Meeting Auda – Past and Present

Waking up in the grounds of Bayr Fort was so much easier than waking up in virgin desert.

The lights of the Fort were ample, and this made life so much easier when transitioning and packing all the kit from my tent into my kit bag. On other mornings in complete darkness, aided by a head-torch, my ability to put something down in my tent or bag and then not be able to find it never ceased to amaze or annoy me. Thankfully, there was none of that this morning.

Additionally, the availability of a sink with running cold water and a flushing loo was by now considered a luxury. It had been an opportunity to get a little cleaner than a wet-wipe "bath", and I'd even managed a shave, a lifetime habit that I think was ingrained in me during the commando course on the premise of cleanliness: "shave whenever you can and have enough water". On top of that, I was ever minded of one of Churchill's sayings: "An unshaven man is ill prepared for the day ahead". So, at least on that count, I'd be ready for whatever the day threw at me.

As ever, Simon had prepared a warm breakfast for the riders, and on this morning, we had ample time to enjoy our oatmeal and chat about the previous evening.

As the first rays of light broke over the horizon, the sky turned a stunning shade of red, which we knew would be fleeting. Adam S quickly gathered us outside of the Fort by the camels and took some pictures that would turn out to be stunning. 

We prepared our camels and by 0800 were ready to move. The support team had also been aided by the Fort's facilities, so they were well ahead of the game this morning.

As we set off past the Fort, I could not help but think of Lawrence and Auda leaving this place in 1917; they were getting perilously close to a battle from which they knew not all would return. Auda was also leaving his son buried here.

We rode west, down one of the four paths from the Fort that reminded me of a medieval kind of arrangement from days of old. The steep path led us down towards the vegetation at the base of the wadi, and a small path cut through the thick plants that thrived on the stagnant water that lay beneath the sand and rock.

We worked our way through the chicane and emerged on the other side, facing the freshwater lake, which features modern sculpting to form an earthwork dam that we could ride along. However, the water levels were very low, so the dam on this day was devoid of the water it was built to retain.

As we climbed away from the lake, the desert quickly changed to the black volcanic shingle of previous days. The team was relaxed, and the weather was crisp, but with no wind, our Fawa coats were doing their job. Which was just as well for James!

Just short of a ridge, and for no particular reason, his camel decided to stop, sit, then roll. Thankfully, it was all very gentle and sedate, but this didn't stop James from being toppled off and nearly ending up as padding between 650 kilograms of male camel and the sharp stones of the desert floor.

No sooner was the camel down than we got him up again to rearrange his shedad and ensure James was OK. He said he was, but it was noticeable he was nursing his left arm. I asked him a couple of times if he was OK, and he said he was. I thought to myself, "Well, he is an orthopaedic surgeon, so he should know". However, we'd find out after the Trek that he'd actually cracked a bone in his elbow, but he'd kept quiet about it so as not to risk getting pulled off the Trek by Ged the medic.

As we moved off again, we decided to trot the camels to try to shake the lethargy out of them. Additionally, experience had taught me that if a camel starts to act up, a way to calm him down is to change whatever he's doing, which seems to have the effect of causing him to forget what upset him in the first place. This worked with James's camel and, once tucked in behind the other camels, he had found his happy spot.

As the day warmed, Rebecca and Henry came by and relieved us of our Fawa coats, and we worked our way across the relentless, rolling landscape of razor-sharp stones that was the Nefud, which would challenge vehicle tyres, but not our super-camels' hardened pads. The result was that the riders could pretty much straight-line it, whereas the vehicles would have to find tracks that would allow them to progress puncture-free. 

From recollection, we had a support vehicle puncture almost every day, and I was very thankful for Rory's experience and pre-trek planning to equip each Defender with two spares and hardened tyres.

This day passed without further incident, and by about 4pm, we descended onto a flat plain flanked by rolling hills. When I'd described the campsite to Simon, who, as usual, would be the first to arrive, I'd told him, "You can't miss it. It is the only area of soft sand surrounded by the usual stones". And as we came over the ridge, we could see the expanse of brown sand amongst the grey and black surface of the Nefud. We could also see the specks that were our tents, which was always a really welcome sight, so once on the flat sand, I pushed Shahan. At first, he was casually trotting, but I urged him on again, and with about a kilometre to go, I yelled "Hutt!- Hutt!" He needed no encouragement and took off at pace. I could hear the other riders shouting the same, so the race was on! 

