Pilgrimage to Marfa, Texas

Seeking spirituality in the mystical town that modern artist Donald Judd helped build. 

Sleepy Marfa, Texas: Try the sotol at the Marfa Spirit Co. (on the left) and get your caffeine fix at the Sentinel coffee shop (to the right).

On Sunday we wake to our alarms set for 7:30 a.m. We crawl out of bed, run to the bathroom, throw on clothes — no time to brush teeth or make coffee. We’re not leaving town just yet. In fact, this is one of the reasons we arrived in the first place. I draw the bedroom curtains open in a panic. Phew. Okay, we’re okay — we have time. The sky is still an indigo gradient spreading across the Davis Mountains in the distance. And of course it is: The sun doesn’t rise until 7:50 something. 

We’re headed across town to the Chinati Foundation for an annual sunrise viewing of Donald Judd’s 15 untitled works in concrete. 

A ranch horse outside of Big Bend National Park

“It’s all about the light.”

— A random mom to her child, at the Chinati Foundation

All sense of anxiety — to be on time — flees once we arrive. Folks park their cars along the main road leading to the foundation’s gates. People seem to be getting out of their cars and making their entrance in slow motion. Maybe they’re hungover from the free booze at the arena last night. Maybe they also had to skip the coffee this morning. Or maybe this place is just demanding our slow presence, asking us to be aware. 

The 15 works in concrete are actually 15 separate arrangements of concrete rectangular prisms stretching north to south in a straight one-kilometer line. There are 60 boxes in total. Each unit contains the same dimensions, 2.5 by 2.5 by 5 meters, and is built with concrete slabs 25 centimeters thick. Each work plays with shape and light — some with units arranged into triangles and others into rectangular patterns; some with three in a group, others with six. Throughout the works, the individual units showcase variety. Some are completely closed boxes and others allow light and air to permeate: sometimes on the long sides, sometimes on the short ends. 

The light changes everything when viewing Donald Judd’s untitled concrete works in Marfa, Texas.

There’s a stillness in the air this morning. Not creepy or eerie. Just still. Calm. As we descend the path leading to the sculptures — every step leaving new, prickly grass burs stuck to our boots — I can tell the sun has broken above the horizon. I can’t see it behind the pony wall of clouds, but I know it. The once-indigo sky is getting brighter and lighter by the moment. Fog in the distance is becoming more obvious and the dew on the desert grass is catching the light. 

Judd’s works, finished in 1984, can be found on a former military compound.

Once we get down to the long line of concrete boxes, I know I want us to walk south. There’s a small hill at the end. It’s the only place on campus where you can see all 15 works at once. On a mission, in a race against time — I wasn’t sure how quickly the sun would rise above the clouds — we led the march atop the hill. And then we just stood there. Watching other observers and observing ourselves. Resting. Waiting. I wanted this perspective for when the light rose above the clouds and spilled out onto the land and through the sculptures. 

The gorgeous scenery in nearby Big Bend National Park

Donald Judd’s Mission and My Personal Pilgrimage 

For a long time I’ve struggled with what it means for something to be spiritual or to be a spiritual person. I’ve identified as nonreligious since my early 20s, shortly after coming out. I think growing up in an evangelical family made me believe that anything spiritual was inherently related to God. And when I left the Southern Baptist church, I had no intention of going back or being associated with religion ever again. I didn’t want to talk about spirituality, much less think about it — it was all tied up in terrible church experiences.

Though, the first time I watched the sun creep above the horizon, stretch its golden light across the surfaces of the Judd pieces and pour a warm glow throughout the Texas desert, it clicked. I thought, “This is spiritual.”

The entrance to the Chinati Foundation’s John Chamberlain Building

Throughout his career, Judd was interested in ideals of autonomy (a key principle of minimalism), both for the artist and for the artist’s works, hence his anti-museum philosophy and developing this middle-of-nowhere campus for creating and showing his work and that of his contemporaries. For the sculptures, though, a driving concept was his interest in space — how an object takes up and contains space and how an object can be permanent and site-specific. Or as Judd put it, he was interested in “specific objects.” I interpret “specific” to mean both mathematical but also unique to the space in which the object resides.

All of Judd’s sculptures demand your awareness of the space around them, either through scale, texture, color, reflective qualities, placement or some mixture of attributes. 

I’m so drawn to the concrete works because they practically beg you to fall in love with the light and land around them. The Brutalist forms cast geometric shadows, sharp lines amid desert grasses, prickly Texas dirt and a soft view of the Davis Mountains on the horizon. It’s an emotional juxtaposition asking you to consider yourself against the land, by way of the art itself. It’s a manmade proposition with an unavoidable spiritual consequence. 

