From JuJu with Love

There are days when you wake up not fully understanding what you’ve signed up for… and then there are days you find yourself bouncing through the Sahara Desert in a jeep, laughing like a 12-year-old at summer camp. This was definitely the latter.

Our day started with jeep rides over the sand dunes — and let me tell you, seat belts were optional but laughter was mandatory. Picture a group of grown women shrieking with delight as we flew over dunes like we were auditioning for a very low-budget action movie. At some point, dignity was left behind in the sand, and honestly? None of us missed it.

Then came the camels.

If you’ve never ridden a camel, let me explain: it is not a graceful experience. It is a full-body event. You mount the camel thinking, How hard can this be? and then suddenly your core muscles are negotiating terms you never agreed to. Camels don’t just stand up — they launch you. First the back legs. Then the front. Somewhere in between, your abs scream, your balance is tested, and you question every plank you didn’t do at home.

Naturally, this only made us laugh harder.

Somewhere between the dunes and the camels, I met Melody — and by “met,” I mean instantly bonded like we’d known each other forever. Travel does that. One minute you’re strangers, the next you’re sharing snacks, stories, and uncontrollable giggles in the middle of the desert. Melody and I became fast friends, desert sisters united by sand, sweat, and questionable camel posture.

And then there was the photo.

The moment Melody dismounted her camel, the poor thing collapsed into the sand like it had just finished a double shift with no coffee. I swear the camel looked half dead — eyes closed, head down, fully committed to a dramatic desert faint. Melody steps away smiling… and behind her is a camel who appears to be rethinking every life choice that led him to this moment.

Later that day, we visited a date farm and met the owner, Mohammad. As Melody and I stood side by side listening to him explain how dates are grown and harvested, he paused, studied us for a moment, and in broken English asked:

“sisters?”

Without missing a beat, we looked at each other and burst out laughing.

But maybe he was onto something.

To this day, Melody and I still refer to each other as “sis,” a reminder that some friendships are born in the most unexpected places — even in the middle of the Sahara.

That’s the magic of travel. You arrive expecting sand and scenery, and you leave with sore muscles, unforgettable laughter, a hysterical camel photo, and a friendship that lasts long after the dunes fade into the distance.

From JuJu, with love. 💛🐪