Deep in the Sahara Desert of Mauritania, far off the beaten track, there’s a series of huge monoliths. Ben Amera (also spelled Amira) is the second-largest in the world at 633 m (2,077 ft), although if we take into account the portion below the desert sand, it may actually be bigger than Uluru in Australia!
People who’ve looked into visiting Mauritania – and perhaps some who’ve read about the Iron Ore Train – will have heard of Ben Amera, but the nearby Ben Aïsha (also spelled Aicha or Eicha) is lesser known. It’s equally impressive, and the two are linked by folk tales. In this post I’ll share my photos of both monoliths and the history I learned when I visited.
A monolith is a single stone, unlike a mountain that’s comprised of various layers and rocks. In Mauritanian folklore, Ben Amera and Ben Aïsha were once a couple, but drifted apart after a betrayal, leaving Ben Amera with an injury (a bump on its surface) and their children (other smaller monoliths) between them. It may literally be true that they were all once the same stone, because most monoliths are what’s left standing after lifetimes of erosion.
It’s pretty incredible to think that these are singular, giant rocks. You can see how smooth the faces of the monoliths are up close.
Ben Amera’s height has made it famous, but there’s something equally special about Ben Aïsha. At its feet is an open air art gallery. At a glance, the carvings could be ancient, but they were actually created by modern artists to commemorate the millennium.
The closest town is Choum, which is famous for the Iron Ore Train. The monoliths are so huge they can be spotted from both the town and train.
Like every ‘tourist attraction’ outside of Nouakchott, the barren land around the monoliths is deserted and there’s nothing else but dunes for miles.
The night I spent camping there was the last night I spent in the desert and my second-to-last day in Mauritania. I watched the sun set as the campfire crackled. In the morning, I saw the sun rise over the dunes. It was the perfect farewell to the desert I’d wanted to experience ever since I was a little kid.
Atlas and a Camera 