Inflection Point by Darren Almond (2022) frames the entrance to the Hetzler Marfa gallery property.

If you get the opportunity to visit Marfa, here are tips from someone who has visited five times since 2015.

4 Tips to Get the Most Out of Marfa

1. Get the full Judd experience.

Some people are drawn to Marfa by the quirky allure of a small art town in the middle of nowhere, or by the iconic Prada Marfa installation (26 miles outside of town, LOL), or by the rentable bohemian trailers and yurts of El Cosmico. And many of them have no clue about the Chinati Foundation or who Donald Judd was. It’s sad not just because they’re missing out on a key contribution to modern art history, but also because without Judd’s arrival, Marfa would likely still be in collapse after Fort D.A. Russell was decommissioned in 1949 (the main site of Judd’s campus).

The Judd Foundation

I love visiting Marfa during the annual Chinati Weekend, when the foundation opens its doors to the public for self-guided tours, and the town’s shops and galleries hold special hours for the influx of visitors. 

Outside of that early October weekend, I do recommend visiting when Chinati hosts a sunrise or sunset viewing and also making an appointment for a full collection tour (a four-and-a-half-hour experience).

Caleb’s husband, Brennan, reading the exhibition guide at Ballroom Marfa gallery during Chinati Weekend Open House in 2022

The Judd Foundation — the organization charged with preserving Judd’s living and working spaces, libraries and archives in NYC and Marfa — also provides rich tours of the artist’s other sites throughout town.  

Slow down and forgo your expectations. You’re on Marfa time.

2. Know that Marfa operates on Marfa time, and the town is always changing.

Planning for trips is not in my nature. I hate it. But your trip to Marfa needs planning. For one, there is a limited number of places to eat, drink and stay (see also: gentrification in Marfa). Second, that list of places is always changing. If you read a list of things to do from this year, I can guarantee it will be outdated in less than 12 months. And finally, a business’ hours of operation are far from predictable. We passed a bookshop with a posted sign reading, “Hours: We Give Up! Check: FB, IG and Marfa Group” (a private forum on Facebook). That’s the vibe everywhere — don’t trust Google, or even a business’ website. Check their social.

Sunrise in Marfa, Texas, from Caleb and Brennan’s Airbnb

3. Dress for the desert.

Think of those early fall days when you’re excited to wear layers. Because that’s what you’ll need: layers. Hot days and cool nights, because desert. Buy your cowboy hat before you visit. They’re cheaper outside of town. And consider making the two-hour drive south to Big Bend National Park. If you go, be prepared for a hike, literally.  

Horses seen on a run just west of town

4. Realize that getting there is a beautiful trek. 

Jenny Moore, Chinati’s former director, said, “You can get from New York to Paris, seated and eating dinner, faster than you can get from New York to Marfa. So, you got to make the commitment to come here.” That’s the truth. The two closest major airports, El Paso and Midland-Odessa, are each about a three-hour drive north. Whether you fly into El Paso or make the six-and-a-half-hour drive from Austin, Interstate 10 is bound to be on your route, taking you through the Chihuahuan Desert. Take it all in: the grasslands, the basins and plateaus; and watch the sky reach from one end of the Earth to the other. –Caleb Fox

Families playing by the Rio Grande river at Big Bend National Park

One of Caleb’s favorite desert plants, the ocotillo, at Big Bend National Park

 

8 Reasons to Visit Marsa Alam, the Hot, New Egypt Beach Destination

Much more laidback than Hurghada and Sharm el-Sheikh, Marsa Alam offers pristine sea life for scuba divers and snorkelers, European-style service, desert excursions and nearby Wadi El Gemal National Park. And, of course, there are the dugong sea cows.

Not too long ago, Marsa Alam, Egypt was known only as a hidden gem for divers. The secret’s getting out — and the area is rapidly developing as a more laidback alternative to the northern Red Sea beach party destinations.

Home to one of the oldest ancient civilizations in the world, Egypt is a mysterious and fascinating travel destination that should be on your radar. However, the pyramids, temples and tombs are only the beginning — it's also a beach destination bordering both the Mediterranean and Red Seas. Located on the western shore of the Red Sea, the town of Marsa Alam offers a less-crowded alternative to Sharm el-Sheikh and Hurghada.  

Not long ago, Marsa Alam was a small fishing village whose only tourists were avid in-the-know scuba divers. In recent years, though, it has grown into a promising European-style resort destination. Almost directly east of Edfu on the Red Sea, it’s farther south than most other beach towns in Egypt. 

