Grand tours: Here's one for the Ministry of Silly Walks

Adventures in literature: Michael Palin soon regretted taking up the challenge of travelling on foot with camels in the Sahara

The nicest man in travel, Michael Palin has turned his attentions to one of the world's most inhospitable landscapes. More than four months of filming resulted in just four one-hour programmes for the BBC, in which the ex-Python reveals the Sahara's diverse cultures and landscapes. Here, he leaves the TV cameras behind and attempts to keep up with a Touareg camel caravan, as they cross the Tenere desert in Niger, considered by savants to be the most beautiful region of the Sahara's vastness.

By mid-morning, having completed shots of departure from camp, the crew and gear are taken on in vehicles to the next stopping place. I could go with them, but I've not walked much with the camels in the heat of the day and I feel I must try it. I fill my water bottle, and take another litre, which Omar insists on carrying for me. We set off, 26 camels, eight cameleers, me, Omar, one sheep and a small black goat. No one is striding out. The overriding consideration in this climate is to conserve energy, and I fall happily into the steady even pace ...

Omar and I fall to talking about the health of camels and what threats they face out here ... One esoteric piece of information is that if a camel eats a praying mantis it will die. The camel, that is, not the praying mantis.

I stop to jot down this little gem, and by the time I've put my notebook back in my bag, Omar has moved ahead, his well-worn light blue robe billowing out to reveal deep blue cotton leggings beneath. Several camels have passed me ...

The wind changes direction and starts to blow grains of sand directly towards me. I glance sideways up at the camels, but they seem completely unaffected, long lashes down, protecting their eyes from whatever is thrown at them.

I take a swig of water, trying not to break step as I do so. Omar is even further away now, and I'm almost halfway down the camel train, alongside Izambar, who returns my smile but, for once, says nothing.

I look down. The desert floor has changed yet again and is now covered in a series of crusty flakes, like fragments of eggshell. Like dew, dried and hardened.

I look back at my footprints. They're quite deep, much deeper than the camel prints beside them. Their broad feet work like snowshoes, distributing their weight and leaving barely a mark ...

Time for some more water. I've almost drained my water bottle, but I notice none of the cameleers has taken a drop. We're walking along a wadi and Omar is up on top of a low dune, scanning the land ahead. As we draw level I raise my bottle and he comes down towards me and fills it up again.

Then he leads us out of the wadi and on to the dune, beautiful to look at but murderous underfoot. My feet slip down into the sand and for the first time on the walk I feel faint alarm ...

Elias Abrokas, swathed in a multicoloured scarf, draws water from a green plastic container into a stainless steel bowl and walks up the line with it. No one seems to take more than a couple of gulps, and the camels don't stop.

The sight makes me thirsty and I take out my bottle. It's nearly empty again, and by now I'm level with the last three camels. Tuck my bottle in my bag, put my head down and concentrate on catching up ...

After a few minutes of concentrated effort I look up and see Omar as far ahead as ever. I redouble my efforts, setting myself a target to pass three camels in five minutes, but make no headway at all ... If I pause for a breather I know I shall only slip further back. To shout for help seems pathetic. I look ahead of me. The camel train moves on remorselessly ...

The last camel comes level and passes me. My mouth is dry but I've no water. The stories I've heard around the campfire spring to mind. Of vehicles breaking down and guides dying of thirst as they went for help ...

In only two hours, the joy of solitariness and contemplation has become the fear of isolation and abandonment. Marine metaphors come constantly to mind. I'm out of my depth.

Readers can buy 'Sahara', by Michael Palin (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, £20) for the special price of £16 including free p&p (UK only). Call 01903 828 503 and quote ref: JASI

Follow in the footsteps

Welcome to the wilderness

The western reaches of Africa remain largely unspoilt by the effects of mass tourism. Niger, invaded by the Tenere and Bilma deserts, offers some spectacular landscapes as well as examples of colonial architecture in its capital, Niamey.

Getting there

Package tours of Niger are scarce. For more information call the Niger embassy in France (00 33 45 04 80 60; www.chechetours.com). Alternatively, Cox and Kings (020-7873 5000; www.coxandkings.co.uk) offers a nine-day tour in the footsteps of Michael Palin called "Mali: The Road to Timbuktu" for £1,645 per person, based on two sharing. The next tour departs on 12 February.

Tom Mackenzie