The Desert Trek – Part 2: The Stars of Rum
Travel & Outdoors·EN·2 min read·Published 2026-11-07, updated 2026-11-07·Part 2 of 2
On the last night, the sky came down.
They camped in a hollow between two enormous cliffs, far from any light. The fire burned low, a small red heart in the dark. Faris had spread blankets on the sand, and a pot of tea sat on the embers. The air was cold and crystalline, scented with woodsmoke and sage. The silence was immense.
Imogen lay on her back with her head on her rucksack, looking up. The Milky Way arched across the whole sky from rim to rim, thick and glittering, a river of silver. There were so many stars that the dark between them seemed an accident. A meteor flashed and died.
"Nobody tells you," she whispered.
"Tells you what?"
"That it would be like this."
"It is hard to describe." Faris lay on the blanket beside her, a respectful arm's length away, hands behind his head. "I try every night. I fail every night."
"What do you say?"
"I say: look up."
She laughed softly. A cool wind stirred the sand. Far off, a fox barked. The fire crackled. Somewhere in the dark, the camels shifted and snorted.
"I don't want to go home," she said.
"Then do not."
"I have a job."
"You have a notebook."
She turned her head. He was looking at her, not at the stars, and in the faint light his eyes were warm and serious.
"Can I ask you something?" said Imogen.
"Yes."
"May I kiss you, Faris?"
"Yes," he said, very quietly. "And if you say stop, you must come back to Rum in the spring, when the desert flowers."
"That's no punishment."
"I hoped."
She kissed him, warm and a little shy, a hand rising to his headscarf. He kissed her back with a slow, wondering sweetness, tasting of tea and sage. The fire ticked. The Milky Way burned above them.
When they parted, both of them were smiling.
"Green?" he asked.
"Green," said Imogen. "Very green."
She came back in the spring, and again in the autumn. There is a new rock on the route with a new name. It is called The Geologist. It is not insulted.
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