‘On our first night, we climbed onto the roof of a building and watched the sunset as Karen regaled us with tales of the area as we peered around us at the dry river bed, the dusty grove of palms and the Berber symbol for ‘free man’ which was carved in the hillside opposite.

It was in the desert where I ate a brilliantly coloured salad of vivid grated beetroot and carrot topped with roasted peanuts. It was in the desert where I ate the sweetest, most delicious watermelon I have ever tasted. And it was in the desert where I would be called to breakfast by the sound of a drum.

It was after three of us went on a camel adventure, trekking to a campsite tucked into a hollow between sand dunes. Cathy, Tia and I were led on our camels in single file across the stony ground by the gentle cameleer (another Hassan) who told us he preferred camels to people. We made a picturesque sight. I know, because we feature in many photos. Our friends cheered and waved us off from the riad and later documented our arrival at the campsite where they arrived before us by four wheel drive.

Before we left the cafe, Karen and Yousef had shown us a trick, a discovery so astonishing that we would repeat it whenever we felt too hot. Taking our cotton scarves, they dunked them into precious water. Then, spinning the lengths of fabric above their heads, they whipped them around and around, until the temperature of the lukewarm water dropped to that of ice. This fabric was then wrapped tightly around our heads. Desert magic!

It was on this camel ride that my eyes really opened to the desert, Hassan pointed out subtle landmarks like the ‘black desert’ of densely packed stones, the salt pans and the ‘montaigne of dragons’. We began to notice the different textures in the sand, the small plants and the creases and shadows that looked like ripples in water.

This month’s Artwork in Focus features words and images. I thought I would share an extract from a piece of writing I did called Sketches of Morocco. It recently reached the shortlists in both the Travel Story Prize and WAIG Women Writer’s Prize for the 2026 Lane Cove Literary Awards. It recalled another wonderful journey I made in 2023 - to Morocco. In this extract I reflect on a camel trip we made while staying at Cafe Tissardmine, an artist retreat that Karen Hadfield has set up in the Sahara desert. The images come from the artwork mentioned in it. Enjoy!

For despite the heat and dryness, there were many references to water in the desert. The fossils recalled the time the area was an ancient lake, the dogged date palms grew in the dry river bed that still floods on occasion, and the black stones shone with a watery-blue tone at twilight. Even the door frames at Café Tissardmine and the tiles on the kitchen floor were coloured blue against the dusky ochre of the sand.

After our journey by camel, we ate a feast prepared for us by Ali (Hassan’s brother). Later he and Hassan played the drums and sang as we circled the fire and sipped our drinks. We watched another sunset, another sky fill with stars, before it was time for the others to return to the riad. The three wise women and Hassan stayed on. He regaled us with riddles which he said were ‘so easy’ to solve. Not for us it appeared. A shelter was on offer but we chose to sleep around the fire, falling asleep to the sound of distant drums that travelled over the sand from another camp far away.

We awoke with the sun and climbed out of the bowl of the camp in our bare feet. We had brought little sketchbooks and pencils and sat cross-legged on the crest of a sand dune, noting down the details around us. I drew the curving patterns in the sand, the tracks of unknown insects that had scuttled past in the night, acacias shaped by the mouths of camels and the salt patterns on the flat. There was so much to get down and so little time, for the sun was getting higher and Ali had arrived to cook our breakfast. We were soon called back to the campsite by the call of his drum. We returned to the Café mostly in silence, lost in reverie, our eyes awoken to the landscape. The wind had picked up and we spent most of that day painting inside, out of the wind and the sand. I translated my sketches into a long concertina-folded artwork where I set down my memories of that camel trip in watercolour and gouache.

I still look at it today.’