We arrived home late Friday afternoon and stayed up until 8:30pm in the hopes of sleeping through the night. I woke up around 2:30am with a growling stomach and a great desire to start the day. I gave in and got up at 3:00am, hoping not to wake up Mom, but discovered that she was also awake. We had coffee and then Mom unpacked. I was starving so I made soup and then watched a bit of TV. We went back to bed around 5:30am and slept until mid-morning.
Today we woke up at 6:00am, so we seem to be back to the correct sleeping schedule. I was ready for dinner as soon as I woke up, though, so it looks like it'll take a little longer to get my stomach back on track.
I was reading my blog this morning and I realized that I was very factual, which is kind of boring. So, here are some of the lighter moments and observations from the trip:
It isn't as bad as Asia, but ... driving any vehicle in Tunisia requires equal mixtures of balls and precision.
You need an advanced degree in jaywalking ... to cross Tunisian roads safely. The traffic rarely lets up so you have to get halfway across the road then wait as cars whiz by on either side for an opportunity to complete the crossing.
Tunisian wine is dreck ... but you're lucky to get it in a Muslim country. The waiters in the hotels carefully pour a bit of wine into your glass for you to sample, which is laughable because the wine always smells like industrial cleanser and tastes only marginally better.
When it's 30 degrees outside ... it's still considered winter. The "air conditioning" units in Tunisian hotels blast hot air into rooms from October to April. At the beginning of May the system is cleaned out and configured to distribute cold air. We didn't learn this until the third or fourth hotel, of course, which meant a lot of unnecessarily sweaty nights.
There are almost no public toilets in Tunisia ... so at some point it is necessary to walk into a cafe full of men and ask the owner if you can use the loo. This request is met with smirks. You understand why when you're hovering over the cracked and dirty bowl. Toilet paper is rarely available so you need to get used to drip-drying. Tunisians actually think that toilet paper is a very dirty way to clean your bottom bits and prefer to hose themselves down instead. So, cafe toilets are often very swampy.
To Tunisians, there is only one province in Canada ... Quebec. So many tourists from Quebec visit Tunisia that when you say you're Canadian, the natural response is "Ah, Quebec!"
There is a definite hawker lingo ... including the opening bid "How much for this bouche-bouche in Canada?" Don't bother asking what a bouche-bouche is, because it doesn't matter. The key objective is to get you to look at something. Don't believe a hawker who says he won't bother you and that you can look "slowly slowly". Run away from the hawker who says he won't "eat you" and makes biting motions with his hand. One of the funniest hawkers was in Hammamet. He'd been spending a little too much time with English tourists, because when I walked past his shop without looking he called me a "cheeky monkey" and then said "I can't believe my bloody eyes" in a very heavy Arabic accent.
Elevators in Tunisia don't have sensors ... so don't shove your arms or legs into a closing door. The door just closes on your limb(s) and stays closed. You have to press the up or down button again to get the door to open.
There's so much more, but these are the best bits. I wish I could record everything but unfortunately we don't have the technology for brain-blog transfers at the moment.
Until the next trip...
20.4.08
Thursday, April 17, 2008 - PARIS
We arrived in Paris around 3:30pm. We got through security with no problem, but had trouble finding the gate where we were supposed to catch a shuttle to our hotel. We did eventually find the correct gate and the shuttle arrived in due time, but the shuttle driver was obviously flustered at the prospect of picking up 16 people at one stop, not to mention loading all of their damned luggage.
We only had 30 minutes to check into the hotel and freshen up because a van was supposed to pick us up shortly and take us on a tour of Paris. Everyone made it to the lobby by the requested time and began studying maps of downtown Paris in anticipation of a night on the town.
An hour later it was clear that we'd been scammed. The van didn't show up, the tour business wasn't listed in the telephone directory, and the hotel staff said that our tour vouchers looked fake.
Cheryle, who had arranged the tour, was obviously devastated. She canvassed the group to see who wanted to go into town on their own steam for a self-guided tour. More than half said they'd do it, so she arranged for a cab.
Mom and I stayed at the hotel and enjoyed a quiet dinner in the pub. After dinner we went to our room to watch TV but the only English channel was BBC and the only subject they seemed to be covering that night was the Poop's visit to the US. So, we shut off the TV and I played a DVD on my laptop instead. Mom fell asleep halfway through the DVD. I watched a bit more but turned it off and turned in early.
The next morning we learned that the people who'd gone into Paris were scammed once again. The cab that took them into town charged EUR$125 for the trip. When Cheryle asked if the cab driver could return at 10:00pm to pick the group up and return them to the hotel, he agreed but asked for a EUR$50 deposit, which he was given.
At 10:00pm the group showed up at the designated pick-up location, but no cab. After 45 minutes of waiting in vain for the cabbie to show up, the group hailed two cabs and headed back to the hotel. Surprisingly, the cost of the two cab fares, added together, was less than the EUR$125 fare the original cabbie charged for the trip into town. Sigh.
We only had 30 minutes to check into the hotel and freshen up because a van was supposed to pick us up shortly and take us on a tour of Paris. Everyone made it to the lobby by the requested time and began studying maps of downtown Paris in anticipation of a night on the town.
An hour later it was clear that we'd been scammed. The van didn't show up, the tour business wasn't listed in the telephone directory, and the hotel staff said that our tour vouchers looked fake.
Cheryle, who had arranged the tour, was obviously devastated. She canvassed the group to see who wanted to go into town on their own steam for a self-guided tour. More than half said they'd do it, so she arranged for a cab.
Mom and I stayed at the hotel and enjoyed a quiet dinner in the pub. After dinner we went to our room to watch TV but the only English channel was BBC and the only subject they seemed to be covering that night was the Poop's visit to the US. So, we shut off the TV and I played a DVD on my laptop instead. Mom fell asleep halfway through the DVD. I watched a bit more but turned it off and turned in early.
