As we sprinted across Moammar Gadhafi's front lawn, we had to swerve to avoid the camels.
It was a bizarre obstacle course: dozens of the ungainly creatures, sitting standing, and yes, fornicating.
It was December, 2004. Our media bus holding a dozen journalists, cameramen and photographers had been delayed after taking a wrong turn on the way in from the Tripoli Airport. Then-prime minister Paul Martin was already in the Bedouin tent inside the compound that the Libyan leader still calls home. If we didn't hustle, we'd miss the one photo-op: a brief handshake.
More after the jump....