There’s a small international airport that services Marsa Alam, though it’s actually an hour or so north, in Port Ghalib. Whether you’re looking to relax and enjoy pristine sand beaches, high-quality luxury accommodations, desert trekking, or exploring the abundant sea life, there’s something for everyone here. 

Another gorgeous sunrise at Marsa Alam — which you’ll be up to see since you weren’t partying till the wee hours at the club

8 Reasons Why Marsa Alam Is Becoming a Hot Travel Destination

More and more tourists are skipping Cairo and heading to the beach resorts of Hurghada and Sharm el-Sheikh. However, Marsa Alam is one of the newest destinations and is quickly rising in popularity. Here’s why you should consider this up-and-coming hotspot in Egypt. 

This part of the Red Sea isn’t yet crowded or polluted — and the aquatic life is stunning.

1.   An untouched underwater world

Thanks in large part to its remote location, the underwater world of Marsa Alam is more wild and currently less affected by tourism — a real paradise for divers and snorkelers.

Who doesn’t love dugongs, this area’s version of the manatee?

Schools of exotic fish, vibrant coral reefs, sea turtles, dolphins and dugong sea cows can all be found in this part of the Red Sea. And if you’re not a fan of snorkeling or diving, there’s always the option of booking a glass-bottom boat excursion to enjoy the wonders of this enchanting underwater world.

First and foremost, Marsa Alam is a beach destination, where you can relax on the sand, swim, snorkel and scuba dive.

2.   Gorgeous beaches

The beach stretches for over 30 miles (50 kilometers). Almost every hotel has its white sand beach — a great place to admire the sunrise. 

And because Marsa Alam isn’t as crowded as Hurghada or Sharm el-Sheikh, it’s a good option for families with children. There’s a calmness to this region for those who want the opportunity to be alone with nature.

The Lazuli Hotel in Marsa Alam is just one of many luxury resorts popping up in the area.

3.   High-quality service

Tourists here mainly hail from Germany, Poland, Austria and the Czech Republic, giving Marsa Alam a European feel. In fact, unlike other resort destinations in Egypt, prices are in euros. And for those of you who have experienced bad service elsewhere in Egypt, you shouldn’t find it in Marsa Alam. 

It is also worth noting that, unlike other beach hotspots, vendors and travel services representatives aren’t as pushy here. 

Even the winter isn’t too cold in Marsa Alam, and most beaches are protected from the infamous Egyptian winds.

4.   Good weather

Because Marsa Alam is farther south than other beach resorts, the enviable climate is warmer, especially in winter, when the temperature averagess between 60 and 84 degrees Fahrenheit — making it a comfortable holiday destination all year round. Also, most hotels have bays that are protected from the infamously strong Egyptian winds. 

Explore the ancient Roman ruins at Wadi El Gemal National Park.

5.   Excursions and activities

Marsa Alam is a place where you can swim for hours, ride an ATV in the desert next to the sea, and visit nature reserves and national parks. 

Wadi El Gemal National Park (Valley of the Camels) is a must-do day trip just 28 miles (45 kilometers) to the south of Marsa Alam. It’s the third largest park in the East Arabian Desert, consisting of 1,840 square miles of land and 810 square miles of marine life. Here you have the opportunity to observe rare birds and animals as well as wander among the ruins of temples and other buildings that date back to Ancient Rome!  This area was known as the Emerald Mountains and supplied the empire with green beryl gemstones.  

Take a day trip to marvel at the natural sculptures in White Desert National Park.

6.   Awesome deserts

If you want a break from the beach, then a trip to the Sahara el Beyda is a great option, with its stunning scale and boundless space. The surreal chalk-white landscape, punctuated by natural sculpture shaped by the harsh desert winds, is now a protectorate known as White Desert National Park. 

Who says Marsa Alam has to be relaxing all the time? Hop on an ATV and go for a ride in the dunes of the nearby desert.

To me, the desert represents freedom. Don’t worry about it getting too hot — it’s particularly pleasant even in the spring. Go for a ride on a quad bike or jeep, ending with a trip to the closed nature reserve beach to look for giant shells and pieces of coral. The sand here rivals that of the Maldives in its whiteness.

The Iberotel Costa Mares is but one of several five-star hotels in the Marsa Alam area.

7.   New world-class hotels and resorts 

So many four- and five-star hotels to choose from! They stretch along the coast in either direction from Marsala Alam. Yes, they are right on the beach — but, at the same time, there is a lot of greenery here. The staff will set you up with sports, wellness treatments and other activities. 