I pushed him on, and he was one of the fastest camels I have ever ridden. He was a massive animal with a stride to match. I was convinced that I would be first into camp… I was wrong.

With about 100 metres to go, Mishal Abu Tayi, of the Bedouin Police, came by me; his camel was now moving at full speed, and Mishal, being much lighter than I, had the advantage. I'd later find out that his camel was considered the fastest of Jordan's Bedouin Police Camels.

That evening's camp was in serene beauty, and it was the last camp that we'd have detached from any form of civilisation or visitors. 

The next day, we'd ride 50 km to Al Jafr, which was the ancestral home of Auda Abu Tayi, and we had a ride of two halves. The first half was back on the flat plain of stone, and it was about lunchtime when we received a message that our sponsors and visitors were heading towards us, which meant we were a car's drive from Aqaba, about 230 km.

In the distance, we could see some vehicles, but it wasn't possible to tell whether they were moving or not, so we rode towards them, and the dots on the horizon gradually took shape. I asked on the radio if the vehicles were moving and was told they had gone static.  

As we rode across the vast plain towards them, I was reminded of the scene in the Lawrence film, when Omar Sharif rode out of the desert to shoot Lawrence's friend for drinking from the wrong well. What must have our seven camels looked like trotting casually towards them? 

From about two kilometres away, we could make out the humans milling around the vehicles, their faces obviously watching our approach. I hatched a plan but said nothing.

I started to look for markers on the desert floor that would allow me to judge a distance of about 600metres. I knew that from this distance, the camels could sustain a decent gallop. So, I asked the guys to come into line abreast as we got closer; the guests and their Jordanian escorts were now becoming very clear. I picked out a rock, which I thought was the right distance, and as we reached it, I told the team, "Let's let them have it!". I gave Shahan a prompt with my azhar (camel stick) and a loud "Hutt!" He charged!

I looked alongside me, and James and Tommo had hit the gallop along with Mishal. I couldn't see Craig, but I knew he'd be right there with us. We charged right at the group, and I can only imagine what 7 x 650 kg camels coming at you at full tilt must look like.

With about 30 metres to go, I pulled back on Shahan and told him "Oh-Oh", which he knew meant slow. In no time, we were amongst Mike M and Ben J, our Trek Benefactors, Richard Hammond of Top Gear fame, and John A, our former Club Chair. Shahan did a 360, and with a command of "Huck", along with a gentle tap on his left shoulder with my foot, he knelt down. I dismounted to greet and thank the guests for their support. We had lunch, and we knew that despite one really tough day ahead of us, on which we'd have to recross the Hejaz, that we were going to make it.

That afternoon, the guests enjoyed the desert driving and being alongside the camels. We dropped into a lower plateau onto very soft sand, which made for excellent trotting, and we "ate-ground" to the camp, which was still in soft sand but sheltered by a sand berm.  

When we arrived, the Bedouin Police had set up a special desert majlis, and within a few minutes, some black SUVs arrived. One of the Jordanian told me, "The Chief has arrived".

Out of the SUV emerged a distinguished-looking Arab, a Howeitat. In fact, “the Howeitat”; this was Auda Abu Tayi, the grandson of the original hero, and now the Chief Protocol Officer to His Majesty King Abdullah. We greeted each other like old friends, having spoken on the phone many times. Auda had been instrumental in facilitating the clearance in Jordan and Saudi Arabia.

We walked casually to the Bedouin Majlis, where Arabic coffee and camel milk were served. It was idyllic and a privilege to be in this desert setting and surrounded by Howeitats and other Abu Tayees’.

Auda explained that the Bedouin Police Commander wanted to gift me Shahan, but I told him, "Please don't say it just to be courteous. If he is really offering him, I will arrange to take him to the UAE, where he'd be magnificent in the Hamdan Heritage Centre farm and the place I ride when not trekking. Needless to say, I don't yet have Shahan, but it was a lovely gesture.

That evening, after Auda had departed, our guests emerged from their SUV with gifts for us, which included a couple of bottles of liquid from a distillery in Scotland. It has been nearly a month since any of the team had a drink, so each sipped gingerly. Needless to say, we slept well that night. Tomorrow, we'd cross the Hejaz Railway line, and camp close to the site of the Battle of Ma'an, where Auda Abu Tayi had charged headlong into a company of Turks, was shot six times, but came out unscathed. In the same battle, Lawrence was nearly killed when he accidentally shot his camel in the head. Hopefully, our day would be less eventful.