As the bright orange, open-top Land Rover I'm travelling in hurtles across the moon-like terrain of the desert, my sleep-deprived body seems to be absorbing every contour of the uneven ground. The straps of my music-laden backpack are digging into my shoulders. My hands are aching from gripping the cold steel of the vehicle's roll bar so tightly.

In front of me, but still some distance away, I can see flames roaring out of what looks like two giant steel flowers silhouetted against the night sky. I can hear the faint din of people cheering and the muffled thump of music and gradually as we draw closer I can see flickering specks of brightly coloured lights and start to make out the shapes of an assortment of tents and vehicles.

At last the Land Rover comes to a halt allowing me to flip the tailgate down and leap out the back. I head towards a stage swarming with people dressed in all sorts of crazy outfits; animals, aliens, fairies and others who wear nothing at all. Although I've been here before and know it's very real, AfrikaBurn's temporary town of Tankwa, deep in South Africa's Karoo desert, seems more like a surreal mirage.

Now into its 5th year, AfrikaBurn is the official African outpost of the world-famous Burning Man, the art and music event based on radical self expression and self-reliance held annually in the Black Rock Desert of Nevada, US. It's smaller than its American counterpart, attracting a temporary community of 5,000, compared with Burning Man's 50,000, but for me, it's one of the greatest parties on earth. It follows the same principles as its American counterpart, so once there, no money changes hands, aside from the price of your ticket, with the bulk of this revenue going towards grants to fund the many mind-bending art installations, along with a basic infrastructure of on site medics, toilets etc. The rest of your needs are up to you or your fellow burners to provide for each other. And at the end of the five-day party, everything is meticulously packed up and taken away leaving no trace that this event ever existed.

I went to AfrikaBurn 2011 to DJ but some of my favourite moments were the chill-out times between sets when we gathered under our camp's Bedouin tent to avoid the Karoo desert's blazing midday heat. We acted as a sort of drop-in shelter for paper umbrella wielding hippies and butch looking South African guys in women's dresses and mirror ball earrings, desperate to get out of the sun to mentally re-group.

During one of these afternoons I decided to start playing records on our primitive sound system and, before I knew it, someone had brought over a popcorn machine and a smoothie maker and our camp was awash with beanbags and blankets. In a mild act of patriotism to mark events that were happening back home, I even handed out some Royal Wedding Shortbreads that I had brought from the UK. They were a huge hit. My restaurant-owning friend Daniel set up a Braai (BBQ to you and me) and started handing out gourmet food. Needless to say, we were pretty popular that day as a polite queue of dishevelled revellers snaked their way into our camp.

One of the brilliant things about this festival is discovering the stories behind the people you meet. Who would have thought that the naked guy riding a bike was the CEO of a multi-million dollar company who spends the other 51 weeks of the year in a suit and tie? One of the best DJs I heard out there, DJ Ndima, was from Langa, a township near Cape Town and was part of the music group Abavuki which translates as "Wake up! Early birds". Then there's Richard, who spends most of his year running his iced tea company from his farm where he's been producing organically certified rooibos tea for the past 20 years.

The friendships you make at AfrikaBurn are strengthened through the shared experience of existing so harmoniously in such a harsh environment. Operating in scorching daytime temperatures and freezing desert nights, while carefully rationing food and water helps to create lifelong bonds. It's not for the faint-hearted but the rewards are worth it. Some stumble at the first hurdle, such as the 120km desert farm track that leads you into this isolated spot which, as the signs on the road tell you at intervals, eats tyres for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Our convoy of five trucks and three trailers had made it until about lunchtime when we were forced to repair three flat tyres on the side of a barren road in a howling dusty wind. It was like something out of an aftershave commercial, minus the clean clothes though, at that point we still smelt pretty good. Some people took advantage of the temporary air-strip, allowing them to make the one-hour flight from Cape Town to the Playa in a very small plane.

So much has been written and filmed about "Burns" events that when arriving for the first time, they look and sound just as you'd imagined. However, nothing can prepare you for how being at a Burn actually makes you feel. Having seen the detritus at the end of countless UK festivals, it's incredible to look around at the end of AfrikaBurn and see no trace that Tankwa Town ever existed. Watching the convoy of vehicles snake its way out of the desert it struck me that although Tankwa Town is only temporary, the impression it makes on people is permanent.

Follow Ali B on Twtter @DJ_Ali_B. airrecordings.com. This year's AfrikaBurn takes place from 25-30 April. Check the website for details of next year's event, afrikaburn.com