Between the styling of the camp and the emptiness of the place itself, it’s easy to like this throwback to Thesiger’s time. And when one is done talking, reading, and drinking tea to the buzzing of flies, the desert offers up something new again. It’s a silence you can hear, especially among the dunes. Danny appears to connect with it, too. Under the cover of night, he wants to know the name of every star—out here, they’ve never seemed more bright, more alive. We’re a million miles from the PlayStation culture of his home, and for the moment that seems like the perfect vacation.

On our last day in the desert, one of the guides suggests a visit to an oasis. Envisioning a picnic beneath a stand of date palms, I’m keen, even though I’m warned it will involve a three-hour journey in the 4×4, slipping and sliding up and down the dunes. Danny agrees to come along.

The desert scenery proves tedious for him; once you become accustomed to the dunes, they all look pretty much the same. The only surprise along the way is the bleached bones of a camel splayed on the sand. When we stop to examine it, Danny takes the coccyx with him back into the car, and does his best to endure the next two hours of the drive graciously.

Finally we arrive at the oasis, which is marked by a small pool of sulfur-smelling water in the sand. Around the edges of this puddle—and a puddle is all it is—stand but a few blades of green. It’s hardly the lush, romantic vision of my imagination. Danny sidles up to me for a closer look.