8.   Tourist infrastructure

Pharmacies, shops, bars and restaurants are popping up all over town. You can also head to neighboring Port Ghalib, about an hour away, to eat at one of the restaurants there.

Marsa Alam, where the desert meets the Red Sea

Oh-So-Chill Marsala Alam 

Compared to other popular resorts in Egypt, Marsa Alam is much more relaxed. This is an opportunity to experience amazing beaches and sea life away from noisy tourists and discos. But, like many other on-the-rise destinations, it might not be long before Marsa Alam becomes overcrowded. I recommend going sooner than later. –Isabelle Jordan

 

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Also in the area

Edfu is a little over three hours away, directly west.

The Temple of Horus at Edfu

Kom Ombo Temple and the Crocodile Museum

Sofitel Legend Old Cataract Hotel Aswan

Abu Simbel

Overnight in the Sahara Desert

No trip to Morocco is complete without a camel ride to a Berber camp at Erg Chigaga. 

The tents are spacious and have carpets lining the walls to keep the warmth in.

There are some adventures that offer a one-of-a-kind experience that simply can’t be passed over. For Wally and me, an overnight at a Berber camp in the middle of the Sahara Desert fell into this category.

Besides, the road trip from Marrakech takes you to some amazing stopovers, including Atlas Studios and Aït Benhaddou. 

“The camel was wide-eyed with fear or fury, rearing its head and making terrible Chewbacca-like warbles. 

“Nous avons peur!” Wally exclaimed, which translates to “We are scared!””

Look how happy being in the beautiful and vast Sahara made Duke, Wally and Vanessa!

On the Road Again

After spending the night in Ouarzazate, Wally, Vanessa and I set out with our driver, Barak, to Erg Chigaga. Prior to our trip, we had debated at length whether to set off for the desert from Erg Chebbi or Erg Chigaga, and settled upon the latter — perhaps just because it sounded a bit like Chicago.

The landscape beyond Ouarzazate is covered with scrub and jagged rocks. Hillsides are mostly barren, covered with loose-looking boulders and thorny bushes. The rock color shifts from mountain to mountain — red ochre at first, then a sulfurous basalt green and finally a deep coal black. The large angular red rocks of the Anti-Atlas range jut out in a staccato formation like massive fallen Jenga blocks littering the mountainsides.

Unfortunately, even remote places like the Sahara aren’t immune to pollution. Disposable plastic bags of blue, faded rose, green, pale lavender and yellow littered the landscape like deflated balloons.

The Sahara isn’t an immediate vast expanse of sand — the first hour or so of our camel ride was over semi-rocky terrain with green outcroppings here and there.

Draa Valley: It’s a Date

We passed through Zagora, the last major town, 60 miles outside of the small rural outpost of M’hamid El Ghizlane, our departure point for our desert adventure. 

Zagora is located in the fertile Draa River Valley and was originally known as Tazagourt, the singular of the plural Tizigirt, Berber for Twin Peaks, referring to the mountains that flank the village. A sea of lush green date palms lined the road, seeming to stretch endlessly. Since they happened to be in season, they were heavy with ripening fruit. Dates are a big agricultural business in Zagora and are sold roadside, in local shops and in the markets of Marrakech. I regret that we didn’t stop and try some.

We purchased bottles of water at a small shop while a little boy with a Spider-Man backpack watched us curiously from an alley across the street.

Upon arrival in M’hamid, we were a bit shocked when we pulled into a dusty parking lot that was literally across the street from the desert. The three of us decided to use the restroom before heading out. It was the foulest bathroom I’ve ever been in, and the stench haunts me to this day. 

Camels aren’t the most pleasant creature to ride upon.

Zou Zou le Fou Fou: The Camel From Hell

Something wasn’t right. As we were queuing up to be paired with the camels we would be riding out to the encampment in the middle of the Sahara, one was noticeably smaller than the others. Crouching on all fours, the camel’s front right leg was folded up and bound with what looked like an Ace bandage. The animal was wide-eyed with fear or fury, rearing its head and making terrible Chewbacca-like warbles. 

Barak presented the camels with a flourish. We all took a step backward simultaneously, staring at him, wide-eyed. Wally, who can speak French, asked if there was another camel we could ride instead of the bucking bronco. Barak asked the handlers, then shook his head no.

“Nous avons peur!” Wally exclaimed, which translates to “We are scared!”

Barak could see the terror in our eyes but tried to assure us that Zou Zou, for that was the camel’s name, would be perfectly safe. He explained that she was young and her leg was tied up like that because that’s how they train camels to kneel for passengers to climb on top of them.

