"Now, though, it was raining as we loaded the three 4x4 cars that would take us to the dunes of southern Morocco.

It was clear the locals weren't used to the weather - one man strolled past holding a closed umbrella above his head.

My group of 11 travellers from the UK - including solicitors and social workers, and all experts in dealing with downpours - had decided that a long weekend in the sun, miles from civilisation, was an excellent way to escape the daily grind.

The trip started in Morocco's movie-making capital, Ouarzazate. Ironically, the name means 'city without noise' but it is bustling with locals and tourists. It has always been busy. In the 16th Century it was the main crossroads from Sub-Saharan Africa up to Marrakech in the north.

It was around here that many of the scenes from epics such as Gladiator, Lawrence Of Arabia, The Last Temptation Of Christ and Star Wars were filmed. The landscape was used as one of the locations in Star Wars for Tatooine, the home planet of Luke Skywalker.

We followed a route through the Draa Valley, driving over the surprisingly green Anti-Atlas Mountains which stretch all the way to the Atlantic Ocean.

Screeching round precarious hairpin bends in the mountains was a bit hair-raising, but the vast, unspoilt landscape was more than enough to keep my mind off the fact that we often appeared to be heading straight off a precipice. The immense, rolling hills of the Anti-Atlas gave way to flatter, drier land.

The first sign of a village en route was always a football pitch - well, a couple of wooden frames erected opposite each other on a flat piece of land. Then, just round the corner, loomed the kasbahs - fortresses constructed from local clay and almost inseparable from their surrounding landscape.

As the sun came out, we stopped to explore a 16th Century kasbah. Ait Benhaddou sits on top of a hill, surrounded by wheat and palm trees. Inside is a maze of corridors and low doorways, all leading to rooms that are still lived in.

Our guide, Ali, was embarrassed to find some rather past-it tagine (traditional Moroccan food) festering in the kitchen. For us, it just added to the magical atmosphere.

The walls are so thick that even in the searing summer heat, which can reach almost 50C, the inside of the kasbah remains cool.

The earth-coloured walls are complemented with brightly painted ceilings in beautiful blues and rich reds. The wooden lattices (mosharabi) at the windows are designed to protect women's modesty as they look out - they are the Moroccan equivalent of net curtains and ideal for soaking up a bit of juicy gossip.

Our final stop before plunging into the desert was the town of Zagora, the main crossing point into the Sahara. Most impressive is its oasis. Two million date palms sprawl as far as the eye can see, producing 80 different varieties of the fruit. From here, medjool dates are exported worldwide.

The Anti-Atlas Mountains used to be under the sea and are rich with fossils. As we drove further from them the road turned to dirt tracks. Then came the bumps.

The driver navigated what seemed to be miles of rocky hillocks by following dry river beds. We sped through some of them, being unceremoniously jolted in every direction. Our voices were shaky as we laughed uncontrollably at the sensation. As the terrain became less rough, the first sand dune appeared in the distance. That was where we pitched camp.

Although the group had known each other for only a day, everyone mucked in. Nomadic urges from our distant past came to the fore as people marked their territory with piles of rocks - something that the locals use to indicate land boundaries.

We ladies were pleased to see that chivalry is not dead as a couple of the men strode off to dig the latrine, which was later subject to a much needed redesign - namely a longer drop.

Along with our guide Ali and three drivers, we had an excellent chef called Mohammed, who rustled up a delicious three-course meal while crouching in a candlelit tent.

Watching the sunrise the next morning was epic. As soon as the rays hit the sand, it became hot - very hot. If you suffer from rheumatism, you should lie down and cover yourself in scorching sand. It is said to alleviate pain.

After a somewhat gritty omelette for breakfast we packed up camp and headed for the village of Oulad Driss to get acquainted with some camels. I took pity on a particularly ugly one and hopped on board for a lolloping trek through sand dunes.

Our final day started with a nature walk. I was relieved to find that the odd marks in the sand were not from snakes but tiny beetles.

After getting back into our cars we took a route that is part of the famous Paris-Dakar Rally. Cue an unmissable opportunity to drive.

The vehicles had taken a bashing over the previous few days and once the engines were running it was not a good idea to turn them off again. I put my foot down and sped across a dried-up lake. The earth was like thousands of cracked pots strewn for miles in every direction. The only navigational points were mountains either side of us.

Dust spewed out from behind the car and my fellow travellers were surprised, when they eventually caught up, to see me behind the wheel. We hit more uneven terrain and the car stalled. Oops...

The sand-doused engine struggled to turn over and we began to worry - there was a sandstorm coming in.

Finally it roared into life and we made our way back north to Ouarzazate, where we started our expedition three days ago.

This is the ideal trip if you have only a few precious days off work. Its remote, grass-roots nature is truly cathartic. Expert guides fill you in on all aspects of Moroccan culture and regularly top you up with sweet tea.

Turn off your phone at the airport and don't even think about it until you touch down on your return."