Slept 3 Nights in the Sahara Desert, Solo Female.

A December 2024 trek – three nights, two guides with amazing meals under millions of stars.

Some trips end quietly. This solo female Sahara desert trek was an experience to remember for years to come. I have gained a great appreciation for peoples of different cultures and faiths which I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

We arrived at the edge of a very quiet town, the kind of place where the silence itself feels like a greeting. Stopping on our way to admire the wildflowers growing improbably out of the dust. The meeting point was down a narrow lane, a young boy was shaping toub – traditional sun-dried mud bricks, by hand, unbothered by the strangers driving past.

I stepped out of the car and met Brahim and Azziz, the two men who would become my entire world for the next three nights. This trek was arranged through Tiziri Camp, who paired me with them for the journey ahead. They were loading two dromedaries with supplies, cinching ropes, checking loads. Brahim and Azziz spoke quietly to each other in a rhythm that told me this was nothing new to them.

Hmad, my guide and driver for the past four days, offered me his djellaba, I accepted it gratefully, nerves already creeping in. A djellaba is a long, hooded robe worn against the desert sun and cold. Walking into the Sahara with two strangers, sleeping rough for the first time in my life, no phone signal, no plan B, it was a lot to sit with. His gesture, small as it was, steadied me. I said my goodbyes and watched his car disappear down the road. I wouldn’t see him again for three days.

Let the adventure begin, I once again thought.

Day One of My Solo Female Sahara Desert Trek

Azziz walked ahead with the dromedaries. Brahim and I fell into a slower rhythm behind them, and I asked question after question; about the land, the animals, his life and he answered every single one, patient and thorough, like the educator he clearly was underneath the guide.

We made camp as the light started to change. Dinner that night undid every assumption I had about “roughing it.” I never imagined rough camping could feel elegant. I ducked into the kitchen tent, genuinely massive, glowing from the inside. Happily I learned how to prepare a vegan tajine dish, to the tunes of Moroccan music in the background.

After dinner I took a kettle of warm water, went behind a dune to wash the day’s dust off my skin. I changed into thermals, and zipped myself into my tent for the night. I barely slept. The dark was total, the kind you only get away from every form of artificial light. I knew I wasn’t alone as the sound of the dromedaries chewing their cud in the dark took some getting used to.

Day Two: Gazelle Tracks and a Nap I Didn’t Expect

Breakfast the next morning confirmed something I already suspected about myself: I love food, and being vegan in the middle of the Sahara had only sharpened that love, not dulled it.

We broke camp and walked toward the first big dune. Brahim pointed out wildflowers, hummingbirds, and tracks in the sand, tiny, precise prints from what I’m almost certain were Dorcas gazelles. They’re the smallest gazelle species on earth and, fittingly, native to this exact stretch of desert.

The sun climbed, the heat rose, and the desert turned into something no photograph will ever fully capture. You have to stand in it. I walked in long stretches of solitude, and some stretches beside Brahim and Azziz.

Lunch, a Nap and Wildflowers

For lunch, we found a shaded dune, tucked away from a small caravan of other travelers passing on a different path. Tea came first, with nuts, raisins, and dates. This was followed by pasta al dente – perfecto!! A small ritual that followed me back across the ocean.

After lunch, a rug was already laid out on a small dune for me to take a nap. I fell asleep in no time, as only sand and silence existed and this was exactly what by body needed. I woke to two dromedaries grazing nearby and a line of ants going about their business, completely indifferent to me.

The Sahara, I learned, has no cacti. to my pleasant surprise, it had delicate lavender-colored flowers, one of which I pressed and brought home in a book.

A sea of dunes was our second nights’ camp. I washed up again with warm kettle water, changed and wrapped myself in a blanket on top of a dune. I could get used to these types of outdoor naps. I woke and took an embarrassing number of photos.

Dinner that night was vegan tajine for me, goat for them. We sat by the fire, Brahim making tea and pointing out constellations. He traced the Milky Way across a sky with zero light pollution to compete with it. We talked for a long time. That night, I asked to sleep in the kitchen tent with Azziz. I didn’t love the solo tent and slept far better, helped along by a hot water bottle someone had quietly tucked into my sleeping bag.

Day Three: Bread Baked in Sand

Breakfast again, familiar now, fruit, tea, the same quiet rhythm. We packed up and trekked toward the largest dune yet.

That final night, after the usual fire was lit to cook dinner, Brahim and Azziz used the leftover hot sand to bake bread directly in the ground. It came out as one of the most delicious, genuinely artisan loaves I have ever eaten in my life. We ate it slowly, talked, watched the stars one more time, and went to bed.

Saying Goodbye

The next morning, a driver arrived to take us back to the village. In such a short window of time, I had grown genuinely close to Brahim and Azziz. The care they extended to a solo traveler who’d never camped a day in her life. The patience, the protection, the quiet generosity is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

I said my goodbyes, got a hot shower at a small hostel, and reunited with Hmad, who greeted me like an old friend eager to hear every detail. I had a lot to tell him. This was the final, unforgettable stretch of the rest of my Morocco trip.

That’s what a solo female Sahara desert trek teaches you; patience, trust, and how loud silence can be.