We arrive in Mauritania’s capital — a city of wind, dunes, and ocean light.
At the airport, our team gathers — scientists, filmmakers, and seekers of the lost world. After checking into the hotel, we explore the lively markets of Nouakchott, where spices, dates, and desert salt mingle in the air.
This is where the modern world fades and the old Sahara begins.
Evening briefing: introduction to the route, maps, and the hypothesis of the Atlantis-Richat connection.
Overnight in Nouakchott.

We drive north into the endless desert. The road soon dissolves into dunes and stone.
Hidden between cliffs lies Terjit Oasis — a paradise of palm trees, warm springs, and ancient wells. We rest in the shade and discuss how, thousands of years ago, this region might have been fertile — not a desert, but the land of rivers described by Plato.
By sunset we reach the wide, straight valley known locally as Plato’s Channel, a natural corridor cutting across the Adrar plateau.
Its alignment with satellite images of ancient waterways makes it one of the most intriguing sites in the entire region.
Campfire under the stars, night in tents.

The ancient caravan town of Ouadane rises from the cliffs like a mirage of stone. Once a major trading post for gold and salt caravans, today it stands silent — its labyrinthine alleys carved by wind and time.

Here the past and present coexist: the city is divided into two parts — the abandoned ruins of the old town and the living quarters of the new. Walking between them feels like crossing the line between centuries.

Perched high on a rocky plateau about 40 kilometers from the Richat Structure, Ouadane overlooks the vast plain that stretches toward the horizon. Its elevated position mirrors Plato’s description of Atlantis — a city built upon a height, surrounded by fertile lands and open to the sea beyond.

We explore the ruins, the small local museum, and panoramic viewpoints over the endless desert.
Evening discussion on Atlantean topography: how the landscape of Ouadane — mountains to the north, a plain to the south — perfectly reflects the proportions described in Plato’s dialogues.
Overnight in a guesthouse built from local stone.

We head east toward the heart of the mystery — the Richat Structure, a 40-kilometer-wide circular formation visible even from space.
Known as “The Eye of the Sahara,” it reveals perfect concentric rings, colored layers of rock — white, black, and red — just as Plato described for Atlantis.
We set up camp near the inner ring, launch drones, and record measurements.
At sunset, the wind stills, and the desert glows gold. Many in our team say it feels like standing at the center of a lost world.
Overnight in tents or return to Ouadane.

We drive deeper south to El Beyedh, a remote archaeological zone on the edge of the great dunes.
Here, amid stone walls built by hand, stands a small Desert Museum — created not by an institution, but by one remarkable local man who spent years collecting artifacts from the surrounding sands.
His private collection tells the story of the Sahara before it became a desert — a time of rivers, animals, and people who left their mark in stone.

We visit his museum and listen to his stories about vanished settlements and ancient migrations that followed a great flood — echoes that resonate with humanity’s oldest myths.

Around El Beyedh, rock engravings spread across the nearby cliffs, depicting elephants, hunters, and mysterious symbols.
Even underfoot, the desert reveals its memory — Neolithic flint tools and pottery fragments lie scattered in the sand, reminders that this was once a living land.

We help document the site and photograph the museum’s evolving stone architecture — a living archive of time itself.
Night in tents or in a simple desert “hotel” — quiet, timeless, and surreal.

The road westward cuts across bare plateaus and sudden cliffs, where the desert stretches into infinity.
We reach Bir Ziri Fort, an abandoned French outpost half-buried in sand — the last echo of colonial presence in this vast emptiness. Its weathered ramparts still face the wind, guarding silence instead of soldiers.

Continuing along the old caravan route, we arrive at El Galaylya Fort, another forgotten French stronghold that once marked the way toward the mysterious Canal of Atlantis.
Between these two ruins, the landscape grows wilder — dunes merge with sculpted rocks, and the horizon begins to shimmer with heat and legend.

By evening we reach the foot of the monumental Tikika Cliff, rising like a natural wall at the edge of the world.
We set up camp here, where the sandstone burns crimson in the sunset and the night sky unveils millions of stars — one of the clearest heavens in all of Africa.

Around the fire, the team reflects: could these forgotten routes and forts have once protected a waterway — a lost Atlantean harbor linking the desert to the sea?
The stillness answers only with the sound of the wind.

Overnight in tents beneath the Tikika Cliff.

We set out at dawn toward one of the most enigmatic landmarks of the entire Sahara — the Canal of Atlantis.
A perfectly straight line cuts through the desert for more than a 10 kilometers, visible on satellite maps yet still unexplained by modern geology.
Was it a natural fracture, an ancient riverbed, or the remnant of an engineered waterway — the one Plato described as “cut straight through the plain to the sea”?

As we follow its course, the sand shifts between tones of gold and white, exposing layers of time itself. Along the route, we discover prehistoric petroglyphs of elephants, giraffes, and fish, carved thousands of years ago when this region was lush and filled with water.
Their presence tells a forgotten story — that this arid land was once part of a living ecosystem, perhaps even the fertile realm described in the legend of Atlantis.

By sunset, we descend toward the southern route back to Ouadane, crossing dry valleys that may once have carried the life-giving rivers of an ancient world.
The desert wind hums softly across the stones, as if echoing through the millennia.
Overnight in a guesthouse.

After days in the desert, we rest among the terraces of Ouadane.
Optional visits to the fortress, museum, or market; tea with local families; or quiet time to write and process your discoveries.
Evening farewell dinner — stories, laughter, and the desert wind whispering through the ruins.

Morning drive back to the coast. Depending on flight schedules, we’ll stop by the Nouakchott fish market, where wooden boats line the shore and the Atlantic meets the Sahara.
For many travelers, it’s a moment of reflection — we’ve crossed one of the most remote regions on Earth, following traces of Atlantis not as fantasy, but as living archaeology.
Departure home — or onward, for those who feel the story isn’t finished.