Within the limits of Morocco, near the border Argelí we are in t he doors of the great ocean of sand: the Sahara. From Merzouga we contemplate the giant dunes of the Erg Chebbi , it is a chain of fine sand dunes that can reach the 170 m of height and that seems to be separated from a much larger dune that is on the other side of the border. 

Beyond infinity, or as you can read in a poster of Zagora ” Tomboctou 52 days on camel” and a small arrow pointing south.


Almost at the end of the road we finally reached our goal: the Khamlia village, between Merzouga and Taouz. In the area it is known as “the people of the blacks”.

Effectively. When we got out of the car we found people with very dark skin, more typical of black African regions. Even more, because the contrast of the sand white, the white buildings of their houses in the town, and especially the white tunics accentuated the c ontrate.

We ask for the musicians and several children They took us to a mud house with three rooms. Friendly, hospitable and above all always smiling the musicians showed themselves , they offered us some teas, they taught us his house and we were introduced to his family. 

Inside one of the rooms we could see several photos of concerts they had done and offered to interpret some of the songs they had composed, to which we agreed in good taste.

Outside the room and with the bottom of the Gran Sahara we sat on cushions that prepared us, with a small table, teas and some nuts and dates.

They left with their traditional costumes and several old string instruments (small guitars with three strings and a kind of harp) and percussion, (Yembés, crótalos …).

This music tries to put the listener in a trance, with a catchy and contagious rhythm. His bittersweet tone brings him closer to the blues. The rattles start to set the rhythm and then the percussion of the yembés is following you in a desperate and cheerful way, the rhythm grows more and more until you immerse yourself in it.

We could not refuse to dance with them and imitate for a moment with the sun and the sand that surrounded us and dwarfed us.


Suddenly one of them picked up a few nuts from one of the dishes and threw them in front of us and whistled loudly, in half a second he landed a pigeon (very white) and began to follow the rhyme of the song by moving his head and legs. Our eyes remained as plates to see how the pigeon followed the whole song as if it was a choreography rehearsed a thousand times, stopping just when the musician was silent and starting again just by continuing to play again.


At the end we signed a guest book where other travelers put their comments and experiences. We said goodbye to the group. They told us they were called ” Les pigeon du Sable ” … The sand pigeons.