My winter vacation, which was about as exciting as watching paint dry, has just taken a joyride straight into Awesomeville! Last Thursday, my dad dropped the bombshell that we’re going camping in LIWA! I nearly flipped my lid! Now, for those of you who are scratching your heads about LIWA, don’t sweat it; I’ve got your back. Picture this: the Liwa International Festival, cramming the last few days of the year with more excitement than a cat in a laser pointer fight, is back to jazz up the Al Dhafra desert!

This winter fiesta has been wooing visitors for over two decades, pulling in crowds that could fill a small stadium—like 40,000 people who thought, “What better way to freeze than in the desert?” The Liwa Oasis stretches across an east-west arc longer than your average family road trip—over 100 kilometres—and boasts some of the world’s biggest sand dunes. Seriously, these dunes are taller than your average giraffe at over 150 meters!

Now let’s continue with my story. On Friday, we crashed at our friend’s house like a bunch of travel warriors gearing up for an epic camping adventure, and we stayed over like it was a slumber party! The next day, we revved up the car, and our first pit stop was Al Dhafra Mall, where we refreshed ourselves and snagged lunch—I went for the gourmet delight of vegetable fried rice because, you know, health is wealth! We devoured our lunch in a park nearby, then we were off to LIWA, feeling like serious road trip pros.

After approximately one hour (but it felt like an eternity in the car), we finally reached the camping spot. All the kids darted towards the small sand dunes, which were about two times my height. My mom and the aunties were in full-on culinary battle mode, whipping up mouthwatering meals like barbequed chicken, prawns, and fried fish. Meanwhile, my dad and the uncles were channelling their inner architects, setting up tents like they were building a five-star hotel! The tent I was destined to conquer for the night was a fiery red, my favourite colour—because if you’re camping, you might as well do it in style!

There were a ton of cars that were bravely climbing the monstrous dunes, which were probably a hundred times taller than my wildest dreams. After what felt like a feast fit for royalty, we all snoozed off—well, sort of. I was trying to sleep (more like shivering uncontrollably, thinking I was a human popsicle) when I heard a chatterbox convention breaking out nearby. I peeked outside and spotted all the adults warming up like marshmallows around a campfire they managed to whip up. Naturally, I made my grand escape from the tent and dove into the chaos to join them for a lively round of Antakshari.

The uncles and aunties were joyfully unleashing their hidden talent for singing, while I played the role of the enthusiastic cheerleader, making jokes that were definitely funnier to me than anyone else (I had no clue what ancient tunes they were belting out). After munching on chestnuts—because apparently, it’s a nutty kind of night—we all wished each other good night and finally crashed at 2 am, because who needs sleep when you have late-night shenanigans, right?

After 5 hours and 10 minutes (which my watch insisted was time but felt more like a Netflix binge marathon), I finally woke up. But then—plot twist—a gigantic swimming pool of drainage water had decided to throw a party in the washroom, making it a no-go zone! So, along with everyone else who had urgent nature calls, we awkwardly piled into our cars like sardines and zoomed off to find a functional washroom. When we returned to the campsite, a glorious egg sandwich breakfast awaited us, which was obviously the highlight of our morning. We played for a bit, stuffed everything into the car like we were preparing for a game of Tetris, and then it hit me—my camping adventure was over. Cue the sad trombone!

We agreed to rendezvous at the next petrol station, a hotspot that was about as thrilling as a trip to the DMV, and off we went in my car, packed tighter than a can of sardines with my family, friends, and a little cutie who seemed convinced my lap was the VIP seat of the universe. Before we could actually hit the road, my dad decided we needed an epic desert detour so thrilling it felt like the camels might start throwing confetti. Meanwhile, we transformed the car into our personal disco, blasting music as if we were the next great party on wheels!

After what felt like centuries of him driving, we finally stopped at the next petrol station—also known as “the land of gourmet cuisine,” where we feasted on a meal that was questionable at best: roti, dal that could double as glue, bland ladies’ fingers, and a chicken sneakily misplacing itself in my egg biryani. Once our taste buds recovered from that rollercoaster, we cruised over to another restaurant where my other friends were dining like royalty. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy as I watched them savouring the meal of their lives—roti, mushroom masala, noodles, biryani, and a parade of other deliciousness that made my stomach grumble in protest.

After saying our “see ya later, alligator” goodbyes, my family and I embarked on the treacherous journey back home, just a bunch of road warriors. My dad, being the quintessential gas station hero, decided to pit stop at another petrol bunk where he snagged my mom a lemon tea (because everyone needs a citrus pick-me-up), my sister a watermelon juice (because hydration is key), and an avocado milkshake for me and my dad (the green smoothie brigade strikes again!). After chugging our booster beverages like champions, we finally revved up for home. The moment we arrived, my mom transformed into a spa director, insisting we take hot baths as if we’d just come back from a marathon—or, you know, a long car ride. Post-bath and feeling like new people, we rallied the troops for a culinary escapade at a place called VEGME. We devoured ghee dosa, masala ghee dosa, sambar vada, and mushroom and corn pulao that tasted so good, I half-expected Gordon Ramsay to pop out and yell, “Delicious!” After feasting, my mom and sister went off on a grocery adventure worthy of a reality show (because we needed to stock up on all the essential veggies and fruits), while my dad and I decided that sleep was the ultimate prize. Hours later, my sister and mom returned, their shopping bags bursting (or should I say “groaning”?) under the weight of their victorious haul, only to join us in the great land of slumber.

I thought about all the wild adventures yet to come and dozed off, dreaming of s’mores and firewood fights. My dad even dropped a cheeky hint about another camping trip on New Year’s—because nothing says “ringing in the New Year” like dodging raccoons at 2 AM! Honestly, what better way to celebrate than with a campsite disco featuring those party-loving raccoons? And that, my friends, was my epic camping trip!

Here are some slightly blurred pictures and a video of my trip that will have you questioning my photography skills—my camera must’ve thought it was on a rollercoaster!

THE END