We rose for our scheduled breakfast at 830am. We were the only people staying there, so our attendance was expected. It didn’t dazzle. It was some bread and an egg dish. We then proceeded to walk around Kairouan after first hitting up an ATM. Kairouan was a bit noisy despite the lack of cars inside the walled city. There were still plenty of motorbikes to keep us on edge, and interesting smells wafted through the air.
As far as scenes from Raiders of the Lost Ark, it would have been difficult to match them as the streets have changed significantly despite it being an old medina. When the movie was filmed, it actually looked a bit more rustic and dusty. I popped in briefly to the courtyard of the Great Mosque just prior to numerous tour groups showing up. They made me wear a thobe, or traditional muslim garb. I found it a bit odd that I was the only one given this garment while all the tour groups roamed around in shorts. It was over 90º after all.
Anyway, we decided to circle back to the rug guy from yesterday, but his prices had gone up, and shipping was double the price of the rugs. Despite disappointing him by departing rug-less, he went out of his way to point out that our English was excellent for Italians. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. There weren’t really many other shops in the medina despite tour groups materializing out of nowhere. It was in stark contrast to yesterday evening, where no one could be found.
Anyway, after all that, we were ready to get in the car and head out of Kairouan. We were now headed back to Tunis, on a much shorter drive than the other days. This did not, however, prove to be all that relaxing because Tunisian drivers are incredibly bad at well . . .driving. When they aren’t drifting or driving down the middle of two lanes, they are varying their speed so much that I will fly by them while they’re on their cellphones, sleeping, clipping toenails, etc., only to find them riding me a few minutes later when they woke up and got offended for having been passed. I had some choice words. Yet despite our vehicle being Indian-made, I never honked its horn once.
We made a quick stop in Carthage to see some ruins, but they were just that…ruins. Compared to other area archaeological sites that one might find in Italy, Spain, or Greece, these were not well-organized, accessible, nor intact. The amphitheater was the easiest thing to visit, but I guess they still use it as an actual theater, so it was kind of ruined for me (ha!) by the modern-looking stage and other elements.
We ultimately ended up at La Menara Hotel in Sidi Bou Said, a nice Mediterranean-looking suburb of Tunis. Many have compared this area to the Greek islands, but while the color scheme is similar, the architecture and design is different and uniquely Tunisian. In fact, I had plotted out a spot called Dar El Ennabi, a house built in the late 18th century and preserved to showcase how a traditional Tunisian house in that period would have been decorated.
It was a nice little escape from the lively cafes and shops teeming with tourists just outside. Nicole was making notes of the types of tiling that were used should she decide to take on some house projects back in Playa del Rey. The house was a bit of a maze with numerous staircases. It also offered a 360º view of the rest of the town from the top.
We eventually headed back outside to check out some shops and do our tchotchke shopping. I ended up negotiating for a couple of football jerseys (that’s soccer to you yanks) — one of them obviously being Tunisia, the other being Palestine which I thought was unique, but will also probably get me detained by Homeland Security upon return. Thanks, Kristi Noem. I was in protracted negotiations for a while in French before he found out I was American and then he was like, “Why are we speaking French?” Five minutes later someone approached me speaking Spanish telling me that he had the best shop in town. Word must have spread from the deserts of Tozeur about Brian from Madrid. It’s been a weird 24 hours with language and mistaken identities. We had pizza back at the hotel. It was better than last night’s, but we’re both eager to get some decent meals in Malta (hopefully). You just never fully know what you’re going to get in Tunisia. Last night’s margherita pizza had some weird creamy cheese and lots of red peppers and olives. That’s fine I guess, but also you know . . .not a margherita pizza. Morning flight tomorrow on Tunisair Express. Then a ferry. Then laundry. Then hopefully . . .relaxing.
passports & pepto bismol 