The once in a lifetime experience came about after I had picked up a brochure called Lanzarote Excursions, blazoned with 'best choice' and 'a holiday you'll remember' catch phrases. Following their recommendations, I visited the Timanfaya National Park with my sister. The Park, or rather a massive lava field, is as I imagine planet Mars to be. It was amazing to see the insides of earth all scrambled up and roasted, with lichen barely growing on the surface. At the visitors' centre, brave Spanish men pour water into the fiery earth, causing jets of water to erupt and shower the onlooking crowd. We ended up taking a coach tour of the crater route, seeing lava and volcanic pipes of different colours and textures. With dramatic classical music playing in the background I half expected to see Golum appear!
It was at the base of these 'fiery mountains' that I paid my 6 euros to ride on one of 18 camels.
They looked calm and serene, sitting peacefully in the sand, all in a row. Each one had a wooden frame across it's back, capable of carrying two people, and a couple of sandbags to even out the weight. I wasn't sure if it was really fair to put these creatures through such laborious work; us tourists aren't the lightest of people. I reasoned that camels have always been used as work animals to carry loads across endless desserts, and the track we would be taking couldn't have been more than a couple of miles long.
Sitting down as gently as I could onto the frame, I was looped in with some rope, and already starting to feel nervous. As the other camels were being loaded up, ours took an almighty lurch forwards and got up, grunting with impatience.
'Oh crickey, we're off!' I thought, and imagined the camel cantering off into the distance, bucking us off as it went. As the camel was about to make his escape, the keeper grabbed his lead and shouted some stern words; these men clearly know their animals well and are able to command respect from them, as our beast hissed in annoyance but did as he was told. Twice more our camel got to his feet before we were eventually able to set off in a line, only for us to then become untied from the rest of the herd!
Waving his long neck from side to side, and wiggling about, I held on tight waiting for the breakaway... but it didn't happen. Instead, we just got tied even tighter to the camel in front, so I had to lift my legs up so as not to kick our leading camel on the tail. We slowly made our way up a fairly steep climb, swaying slightly. It was actually quite a relaxing motion, but I was just to scared to enjoy it. My sister on the other hand was laughing all the way, while the 5 year old kids upfront seemed perfectly at ease. At the top of the climb we stopped to have our pictures taken, which got me in a right panic as our camel looked like he wanted to break lose again. I'm sure animals can tell if your panicked, and I think these vibes rubbed off on him!
Coming downhill, the fierce winds seemed to whip around the wooden seats and propel the poor things forwards, stumbling slightly under our weight on their rickety knees. Feeling the breath of the other camel on the back of my neck had me on tenter hooks and I just prayed we'd get back to the car park.
When we finally got to the finish, each camel bent down one by one, a lunging motion which throws you forwards as they settle in the dust. Taking a wide berth, I admired them all from the safety of the car; they are not outwardly dangerous animals (indeed the trip really had been hitch free), but I felt nothing but upmost respect for these powerful, mythical creatures. Not knowing anything about camels or how to handle animals beyond hamsters and my cat, I was in awe of the men who appeared to have a sound knowledge of each beast, and perhaps even had an inkling of what they were thinking.
So, that was the first and last time I will ride a camel; an experience I will never forget.
