Be a voluntourist at Dubai's Desert Conservation Reserve

There is a technique for driving a 2.5 tonne Land Rover up and over particularly steep dunes. Apparently, it involves accelerating only to the point at which the car's momentum carries it over the dune's crest, but no further. As our car sits, nose in the sand, vibrating from the shock of impact, it's clear that our technique may need a little polish. Alarmingly, my seatbelt creaks. It is the only thing holding me in place on the back seat. "Is the car OK?" asks Anne Crauser, our driver, audibly shaken. "Don't worry," replies Greg Simkins, conservation manager of the Dubai Desert Conservation Reserve (DDCR), and our guide for the day. "We are driving well within the operational limits of the vehicle." I begin to wonder about my own operational limits, but there is simply too much else to see and learn for anybody in the car to dwell on the incident. I have joined a group of six international "voluntourists", each of whom has paid £980 (Dh5,650) for the privilege, on the first UAE project organised by Biosphere Expeditions, a UK-based not-for-profit company that organises international conservation holidays. They provide cash-rich, time-poor "voluntourists" with the opportunity to "give something back" by contributing their cash, time, and labour toward serious scientific research in the field. My group has come to the DDCR to help observe three of Arabia's most endangered desert species: Gordon's wildcat, the Arabian oryx, and Macqueen's Bustard. For the past few weeks, a steady stream of emails has been populating my inbox. These outline the logistical nightmare of setting up a base camp in the middle of the desert and are accompanied by a dizzying array of manuals, work schedules, data entry sheets and a dossier that includes sections entitled "Read this now and start getting ready" and "Get fit, kit yourself out, and do some preparatory reading". It's little wonder then that I feel neither prepared, ready nor fit by the time I arrive - late - at the expedition's initial rendezvous in Dubai's Silicon Oasis. My first meeting there, with Dr Mattias Hammer, MA (Oxford), PhD (Cambridge), Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, former paratrooper and international rower, triathlete, divemaster, mountain leader, survival skills instructor, wilderness medical officer, and founder and executive director of Biosphere Expeditions, does nothing to dispel this sense of trepidation. "You are late!" he booms. The Teutonic accent is laid on thick and the phrasing is arch. "I'm terribly sorry." I offer, weakly. "You will be," he continues, in perfect Oxbridge English and it is only as he shakes my hand that there is even the vaguest hint of a smile. I decide that now is not the time to confess that I've arrived without the sleeping bag, rucksack, walking boots or head torch that were listed as essential items of personal equipment in the expedition dossier. But only 50km later, my city-dweller angst is momentarily forgotten as we spot our first oryx within minutes of heading into the reserve. It is a strange sensation to come so close, so quickly, to the main object of our expedition and an iconic animal more normally associated with corporate identities and logos. Other Biosphere Expeditions - tracking Arabian leopards in Oman, wolves in Slovakia and snow leopards in the Siberian Altai - are known to pass for weeks without actual sightings, but here the oryx are, close enough to touch with their brilliant white hides, long, gracefully tapering horns and distinctive facial markings.