I was born in the Sahara, in a nomad family that lived with the rhythm of the desert. My childhood was made of silence, starry nights, camel caravans, and the smell of bread baked under the sand. Today I live in M’hamid El Ghizlane, the last village before the great dunes, where the road stops and the desert begins.

M’hamid is not just a place on the map. It is a feeling. It is the transition between the palm groves of the Drâa Valley and the infinite waves of sand that lead to Erg Chigaga and Erg Zahar. It is where travelers leave behind noise and discover the beauty of simplicity.

Walking through the village, you can still feel the spirit of the ancient caravan routes that once connected Timbuktu and Marrakech. “El Ghizlane” means land of gazelles, and even if the gazelles are rare today, the spirit of freedom they carried still belongs here.

When you stay in M’hamid, you don’t just visit the desert—you become part of it. You can join a camel caravan with my nomad friends, sit by the fire listening to drums, share tea under a tamarisk tree, or watch the sky turn into a cathedral of stars. The desert has no walls, but it holds you like a home.

The Spiritual Heart of the Sahara

The Sahara around M’hamid is more than dunes and sand—it is a place of spirit. Out here, silence becomes a teacher. The horizon has no limit, and it opens something inside you. Many people who walk in the desert tell me they feel lighter, as if the wind takes away the weight they carried from their lives.

The desert invites meditation without effort. When you sit in the dunes at sunset, your breath naturally slows down, your mind becomes quiet, and you feel connected to something greater. At night, under millions of stars, you realize how small you are and how vast life is. This is why so many travelers come here not only for adventure, but for transformation.

“As-ṣaḥrā’ madrasat aṣ-ṣabr” – The desert is the school of patience.

“Fī aṣ-ṣamt, tasmaʿ qalbak” – In silence, you can hear your heart.

“The stars are the lamps of the desert, guiding the soul as much as the traveler.”

For centuries, nomads and spiritual seekers have crossed these lands, finding guidance in the silence and energy of the Sahara. The dunes near M’hamid, like Erg Zahar or Sidi Naji, are not only beautiful—they are sacred spaces where the desert itself whispers wisdom.

A group of people, one wearing a traditional blue turban, riding camels across vast desert dunes at sunset. The sky is a gradient of yellow and orange. — Camel trekking through the majestic dunes near M'hamid El Ghizlane.

A Living Invitation

Today, I invite people from all over the world to come and experience this magic. Whether it’s one night under the stars or a week walking with camels, M’hamid offers something that no city can give you: silence, connection, and the memory of an ancient way of life.

For me, guiding here is not work—it is sharing a part of who I am. If you come to M’hamid, I will be here to welcome you, to walk with you into the dunes, and to let the desert speak to you, as it once spoke to me when I was a child.