The Eye of the Sahara is a bullseye 40 kilometres across, and from the ground you cannot see it at all. Astronauts can. Ed White and James McDivitt photographed the rings from orbit during Gemini IV in 1965, and NASA has used them as a landmark ever since, in a stretch of desert otherwise empty of rivers, roads and towns. The circle looked too neat to be natural, and for decades geologists called it an impact crater. The truth is slower. Around 100 million years ago molten rock rose beneath this plain and pushed the flat-lying sandstones up into a dome. Erosion then planed the dome away, biting deep into the soft beds and leaving the hard quartzite ones standing as concentric ridges.
Getting inside means a 4x4 and a guide from Ouadane, the medieval caravan town on the edge of the plateau. Within the rings there are no roads, no wells and no signs. What you find is a rust-and-ochre plain of shattered stone, cut by long, low ridges. Climb one and the scale finally lands: the crest curves away from you and keeps curving, until it dissolves into the haze kilometres off. In the dry wadis of the outer ring lie hand axes, worked from the same quartzite and left where Stone Age toolmakers dropped them. Mauritania's Adrar is open to travellers again, with winter charter flights from France landing at Atar and desert trips running out of Ouadane. The nights inside the Eye are unlit and silent, and the nearest town lights are tens of kilometres beyond the rim.