There's no...

undergrowth to catch your clothing on or get jabbed by,

but...there's very little scope for action.

More scope for imagination, so you think a lot...like why did I suggest doing this in the first place?

Just a joke.

Oh, a tree! Un arbre.

-Omar...

-Oui.

-..un arbre.

-Un arbre pour nous? Chez nous?

-Oui.

Hurrah!

This is where we're going to stop next.

It's two-star,

so, basically, no swimming pool.

No room service.

No roof, no stairs...

no rooms, actually, but it sounds jolly good.

How much is in the water?

Merci.

Merci, Omar.

HE LAUGHS

Lovely the way they go down, sort of fold up, like...

collapsible tables.

This is what they eat off the acacia tree,

but to get at the greenery

there are these amazingly long, sharp thorns.

A couple of inches long. Incredibly sharp.

They just sort of chomp that off. I wonder what goes on in their mouths

between the tongue and the gullet.

I wouldn't eat this... even in a sandwich.

Well, possibly in a sandwich.

I'd eat anything at the moment.

MICHAEL HUMS

OK.

C'est bon.

The midday temperatures peak at around 56 Celsius

and only in late afternoon, when the day cools off, is it safe to leave.

The heat dictates everything.

Because of it, Omar and his men sometimes leave at 4am,

but they still aim to walk 14 or 15 hours a day.

Woohoooo!

I don't know about the camels,

but I find walking on this soft sand the most tiring.

Izambar Mohammed, the camel singer, watches out for flagging spirits.

SHARP CRY

-SINGING

-The tree you see over there...

Your expectations become so low that one tree becomes a luxury object.

You can understand what an oasis means to these people.

Everything's just pared down.

Very minimal expectations.

SINGING CONTINUES

The main social event of the day is the evening meal - usually bread, dates and cheese, but tonight,

in my honour, there'll be a stew.

Everyone has a job to do.

Omar and Izambar kill the sheep,

Osman bakes bread in a sand oven

and Moussa plaits twine to secure the camel loads.

I'm still recovering.

There's nowhere to sit. That's what I really miss most.

I'm sitting here, but this is their bedding and the animals' food,

so I can't really sit here for long.

They don't believe in chairs.

After a long walk, it'd be nice to just flop down on a chaise longue.

That's what I'd bring if I had a camel train.

Camels stacked with chairs!

Reading lamps and a television.

Possibly a small bar and a fridge.

Front door bell, stairs and maybe a couple of friends.

THEY SPEAK IN DIALECT

It's something thick and coarse and heavy and rather unappetising.

-Taguella.

-Togella.

-Taguella.

-Togella.

-Taguella.

Taguella. Ca, c'est le taguella.

-Tagilla.

-Taguella.

-Taguella.

Nice.

It's more like cake, really.

Like a big chunk of cake we used to have at school.

Mmm.

Nice hard, crispy outside. Very good.

-Taguella.

-Taguella!

You have to get the emphasis right.

Ta-GUE-lla probably means buttock.

Taguell-A means this lovely cake.

You're a great audience. Thank you.

I think I'm wrong here, another breach of etiquette,

because they seem to be breaking up the...taguella?

..into the bowl here, so I suppose they're going to put sauce on it,

but you're popping a bit in your mouth too, so I'll do that.

-Un peu tageulla.

-Un peu taduella.

Un peu taduella.

-Taguella. Taguella.

-Taguella.

They're probably teaching me all the wrong words.

Probably saying...

THEY SPEAK AMONGST THEMSELVES

Taguella. Taguella.

Taguella.

It's a minimalist joke, but it's going very well.

Ah, this looks like the...

..the meat.

It's an odd feeling to be eating one of the three creatures I've got to know quite well as we walk along.

The camels are up there and the sheep and the goat are rather sweet

and they get kicked about and no-one seems to care about them. I rather identified with them...

and one has now been dispatched, and the others...

It's swinging on the bush and the other two are looking around...

"I wonder what happened to Bert."

They don't seem too concerned.

He laid down his life for a good cause.

This is a banquet for Tuaregs, because they rarely have meat on a long journey. They have couscous.

There'll be a lot of sand in it, especially with the wind blowing.

-Tagine. Izzot.

-Oh.

-For me?

-Oui.

-Thank you.

THEY LAUGH

-Izzot.

-Izzot.

Is very hot, but it's good.

This is lovely.

Mmm.

-Izzot.

-Izzot.

-Izzot.

Very good.

CAMEL BELLOWS

It's much more sensible than any hat you could buy,

because...it's really cool.

You have to tie it quite securely, because all the walking loosens it,

but it's cool and it keeps dust off,

-so you can put it right over, can't you?

-Up way.

-Sorry. My dresser.

And general looker-after.

I'd like to be able to see out of it and not walk into a camel.

Brilliant. And this can go up...

Voila.

-Et tu fais ca.

-Thank you.

Merci.

-HE LAUGHS

-There - ready for the route.

Dust...and it's very, very cool.

It's excellent, isn't it? Merci.

CAMEL MOANS

One thing I've got rather used to about the camels

is the strange rumblings that go around the camp whenever they're being loaded up or put down.

You can hear one now, and it's almost like a language

and I'm not quite sure what it is - is it anger, is it protest

or just, "Here we go again"?

