There exists at the heart of the desert a silence that words cannot quite describe. You can approach it, circle it, but never fully capture it in a sentence. It is a silence that is not the absence of sound — it is something active that fills space.
The first night in the erg, you notice it as soon as the fire dies down. There is no hum of traffic, no distant siren, no refrigerator cycling, no aircraft overhead. The last of these is the strangest to lose. You don't realise how accustomed you are to the sound of aeroplanes until it is gone.
What remains is wind — but intermittent wind, which means you also have the intervals between wind. Those intervals are the deepest quiet most people from cities will ever experience. Some find it disturbing at first. After a day, most find it the most restorative thing they have ever felt.
"In the city you hear noise. In the desert you hear yourself."
Mustapha says the colour of silence changes through the day. Before dawn it is dark blue, almost black. At noon it is white and pressing. At dusk it is amber — the same colour as the sand — and this is when it is most generous, most open. At night it is transparent, and the stars come through it.
We cannot manufacture this for you. We can only take you somewhere quiet enough that you begin to notice it yourself. The rest is yours.
🌙 Find this silence yourself — on any of our overnight bivouac treks. See all treks →