Sahara Expedition in Tunisia

Dispatches from the Sahara: Tales of an Expedition Crew Member

There’s nothing quite like the Sahara to remind you how small and unpredictable life can be. As a crew member on Sahara Expedition, I had a front-row seat to the chaos and beauty of bringing a 1934-style adventure to life. Between logistical surprises, the vast desert’s whims, and moments of unexpected connection, every day felt like a new chapter in a story none of us could have written alone.

A Rainy Beginning

Our first night in the desert offered a poetic twist: it rained. Yes, rain in the Sahara! The players were settling into their 1930s personas under the open sky, and suddenly, a gentle patter of raindrops began to fall. For a moment, the crew exchanged wide-eyed glances. It wasn’t a storm, just a brief and unexpected blessing from the heavens, as though the desert itself wanted to remind us that even it could surprise. The players took it in stride, wrapping themselves in blankets and marveling at the rarity of it all. The rain was a sign, we joked—inshallah, the desert was on our side.

The Randomness of the Sahara

Africa teaches you that control is an illusion, and the desert drives that lesson home. One of my most memorable missteps came during the climactic final ritual. I was tasked with setting up part of the scene—a crucial moment that tied together weeks of preparation and narrative build-up. But as I moved through the dunes, I realized I had no idea where I was. The landmarks I had memorized shifted in the desert’s ever-changing landscape, and suddenly, I was lost. Cue the panic.

Luckily, Daniele—calm, composed, and far better at navigating the sands than I was—stepped in and saved the day. The ritual went on seamlessly, the players never suspecting a thing. It was a perfect example of the randomness we faced and the teamwork that pulled us through.

A Secret Birthday Under the Stars

The after-party for the expedition was a celebration in itself, but we had a secret mission: to arrange a surprise desert birthday party for one of the players. And what better way to mark the occasion than with a desert delicacy? We gathered dates—sweet, rich, and utterly appropriate—and presented them under the glow of lanterns. The birthday celebrant was delighted, and the night unfolded into a magical mix of laughter, storytelling, and shared triumphs. It was one of those moments where the boundary between fiction and reality disappeared entirely, leaving only the camaraderie of the moment.

The Long Road to Adventure

The journey begins long before the players step into their roles. First, there’s the flight to Tunis, a bustling capital where the past and present intertwine in vibrant chaos. Meeting the players there, we helped wrangle bags, costumes, and people onto buses. What was supposed to be two buses turned into three (because inshallah, plans in Africa are always subject to revision). With everyone finally settled, we set off on an eight-hour ride from Tunis to Douz, the gateway to the Sahara.

The bus ride itself became an experience. As the city faded into the rearview mirror, the landscape shifted from fertile fields to arid plains. Players alternated between rehearsing their roles and marveling at the scenery, a mix of anticipation and excitement hanging in the air. By the time we arrived in Douz, exhaustion mingled with a renewed sense of energy—we were finally at the edge of the great desert.

From Douz, the real adventure began. First in a hotel, that set the scene with the workshops and a short intro. Then in hte morning a convoy of jeeps whisked us deeper into the wilderness, bumping and weaving through dunes and dry riverbeds as we headed into Jebil National Park. The isolation became palpable; cell service disappeared, and it felt like we were crossing an invisible line into another world. The desert was now our stage, and we were its inhabitants.