But they make their presence felt.

"We're not meant to do this. We're not meant to be beasts of burden."

I shall develop a noise of my own to go with it.

Nyyyiip! Nyyoooiii!

-LAUGHTER

-Good. It works.

We're now into what my French guidebook calls "desert absolut" - absolute desert.

The earth stripped clean, as bare as a glacier, featureless as the sea.

The outside world is SO far away as to be almost irrelevant.

I can understand why so many religions were born in the desert.

The outside is SO hostile, you have to look inside.

Just as I begin to achieve spiritual harmony with this great emptiness,

I'm reminded that in this century the outside world is always closer than you think. We're not alone.

MOTOR HUMS

A French paraglider swoops down over us,

a video camera at the ready.

I feel he's intruding on our space, but deep down I'm probably jealous.

You've been to many deserts in the world. Do you have a favourite, one place that you find most rewarding?

I've been, yes, to different place. I like this one,

because the Sahara, there is an authentic life here, still alive.

Well, it's a great machine.

Can you do some work with us? Get up in the air and we'll have our boys here.

Is it OK to have another camera?

Oh, sorry.

A few sweeties and he'd be all right.

This might be just a streak of Yorkshire puritanism,

but I don't want the Sahara to become an adventure playground

and after the excitement I'm glad to be back with people who live here.

Phew! It seems a bit bizarre having a fire in the Sahara

after it's been 132 degrees Fahrenheit this afternoon,

56 centigrade,

but it gets quite cold at night.

It goes down to about, well... It can get as low as the high 80s.

You know, sort of 40 degrees, 38 degrees at night

and oddly enough it seems cold.

Anyway, it's just nice to have a fire. Very friendly, companionable.

-I can make my joke about...izzot!

-Izzot.

-You see, it goes down a bomb.

-Izzot.

-Izzot...

Oh, pour moi? Merci, merci.

-Si tu veux...

-This is a bit of the cheese, yeah.

Mmm.

-Takuma.

-Guma.

-Takuma.

-You're going to teach me another word, aren't you?

-Takuma.

-Takuma.

-Al fatur.

-Hm?

-Al fatur.

-Al fatur.

-THEY LAUGH Shay.

-Shay.

You're teaching me rude words...

THEY LAUGH

Ah, these little Tuareg soirees!

The cheese is nice. Very nice.

Cheers.

En anglais, nous disons "Cheers!"

Cheers! Down the hatch.

Bottoms up.

-THEY SPEAK IN DIALECT

-Bottoms up.

-Bottom...

-Bottom.

-Bottom.

-Bottoms.

-Bottoms.

-Up.

-Up.

-Yeah, great!

-Bottoms up.

-Bottoms up.

-Bottoms up.

-Bottoms up.

-THEY LAUGH

-Izzot!

Ah, very good.

-Bottoms up.

-Bottoms up.

-Shay.

-Shay.

-Izzot.

-Izzot.

-Al fatur.

-Al fatur.

-THEY LAUGH Takuma.

-Takuma.

Takuma.

-Takuma.

-Oh, not again. Takuma.

-Al fatur.

-Al fatur.

-Shay.

-Shay.

-Izzot.

-Izzot!

-Bottoms up.

-Bottoms up.

God bless Her Majesty.

THEY CHUCKLE

-Bottoms up.

-Bottoms up.

Omar helps me load up for the last time.

Today our ways will part and already they've someone new to look after.

This gazelle was found abandoned by its mother at the campsite

and they're going to keep it as a pet.

This is not one for the pot.

There are gazelles in the Sahara desert. It's amazing.

I know there are camels and lots of smaller animals,

but there are gazelles roaming in the depths of the desert

and this one, I think, will hopefully survive.

It's got amazing ears.

Yes...

We'll look after you, won't we?

It's always the way, isn't it?

Just as I'm learning how to cope, it's time to move on.

I shall miss all this - the regular rhythm,

the reassuring pattern of life on the move.

I shall miss Omar and Izambar and all the team who've looked after me.

Even Ekowik and the camels, though they won't miss me.

I've learnt a lot - maybe not enough to start a religion,

but a clearer view of basic truths.

If you don't respect your environment, you die. It's simple.

'Omar will doubtless be delighted to see the back of us.

'He can get back to the business of bringing the salt back from Bilma.'

Au revoir.

Merci. Merci, Omar, pour tout.

Bon voyage.

Bye. Merci, merci.

-Merci.

-Merci.

-Merci pour tout. Merci pour tout.

Heeey! You like that shirt, don't you?

Oh! OK.

Bon voyage. Au revoir. Merci.

Ah! Bottoms up.

HE PRETENDS TO CRY

He's going to win the Oscar for this, isn't he?

Stop it! It's my show!

OK...

Il vient avec moi.

Oui, il vient avec moi.

Merci, Omar. Merci. Tres, tres bon. Bon voyage.

OK! Now, then, which way?

Takuma.

Photograph.

-Bottom up.

-Bottom up.

-Bottom up.

-Bottom up.

-Takuma.

-Izzot!

-Izzot!

THEY SHOUT OUT WORDS

Au revoir.

Right, let me see - Algeria.

Over the mountain, past the oasis, down the gorge, left at the volcano.

Should be there by Tuesday week.