The town of Tata had for many centuries been a trading hub connecting caravan routes crossing the Sahara desert. Â The area had been inhabited since ancient times and the river Tata provided a lush oasis in the surrounding arid landscape. Â Tata was popular with tourists for desert excursions and trips to the local ancient fortified villages.
It was a 15 minute walk into town from our campsite.  The narrow streets were lined with stalls selling fruit and vegetables.  To the rear of the stalls were little shops set back from the street, shaded from the heat of the sun.  We wanted to buy some bread – we knew there was a baker’s nearby as there was a tantalising smell of bread baking in a wood-fired oven.  Round and round we went, sniffing the air but we couldn’t locate the source.  When we eventually asked for directions we were shown an insignificant door just round the corner in a dark alley.  Once inside we discovered all the joys of a French boulangerie.
The weather was warm but very, very windy. Â The wind would come up suddenly in the middle of the day, sand and dust swirled in the air. Â We soon realised that, if you wrapped a scarf around your face and head, it provided good protection against the gritty air. Â We were going native!
