In Spring, the sun rises slowly over the Taoudenni Basin. As the orange glow on the horizon gradually lightens to a pale yellow, the herd of goats start to move, sniffing each other before stretching their skinny undernourished legs and starting the day on the incessant search for plant life in the baking heat of the Sahara.
The faithful being called to their first prayer of the day are faintly audible, and the morning temperature, not chilly but pleasant before the sun makes an appearance, thinks about its daily inexorable rise.
Sat drinking coffee and picking at fresh dates, a couple of muffled “Salaam w’allah koum’s” are exchanged with people who appear to have just woken from a thousand year sleep,
Its only when I see the guy who does the night shift coming in for an early coffee that I realise that my smartphone has thought for itself, and moved my clock forward one hour, when, here in Mauritania, we dont do that.
Thanks technology. You’re great.