The Liwa Desert is a crescent of date oases a hundred kilometres long on the rim of the Empty Quarter in the Al Dhafra region of Abu Dhabi, in the United Arab Emirates, where the ruling family of the emirate farmed dates before it moved to the coast, and it is the gateway to the tallest dunes in the country, red ridges bashed by four-wheel drive, boarded down and camped between under a sky with no city glow. The oases were the home of the Bani Yas, who moved between the Liwa palm gardens and the pearl beds of the coast with the seasons, and the gardens are still there, water drawn from the aquifer keeping the ground green a few metres from an ocean of sand; beyond the last village the dunes rise to Moreeb, which the tourism authority puts at 300 metres and which is comfortably the tallest in the country, with a face pitched past fifty degrees that is raced up by trucks and motorbikes in a festival each winter and boarded down by anyone with wax and a board. The rust colour is not the sand itself but a coat of iron oxide on each grain.
The dune bashing is the day: a driver crests a ridge, drops down its blind far side and climbs the next at an angle that feels wrong from the passenger seat, on the ridges below Moreeb where the sand is deepest. Camels move at the speed the Bani Yas crossed this desert for centuries, on rides along the ridgelines at dusk, and the camps are pitched in the hollows between the dunes, far from any light, where the night sky comes out in real depth and on still winter mornings the fog settles into the hollows and leaves only the red crests showing above it, burning off within an hour or two of sunrise. Liwa is where the palms meet the Empty Quarter, and the dunes beyond are the biggest in the Emirates.