In Arlit, a relatively large town west of the Aïr Mountains, we were able to take care of all the formalities for our 8-day trip through the Aïr Mountains and the adjacent region, the Ténéré. First, we needed a travel permit before we were even allowed to stay in the area. Next, a photography permit, because without it we weren’t allowed to take any photos. And last but not least, a guide. And we found that guide in the form of Idris. Here on the right in the front of the car.
Idris was an excellent guide. Not only did he know the area very well, but he could also spot exactly which parts of the sand were drivable and which weren’t. Especially with the sun at your back, it’s almost impossible to tell how steep the slope is once you’re driving at the top of a sand dune. The risk of a car rolling over if a sand dune is misjudged is very real. Just look at the photo below and try to estimate the depth in the area to the left of the car’s front end.
Idris was a Tuareg. The original inhabitants of the desert. They were warriors, but also slave traders. They crisscrossed the desert with their caravans. Idris belonged to the class of nobles, the highest class. He told me that you should always stop along the way if you thought someone needed water. When I did that once, he gestured to keep driving and said, “C’est rien, c’est un captive.” In other words, “It’s nothing; he’s a slave” (literally, a prisoner). In class-conscious Tuareg society, a nobleman does not stop for a slave, the second-lowest class. Not even if he might need water.