The trick to riding a camel into the Sahara Desert is all in the holding on …

When it gets up …

As it trudges along …

And, perhaps most importantly, as it suddenly drops down.

Our camel journey was to take between one hour to 90 minutes from the Yasmina Auberge, a sort of bed and breakfast, at Erg Chebbi on the edge of the Sahara in Morocco's south to a desert camp run by the accommodation venue.

Our hosts plied us with mint tea in shot glasses or, as they called it Berber whiskey, as we steeled ourselves for our bumpy trek.

The camels were tethered and seated in two rows of six at the back of the auberge.

Dressed in a cobalt blue gown (gandoura) and head scarf (chach) one of our guides, Ibrahim, beckoned us one by one to mount the camels.

(Berbers would also rub indigo on their faces to protect them from the sun. They were commonly known as blue men.)

He tied our backpacks to a metal T-shaped bar on the camel's wooden-and-blanket saddle as we grasped the cross-section of the bar.

Our rides grumble and lurch to life as we hang on for dear life.

The ride was timed so we could enjoy the sun sinking behind the Sahara's rippled dunes.

After the initial shock of being up so high with such little support, the ride becomes relatively pleasant.

The monotone rhythm of the camel's gait is soothing and our lengthening shadows show us as weary Berber trekkers, rather than holidaymakers careful to apply more factor 30 sunscreen.

"Hold on, hold on," Ibrahim calls as the camels trudge down a steep slope.

We tilt forward at a ridiculous angle, clinging to the crossbars.

Bill, who amazingly has been riding the lead camel with only one hand on the crossbar and the other holding his hat on his head, quips that if it does blow away, at least it won't fall in a puddle.

The colours of the dunes are pink, brown, yellow and black.

Scarab beetles scurry out from under the camels' plate-like hooves.

The sinking sun is pure white and the sky matches the colour of Ibrahim's gandoura.

We arrive at our camp at dusk.

Our tents are made from mats and heavy, black, woven cloth draped over bamboo frames. We look onto a central fire place surrounded by more mats, and there is a separate kitchen tent and a toilet.

We are given sheets and big blankets for our beds.

Solar panels provide light and power.

There are more than 200 such camps in an area of 12 kilometres by six kilometres but while we passed other camps and other tourists on camels, we feel we are alone in the desert.

Adi, another host, is also dressed in Berber blue.

He has a brown toothy grin as he asks each of us from which country we come.

He says he thinks he is about 30 years of age, but is not sure, and speaks Italian, English, Spanish and German, all of which he learned from tourists.

After we eat beef tagine for dinner and fruit for dessert, Adi and Ibrahim bring out pottery and goatskin drums and metal cuplike instruments, called qaraqibs, that they clack together.

The campfire dances to their hypnotic beats and droning harmonies as they sing Berber songs of Africa and its desert.

The sky is a white fire of blazing Sahara stars.

IF YOU GO

GETTING THERE: Qantas and its code share partner Emirates run regular flights to Casablanca, with stop-offs at Dubai.

STAYING THERE: The Peregrine Adventures Morocco Explorer tour runs for 13 days. It costs $1590 per person twin share. Group sizes range from six to 16, not including a local tour leader/guide and a driver.

PLAYING THERE: Australians are not required to obtain a visa to enter Morocco, and any airport departure taxes are included in the price of an air ticket.

Credit cards are readily accepted and ATMs are common. The currency is the dirham which, at the time of writing, one Moroccan dirham bought 13 Australian cents.

Photo etiquette is hugely important in Morocco. Always ask before you take someone's photo, abide by their wish if they refuse your request and do not photograph anyone or anything of military or security significance.

*The writer travelled at his own expense