In the Second World War he fought to liberate Abyssinia under the eccentric but charismatic Orde Wingate, and in the Special Air Service behind enemy lines in the Western Desert of north Africa.

[9] Thesiger tells of his love for a hard life in the desert, and how he got the chance to travel into the Empty Quarter (Rub al Khali) from Middle East Locust Control.

Thesiger describes how he spent five months growing used to the life of the Bedu Arabs in the region to the south of the Empty Quarter, travelling in the Sands of Ghanim and to the Hadhramaut.

On his return to Salalah (in Dhofar, Oman) a year later, he arranges to travel from south to north across the Empty Quarter with Rashid Arab help.

After resting at Salala, Thesiger travels easily to Mukalla with the Rashid, though they post sentries as there is a strong raiding party of Dahm Arabs in the area; they hear shots but see no raiders.

Thesiger goes back to Arabia hoping to cross the desert further to the west, passing near the Jebel Tuwaiq mountains (south of Riyadh) without the permission of the King, Ibn Saud, and then going northeast to Abu Dhabi.

He comments again that travel is for him a personal venture, not to collect plants or make maps; he claims that writing or talking about it tarnishes the achievement.

Thesiger goes back to Buraimi via Dubai and Abu Dhabi, and spends a quiet time visiting the oasis at Liwa and going hawking with Sheikh Zayid.

A year later, in 1949, he goes back to Buraimi hoping to explore the Jabal al Akhadar mountains, but the Imam of Oman refuses permission, and he leaves Arabia for what he realizes is the last time.

[10] One of Thesiger's biographers, Michael Asher, wrote in The Guardian that "his description of the traditional life of the Bedu, Arabian Sands (1959), [was] probably the finest book ever written about Arabia and a tribute to a world now lost forever.

"[6] The critic Michael Dirda commented that "for years I meant to read Arabian Sands ... Now that I have, I can sheepishly join the chorus of those who revere the book as one of the half dozen greatest works of modern English travel writing.

"[11] He calls the book "the austere masterpiece",[11] comparing it with Apsley Cherry-Garrard's The Worst Journey in the World, C. M. Doughty's Travels in Arabia Deserta and T. E. Lawrence's Seven Pillars of Wisdom.

Dirda contrasts this coolness with the passion in his photographs, which "make clear his love for this bleak, unforgiving terrain" or the handsome young men such as Salim bin Ghabaisha.

[11] The Telegraph called the book a "precise yet emotionally charged account of his desert journeys", adding that it "gained him a new reputation in late middle age as a writer, albeit one influenced by the romanticised prose of Lawrence and Doughty.