Mar 2016, baby’s first sandstorm (Bikaner, India)

So there we were, stranded in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by camels and vast orange sand. Our charming accommodation consisted of a big white tent in the Rajasthan desert. There was only one other person on site – an Indian teenager, one of the few paid employees.

Our Workaway host had left us here with a select few tasks: cleaning-up after the previous guests, taking care of the camels and milking the goats. He had returned solo to the hostel he ran in Bikaner, and this was now to be our home for the next few days. We were without mobile phones – all we had was our can-do attitudes, my trusty camera and an almost dead laptop.

After tackling the mountain of dishes left behind by previous guests (using sand as a substitute for soap – desert perks!), we were ambushed by a sharp, prickly sensation. The teenage worker yelled out a very clear warning. Although we could not understand his words, the urgency in his voice was undeniable.

Within mere seconds, the entire landscape changed. It was a full-blown sandstorm!

Aimee and I clung to each other for dear life, as the air became hostile, thick and orange. We heard the whooshing of wind and felt millions of sharp slices from tiny particles of sand. We stumbled blindly towards the nearest shelter as we held our hands over our faces. It felt like we were being constantly scratched, while simultaneously losing our sense of direction, sight and self.

It was so loud and so unbelievable; we screamed silently as the wind pierced our bodies and tossed large items around the camp haphazardly. It was a surreal and all-consuming experience – the kind that leaves you questioning your life choices. We found ourselves sprawled on the ground, completely helpless and at a loss for what to do and how to proceed.

As the chaos finally subsided, we emerged covered in a generous layer of dust. We were speechless as we cleaned ourselves off, dishevelled and confused. It was the next thought that brought us back to earth – did we close the entry to our tent?

Let’s just say, it was quite the sight.

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