Guelb er-Richat, Adrar Region, Mauritania – From inside her thatch-roof tent, Fatima Cheikh Mohammad Bouya scans the vast, rocky landscape outside, hoping to catch sight of approaching guests, ideally travellers looking to stay the night.

The 49-year-old is custodian of one of Africa’s most striking natural landmarks, the Richat Structure, also known as the “Eye of Africa.”

A colossal circular formation measuring about 40km (25 miles) in diameter, the Richat lies in the rugged terrain of Mauritania’s Adrar Plateau, on the western edge of the Sahara. It can only be fully seen from the sky, where its domed rings resemble a vast eye, giving rise to its nickname. Some legends claim it marks the site of the lost city of Atlantis, adding to its appeal among adventurers.

It is these travellers, often arriving in groups and carrying foreign currency, that Bouya hopes to attract today. She might sell them a small stone shaped like the Richat itself, or host them overnight under the desert sky, renting out tents and serving dinner.

“This whole area is my family’s land,” Bouya said proudly in her sing-song Hassaniya Arabic, sitting on a faded red rug inside her desert camp and gesturing to a map spread before her.

She is one of hundreds of locals now benefitting from Mauritania’s slow revival as a little-known travel destination.

Stretching across a vast territory that is about 90 percent desert, Mauritania sits at the crossroads of North and West Africa. Its landscape blends the Sahara with the Atlantic coast, while its cultures reflect influences from both regions.

About 30,000 tourists used to flock here annually, but a grim episode in the country’s history stopped that flow.

The government is now stepping up marketing campaigns, with some early signs of success.

“Mauritania is having a bit of a moment in the travel world,” said Sean Connolly, a travel expert who named it his 2026 destination of the year for The Times of London, speaking to Al Jazeera.

Connolly also wrote the first English guidebook on Mauritania. The main pull for visitors, he said, is its safety.

“Mauritania is left at the top of an increasingly short list of destinations where you can freely and safely explore the Sahara,” Connolly said.

Insecurity takes its toll

Mauritanian tourism experienced a golden age in the early to mid-2000s.

During those years, visitors arrived in large numbers during the cooler months between November and February, particularly from France. Many came for the Dakar Rally, the off-road motor race that once ran from Paris through harsh desert terrain to Dakar.

But from the mid-2000s, armed groups, including Algeria-based al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) and the Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat (GSPC), began targeting areas across the country, including the capital, Nouakchott.

On Christmas Eve in 2007, AQIM fighters killed four French tourists near the western town of Aleg, in an attack that shocked the international community. The victims, members of the same family, were shot while picnicking by the roadside.

The suspects were later arrested and sentenced to death in 2010. By then, however, Mauritania had already suffered a series of attacks, including an attempted assault on the French embassy.

Tourist arrivals fell sharply. The Dakar Rally was permanently relocated to the Middle East, and charter flights that once brought French tourists directly to the Adrar region were suspended.

In response, the government strengthened its security apparatus. Elite military units were deployed to border areas, many of which were designated military zones. At the same time, authorities engaged religious leaders to preach against extremism, including in prisons holding suspected militants. Quranic schools were placed under closer scrutiny, while pathways into formal education were expanded.

More recently, the focus has shifted towards reducing rural poverty. Officials have expanded a social register of vulnerable households eligible for monthly stipends, while water, electricity, healthcare, schools and mobile networks have gradually reached more remote areas.

There have been no reported attacks since 2011.

While there are occasional claims of informal understandings between authorities and armed groups, those have not been confirmed, said Mauritanian researcher Baba Adou of the University of Florida. The collapse of security in neighbouring Mali since 2012, he noted, was favourable to Al Qaeda and ISIL (ISIS)-affiliated groups, and likely contributed to them leaving Mauritania.

But “border areas near Mali also remain prone to spillover,” Adou warned, as the situation in that country spirals further.

Officials have focused on participating in international tourism events, and inviting foreign tour agents to the country.

Tourist arrivals in Mauritania rose by 166 percent between 2018 and 2019 after visa fees were slashed from 120 to 40 euros ($139 to $46), bringing in approximately 4,000 visitors that season, according to government figures.

Some 7,000 visitors have visited this year alone, said Alioune Cheikh, who operates his own travel agency.

Numbers remain modest compared with the past, but in a country where roughly a third of the population lives in poverty, tourism has become an increasingly important source of income.

A shaky new start

Travelling through the open desert between attractions, it is difficult to imagine that this landscape once carried real danger.

For miles, only shifting dunes stretch across the horizon. Occasionally, a camel caravan passes slowly by, or a herd of lean, long-necked goats moves across the sand.

On social media, it is the Iron Ore Train that has become a viral symbol of Mauritania’s raw appeal. The 640km (400-mile) route runs daily between the inland mining town of Zouerat and the Atlantic port of Nouadhibou. Adventurers often ride its open freight cars, clinging to cargo wagons as they cross the desert.

But beyond the train, other sites are drawing visitors, particularly in the mountainous Adrar region, a landscape of canyons and oases.

At the ruins of the ancient city of Ouadane, tourists wander through stone doorways, reacting with quiet awe to the remnants of past civilisations.

“I didn’t have any expectations, actually; I wanted to go to Senegal, but it’s been a wonderful surprise,” said Martha Capa, a visitor from Belgium, speaking to Al Jazeera about her time in Mauritania.

But the 30-year-old also noted some gaps in infrastructure. There were no guards at the site, nor a ticket office. A guide had simply appeared to lead her group through the ruins.

“Mauritania is beautiful. It has a lot to offer, but maybe it would be nice if there’s a little bit more care; maybe some of the sites will be a little bit more protected,” she said.

Another visitor, Mattheo Zuchelli, 44, who helps run his family’s travel agency in Italy, said he came to Mauritania after hearing repeated accounts from other travellers. But he added that many of his clients would likely prefer smoother desert roads and higher-end accommodation, such as those found in neighbouring Morocco.

“Italians love comfort and luxury,” he said.

Travel expert Sean Connolly said it is precisely the near-pristine nature of Mauritania’s sites that makes them distinctive. Until recently, he noted, many Mauritanians lived as nomads, shaping a culture built around mobility and hospitality.

“People brought their tents with them, and if a stranger passed without a tent of his own, they would always be hosted and fed,” he said. “This code of desert hospitality means there have traditionally been almost no luxury hotels in the country.”

That is slowly beginning to change. In April, the first international hotel chain, Sheraton, opened in Nouakchott.

Back at the Richat Structure, Fatima Bouya continues to wait for arriving guests.

“I’ve been in the business since I was a kid, but we stopped due to the security issues,” she said, recalling how her father once hosted the French explorer Theodore Monod at their camp.

With a population of just 5.5 million, Mauritania is so sparsely populated that families like Bouya’s can effectively control vast stretches of land around sites such as the Richat.

Bouya said she has since restarted the business to earn a living. Sitting on a faded rug, she prepares zrig, a fermented goat’s milk drink, and brews sweet ataya tea over a small gas burner.

While visitor numbers are slowly rising, she said attracting tourists remains difficult. In the past, she said, travel agencies coordinated visits more reliably. Today, that system is looser and less predictable.

“Tourists are like property that we have to fight for now,” she said. “The last time I received guests was three nights ago when seven Italians came. But I have 100 tents stored up.”