Wally muttered that the camel’s name should instead be Fou Fou, a play upon the French word for “crazy.” 

After we all stood there, staring in horror at the thrashing, spitting Zou Zou, Vanessa bravely volunteered to ride her. We thanked her profusely, and she shrugged and said she figured she was the lightest.

Camels spit and eat shit, and riding them is a bit like being on a slow-mo mechanical bull.

Wally rode Mujeres, an ironically named male camel (it’s the word for “women” in Spanish). Mujeres enjoyed stopping to eat Zou Zou’s dung nuggets en route to the camp, which was funny, disgusting and annoying all at once. My camel’s name was Mimoun. He was mostly well behaved, aside from periodically making a series of unpleasant gurgles.

All aboard the camel train! We caravan out to the middle of the Sahara.

Camel Ride 

The camels were tethered together and led by a guide on foot. We had an hour-and-a-half camel ride out to our encampment. There’s a saddle of sorts, covered with a doormat-sized rug and a pair of handles not unlike those found on a bicycle. 

Guidebooks tend to gloss over the fact that a camel’s awkward gait makes for a bumpy ride. It’s basically like riding a mechanical bull.

Our guide whipped out his cell phone and chatted away, which took us out of the moment. “Who knew they’d get better reception in the middle of the desert than in some parts of Chicago?” Wally quipped.

Vanessa takes a selfie while camelback.

Guidebooks also neglect to mention that the desert isn’t all drifting dunes. We expected the desert to start with a dramatic line of sand like you’d see in a cartoon. But the first leg of our journey into the Sahara was rocky and punctuated by gnarled outcrops of mastic and cypress trees. 

It wasn’t until we got closer to camp that the foliage disappeared, the sand turned an intense orange, and the ergs, or sand dunes, emerged. 

Duke explores our Berber encampment.

Berber Camp

The camp consisted of several tents whose interiors were covered with blankets. Upon arrival, we were served what locals love to call “Berber whiskey” but is disappointedly mint tea, a sign of hospitality. It was all a bit surreal being surrounded by nothing but dunes and knowing that we were halfway to the border of Algeria, which was undergoing some political unrest at the time. 

Wally got up early to climb a dune for a moment of zen.

There was a tent for eating and separate tents for sleeping. Our desert companions included a large group of Dutch travelers. They tittered as they asked our guides if they had a magic carpet, could charm snakes or summon genies. (Wally and I, by contrast, know that jinn are no laughing matter. In fact, we blamed them for our camera having malfunctioned, causing us to lose most of our photos of the trip. Once again, shoutout to Vanessa for sharing some of her photos with us.)

Vanessa and Wally hanging out at camp. There’s not a lot to do except admire the view — and experience traditional Berber music around a bonfire at night.

We arrived at camp just as the sun was setting. The sky changed from pink to amber to a deep blue before darkening to an intense black as soon as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. I let my mind wander and hummed a few bars of “Tea in the Sahara,” a song by the British band the Police, inspired by Paul Bowles’ bleak novel The Sheltering Sky. 

Vanessa in our tent

Duke and Wally lounge in the tent, glad they didn’t have to share it with any of the boisterous Dutch travelers.

The stars were absolutely incredible and the three of us laid down on the sand outside of our tent to look up at the night sky, feeling utterly small and at peace. After a while, we joined the group and sat around a bonfire, listening to our hosts intensely play drums and sing ritual Berber music. 

The sand in the Sahara blazes a bright orange.

You’ve probably heard that while deserts can be scorching hot during the day, they get to be surprisingly cold at night. We awoke the next morning and put on our sweaters and scarves. Much to Wally’s relief, no scorpions had crawled into his boots.

Wally and Duke were glad they took a couple of days to travel to the Sahara.

The beauty of the sunrise was amazing — it’s not every day that you begin by leaving a tent to climb a sand dune in the Sahara Desert. The sunlight made the ochre grains of sand glow, and we sat there for a bit in a meditative state. It almost seemed disrespectful to break the silence with our voices.

As we rode our camels back to Erg Chigaga, we began to feel the effects of the previous day’s trek. As mentioned, camels are not comfortable rides. With their arched backs and their lurching around, shifting me almost comically sideways, I found myself tightly gripping with my legs. After our ride, all three of us had a piercing pain right in the taint, which Wally coined “camel crotch.”

Obligatory cameltoe pic

We would have liked to spend more time in the desert, but we had to get on the road for the long journey back to Marrakech. The trip was about eight hours, returning through the treacherous turns of the Atlas Mountains. As we neared Marrakech, I noticed storm clouds on the horizon. –Duke