I was seemingly caught between two worlds — out the window to my right was a moving desert landscape under a blazing sun, and out to my left was a dense, impenetrable fog worthy of a damp London morning. My seat for this spectacle? A wooden bench in the back of an adapted Land Rover called Mr Harry.
Two new-found friends of mine and I were navigating our way through the Sahara in western Chad towards Mali, and the sand was quite unlike anything I’d experienced before. More like talcum powder, both in colour and texture, it was so fine that the lowpressure zone in the air to the left of Mr Harry (caused by wind coming from the right), was creating this perpetually moving cloud from the sand stirred by our tyres.