Walking in the baking heat of the desert landscape in Northern Fuerteventura, my mouth was dry, my skin burned, the air seemed to suck moisture direct from my lungs. The wind whipped sand across my legs and every step in the soft sand was an effort in the middy sunshine.
At the back of a beach these would be no more than fun dunes but even in this very small piece of landscape, the distant hills seemed even further away than I’d imagined, and each sandy hill was a mountain that defeated uphill progress. I found a drinks can, so beaten by the ultraviolet radiation and intense conditions that it was completely devoid of its original colours and was breaking down in structure.
And yet, despite the extreme sensations I was experiencing, there was a beauty in the hostile environment, a delicate aesthetic that lures you in to its heart; unspoiled virginal white sand sculpted by nature into wonderful curvaceous shapes.
Every time I revisit this island I am drawn back to this mini desert, but it has left me with a thirst to experience more vast and impressive deserts. Is it that the shifting surfaces and the labyrinthine of changing landscape features makes these places more magical, or surreal? It may be that we are visiting Namibia in 2018 so my curiosity and hunger for these places may be sated.