Sebha has a domestic airport and I was using it as my  gateway; it allowed me to jump from the coastal capital of Tripoli into deeper, Saharan Libya. The foreign correspondents are now feeding back items about the importance of the tribes in the area. This is something that resonates for me, because although I only had the opportunity for a few hours in the area before heading away from the town and into the desert itself, the impression it left me with was strong and one I can only describe as ‘indigenous intimacy’.

The airport itself is tiny, but was full of almost exclusively men, all in traditional dress, who appeared to be kissing one another incessantly. There was not one hint of western influence outside of the dated X-ray machines. There were a small number of officials who appeared to wield extraordinary influence and everyone was taking turns to implore them for some small mercy. From the passion on display it was hard to tell if the locals were begging for an extra kilo’s worth of baggage allowance or the chance to see their family. I had already learned by this stage, that it was better not to ask questions about officialdom in Libya. I wonder if that will still be true in a few years’ time.

Sebha is a short flight and a long way from Tripoli. Tripoli felt like the Mediterranean city that it is. Not even four decades of Gaddafi could dilute that feel. But Sebha and the Fezzan are a different world. All the people I met in Tripoli showed an awareness and interest in the countries that bordered the Mediterranean and beyond. Those I met in southwest Libya did not.

… now we’re so low on heating oil, firewood, coal and food that the sense of humour reserves are looking a bit depleted! School’s off the menu and the kids refuse to play in the snow anymore as they’re bored of it now. They go mental after being cooped up inside for this long, so my wife has inflated the boxing bag that they were given for Christmas in the optimistic hope that they might stop hitting each other and us.

Drastic evasive action needed and so I went on a crazy solo excursion (after spending an hour digging the car out of the snow and defrosting it). I returned with coal, a little wood and food. The car got me there and nearly all the way back, but I needed a spade and lots of gravel to make it back up our road. I staggered back in the door, coal bag slung over one shoulder and covered in rapidly freezing sweat. Nice.

Things are a bit warmer now, but feeling like a change of scenery and unable to edit the white from the view outside, I decided to go through some photos of my trip to Libya in March. There were so many unusual sights that I didn’t have time to look into after returning. This is a photo of what I presume to be a large fossil in the desert rock? It was about 3-4 feet across. Answers, as usual, on a postcard or, failing that, an email please.

Sand and camels, sand and tent, sand in eyes and sand in tea. The full desert experience.