Dune Bashing in Abu Dhabi Desert

There are few moments in life where you realize—truly realize—that you are wildly out of your element… and yet exactly where you're meant to be. For me, that moment happened somewhere deep in the Abu Dhabi desert, strapped into a silver 4 Runner that was growling like a dragon about to pounce, right before launching us off a dune with the force of a thousand rollercoasters.

I’d booked the tour thinking it would be a scenic drive through the sand, maybe some camels, a little Instagram moment at sunset. You know, peaceful. Serene. Soulful. And then our driver, who wore mirrored sunglasses and smiled like he had secrets, deflated the tires, cranked the music, and floored it.

Welcome to dune bashing.

For the next 40 minutes, our SUV tore through the desert like it had beef with gravity. We climbed steep, crumbling dunes, paused at their peaks (which felt like standing on the edge of the earth), then dropped—sideways, backwards, diagonally, full send. Every angle of descent felt like a physics experiment gone rogue. My core was fully activated. My voice? Somewhere between scream-laughing and gasp-breathing. You don’t casually dune bash—you survive it with your dignity half-intact and a thin layer of sand in your teeth.

But in between the chaos came moments of stillness when we stopped in the middle of the desert, a hauntingly beautiful silence. Orange dunes that stretch endlessly, shadows that shift with the wind, and a sky that begins to pinken as the sun edges toward the horizon. It doesn’t feel real—it feels like you’re standing in someone’s dream.

And just when I thought the experience had peaked, we pulled up to what looked like a mirage: a glowing desert camp surrounded by flickering lanterns and woven carpets laid across the sand. This is where the night truly unfolded.

Our starlit dinner was the kind of scene that ruins you for regular restaurants. We ate under a sky so clear you could trace the constellations with your finger. Camels lounged lazily at the edge of the camp, occasionally grumbling at each other like retirees arguing about the weather. There was live music—soft, rhythmic, hypnotic. Then came the fire dancers, spinning and leaping with flames that lit up the sand in bursts of gold. It was hypnotic, primal, and completely mesmerizing.

The food? A never-ending buffet of warm, flavorful, and Middle Eastern food. Grilled meats, rice spiced just right, fresh pita, and the kind of desserts that make you forget you're full.

Every bite tasted better under the stars.

By the end of the night, barefoot in the sand, sipping mint tea and watching embers drift into the sky, I felt completely unraveled in the best way. No Wi-Fi, no to-do list, no city noise. Just adrenaline, stars, and the kind of deep calm that only comes after you’ve screamed your lungs out and then dined like royalty in the middle of nowhere.

So no, dune bashing wasn’t what I expected. It was wild. It was dusty. It was sweaty and sandy and so much fun it made my face hurt from smiling. And that dinner under the stars? Magic.

If you're ever in Abu Dhabi and your soul needs a good shake, book the dune adventure. Strap in. Hold tight. Let go. Because somewhere between the dunes and the fire dancers, I found a kind of joy that only the desert can give.