Home, Mohammed

They say a little bit of knowledge can be dangerous. Perhaps they are right. We wouldn't know.

By Bob Payne

Most inveterate travelers think following the pack does not apply to them. They think their experience, say, hopping tiny islands in the South Pacific somehow qualifies them to...well, purely hypothetically, let's pick something really different, like, oh, I don't know, set off on a camel alone in the Arabian desert. All because someone happened to mention that a camel, if left to its own devices, can find its own way home.

So you find yourself in Dubai, one of the United Arab Emirates, and you decide to ride a camel across the dunes. It's easy enough to arrange, but you don't want to simply hop on a camel tied nose-and-tail to the ones in front and back and be led around on a string, which seems to be the standard way of doing things. No, you want to command your ship-of-the-desert untethered. It's a desire, you're sure, that the sheikhs of Dubai--who once measured their wealth in camels but now own five-star hotels, airlines, and megamalls--would appreciate. Although these days they more commonly travel by Range Rover and private jet, they still have the occasional need to reaffirm their Bedouin heritage by mounting a camel and disappearing among the sands.

There seems to be little risk of getting lost, even though the desert stretches out before you all the way into the Empty Quarter of Saudi Arabia and beyond. So you persuade the guides to untie your ride from the other camels, and you rise majestically above the desert aboard a beast decked out with a colorful woven blanket, tinkling bells, and all sorts of other frilly accoutrement that would make you constantly complain and spit, too, if you were forced to wear them.

"What is my camel's name?" you ask.

The guide studies the question for a moment. Then he answers, "Mohammed."

"And the one you're riding?"

He studies that question, too. "Mohammed."

Your Mohammed, you are made to understand, is an intelligent beast that can respond to commands in any language, as long as they are said in the right tone of voice and, more importantly, accompanied with an appropriate whack of the wooden riding crop supplied for that purpose.

The guide demonstrates. Whack. You shout "Whoa, horsie!" Mohammed bolts.

You're already topping the first dune when you shout over your shoulder to the guide, who is mounting his camel in some haste. "You are sure he can find his way home?" you ask.

"Oh yes," he shouts as you disappear from sight, imparting a sense of calm that allows you to momentarily settle into the saddle. Until, that is, you hear his faint voice again, carried on the shifting sands.

"But sir, " the voice says, imploringly. "His home is Iraq."

Not that you'd get yourself into this sort of fix. Inveterate traveler that you are, you have far too much experience for that. Even hypothetically.

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Bob Payne has ridden camels in Jordan, Egypt, and yes, Dubai.
Next: Bob gets stranded on a desert isle.

Illustration by Jason Schneider