Tunisian Desert Trip

Tunisia is a trip.  It is simultaneously 2010 (cell phones, wi-fi [pronounced wee-fee], the latest Mercedes Benz models) and 1910 (breads cooked in ovens fired by long thin olive twigs hauled in a huge bundle on the back of a robed man; donkey-drawn carts negotiating traffic circles and hugging the shoulder on the highway; the butcher hacking up hunks of meat on a huge block so battered and worn that you couldn’t balance a beer bottle anywhere on its surface).  The gent below, wearing a  Berber hooded robe while taking a cell call, captures the chronological mashup of Tunisia.

Karen treated us to a mind-blowing 4-day Tunisian tour.  Our super chauffeur (Salem) picked us up shortly after 7am last Saturday, in a new Land Cruiser. (Libby [whom locals assume is named in honour of neighbouring Libya] stayed home with Mabrouka, Karen’s housekeeper, who moved in for the duration.)  A detailed recitation of our adventures would take hours, but here are a few highlights.

Our first stop (aside from a very earthy highway rest area) was El Jem, site of the third largest Roman colosseum.  It is indeed colossal and remarkable.  It is easy to imagine the roar and sweat of the crowds (estimated seating capacity of 30,000) as wild African animals were goaded into fighting one another and gladiators battled sword to sword.  We were able to walk beneath the stadium to see where the contestants awaited their turns.  Very evocative. 

 

Later we sat at an outdoor café hard by the colosseum and had mint tea and “makroud” date cookies made by the proprietor’s mother (he said his wife is too lazy to make them; he also gave Paige the first of several “desert roses” and other trinkets that she acquired gratis over the trip.  A desert rose is a roseate crystalline mineral formation found in the desert.

 

The next stop was an extraordinary museum of mosaics.  There was a lovely museum building with dozens of large mosaics, recovered from the floors of Roman ruins, on the walls.  Out back were those self-same ruins, many of which still featuring yet-to-be-recovered mosaics exposed to all weathers.  Next door another recovering project was ongoing, with the aim of rebuilding/replicating a Roman villa that had stood nearby the remains of which were discovered by constructions workers a few years ago.  The mosaic expert gave us an extraordinarily animated tour for a few-dinar tip.

That night we stayed in a faux troglodyte hotel.  Some Berbers lived in troglodyte homes built into sandstone caves.  Our hotel rooms were built to be cavelike; the effect was heightened to a remarkable degree by the electricity going out in the night.  DARK.  By 7, when we rose, it was no longer truly pitch dark in the bathroom (which had a window), but still it was the darkest shower I recall ever taking.  

Throughout Day 2 we visited a number of real troglodyte homes.  The region is dotted with such homes, which characteristically include a tent outside a cave-like entrance that gives on to an enclosed sandstone courtyard with a number of cave-rooms surrounding the courtyard.  Some are still occupied.  In the one shown below, there was a child asleep in each of two rooms, and an older woman gave each of us a turn getting a feel for how to grind barley.

We also visited the remains of several Berber villages, which are remarkably Gaudi.  Surely Guadi must have seen these and been inspired by them.  They also inspired George Lukas, who staged portions of several of the Star Wars films in such villages (and also built a faux Berber/alien village as a set).

The largest of the Berber villages that we visited was built into and around a hill.  We visited a small museum there, where the handsome and intense curator, Mongi, gave us a vivid introduction to aspects of Berber culture.  The village was a defensive stronghold, with numerous clever features (e.g., a complex maze of smoke tunnels interconnecting every kitchen, so that the smoke from the entire village first travelled horizontally, depositing much of its particulate matter along the way before being vented to the air some distance away; a tunnel that allowed women to fetch water from distant wells without being seen leaving or entering the village; sprial street layouts that slowed the progress of any aggressor and afforded numerous defensive positions).  Mongi also talked about how Berbers had combined aspects of numerous religions into their belief systems and art, and most especially about the technical, aesthetic, and symbolic sophistication of their textiles.




Day 3, we got up, had a quick breakfast in the hotel, then drove directly to camel lot.  There we were provided with robes and head scarves and within minutes were astride dromedaries.  Our guides led us out into the desert.  Technically we were still some 50 miles north of the Sahara, but it looked 100% Sahara to us.  When we were well out and away, the young Omar Sharif, dressed entirely in black and astride a black horse, rode up and posed magnificently.  By and by we all stopped and dismounted, and Omar took each of us on a horse ride in turn – Paige and Karen riding behind him bareback and getting a decent gallop as part of the ride, Moira and I being more placidly led along.  Then back on our camels (dromedaries, really, but how awkward that is to say) and back to the lot.  It was an absolute and total scream, and I’d do it again in a NY minute. 

Much later on Day 3, after visiting various sights, Salem took us offroading.  He had hitherto maintained a somewhat reserved (not to say solemn) manner, and it was delightful to hear him laugh like a lad as we screeched as he drove the big 4-wheeler up, over, and slithering down steep dunes.  A hoot!

Day 4 began with a small town market, then a 2-hr round-trip mountain excursion on a train originally built for a Bey in the 19teens.  Very beautiful and a great change of pace.  Then a whole lot of driving took us to the city of Kairouan, site of one of the most revered mosques in the world.  Not being devout, we spent almost all of our Kairouan time buying carpets and camel-leather bags.

Then back into the Cruiser and the indefatigable Salem piloted us back to Tunis.  Truly an incredible journey!