The next morning we learned that the people who'd gone into Paris were scammed once again. The cab that took them into town charged EUR$125 for the trip. When Cheryle asked if the cab driver could return at 10:00pm to pick the group up and return them to the hotel, he agreed but asked for a EUR$50 deposit, which he was given.
At 10:00pm the group showed up at the designated pick-up location, but no cab. After 45 minutes of waiting in vain for the cabbie to show up, the group hailed two cabs and headed back to the hotel. Surprisingly, the cost of the two cab fares, added together, was less than the EUR$125 fare the original cabbie charged for the trip into town. Sigh.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008 - HAMMAMET
We tried to sleep in this morning but couldn't. After two weeks of 6:30am wake-up calls and 8:00am departures, out bodies we trained to get up and go.
After breakfast we met with the tour representative. We provided some feedback on the trip and she gave us some suggestions about how to spend our free day at the hotel, around Yasmine Hammamet, and in the town of Hammamet.
Seven of us decided to catch cabs into Hammamet to tour the medina and the harbor. It's a good thing we'd been "in country" for two weeks because the hawkers in the medina were the most aggressive we'd encountered on the trip. We ran into an English family in one of the alleys and their two girls were clearly terrified of the hawkers. We stopped to talk for a few minutes until they'd calmed down and then ran a bit of interference as they exited the alley.
I was hoping to find a silver shop that the tour representative had mentioned. We asked a local vendor to point out the shop but she took us to a relatives' shop instead. He locked us into the tiny shop, explaining that he had fake watches and could get shut down by the police if they caught him. He tried to sell us a few things but we ended up leaving without buying anything. We literally had to unlock the door ourselves to escape.
We did find the silver shop near the end of our time at the medina. It was an oasis of calm. The owner and his son/shop assistant were there watching Tunisian soap operas. They welcomed us but left us alone to shop. If we asked for a price he provided it then went back to his desk. I wanted to buy everything I saw but couldn't afford it. I ended up borrowing some dinar from Tamara so I could buy something for my sister, but left empty-handed myself.
We had lunch at a restaurant outside the medina before catching the tourist train back to Yasmine Hammamet. The train was hilarious. We were seated in the last car and it kept swinging wildly to the left and right as the driver sped through the small streets. We'd also bounce off our seats at every speed bump. There were no seat belts or safety gear which added an element of excited fear to the trip.
We kept a low profile for the rest of the afternoon. Dinner was a low-key affair because we knew we had an early departure the next day.
After breakfast we met with the tour representative. We provided some feedback on the trip and she gave us some suggestions about how to spend our free day at the hotel, around Yasmine Hammamet, and in the town of Hammamet.
Seven of us decided to catch cabs into Hammamet to tour the medina and the harbor. It's a good thing we'd been "in country" for two weeks because the hawkers in the medina were the most aggressive we'd encountered on the trip. We ran into an English family in one of the alleys and their two girls were clearly terrified of the hawkers. We stopped to talk for a few minutes until they'd calmed down and then ran a bit of interference as they exited the alley.
I was hoping to find a silver shop that the tour representative had mentioned. We asked a local vendor to point out the shop but she took us to a relatives' shop instead. He locked us into the tiny shop, explaining that he had fake watches and could get shut down by the police if they caught him. He tried to sell us a few things but we ended up leaving without buying anything. We literally had to unlock the door ourselves to escape.
We did find the silver shop near the end of our time at the medina. It was an oasis of calm. The owner and his son/shop assistant were there watching Tunisian soap operas. They welcomed us but left us alone to shop. If we asked for a price he provided it then went back to his desk. I wanted to buy everything I saw but couldn't afford it. I ended up borrowing some dinar from Tamara so I could buy something for my sister, but left empty-handed myself.
We had lunch at a restaurant outside the medina before catching the tourist train back to Yasmine Hammamet. The train was hilarious. We were seated in the last car and it kept swinging wildly to the left and right as the driver sped through the small streets. We'd also bounce off our seats at every speed bump. There were no seat belts or safety gear which added an element of excited fear to the trip.
We kept a low profile for the rest of the afternoon. Dinner was a low-key affair because we knew we had an early departure the next day.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008 - HAMMAMET
Our first stop this morning was the Roman amphitheater at El Jem. It's smaller than the Colliseum in Rome, but according to Mom it's more impressive. Parts of the amphitheater are partially restored so you can climb up to the top ramparts. You can also go underneath the amphitheater floor to see the rooms where animals and people were kept and the ramps they used to move them up to the surface for fights.
Views of the amphitheater at El Jem:
It wasn't on the itinerary but we also visited the museum of El Jem. It had the most amazing mosaics and backed onto the ruins of the old town. Like most of the museums we've visited in Tunisia, the museum at El Jem didn't contain any household or personal items recovered from the site. It's like they're not important enough to display. Either that or they were ransacked and are not available. It's sad because I always find the household and personal items the most fascinating.
From there we drove to Monastir, had lunch, and then toured the ancient fortress called the Ribat. I'd left my camera on the bus during lunch and didn't have it with me at the Ribat, which is too bad because it was really amazing. The highlight was climbing the narrow circular staircase of the watchtower to get a 360 degree view of the surrounding area.
Outside the Ribat:
We walked from the Ribat to Bourguiba's Mausoleum. Bourguiba led the country to independence in the 1950s. Three generations of his family are buried at the mausoleum, which tool over 30 years to build. It was beautiful, but also a little creepy.
Views of Bourguiba's Mausoleum:
Our next stop was the "prix fixe" tourist store in Sousse. Many of the ladies in the tour had complained that they didn't have enough time to shop, so Mohamed added a shopping stop in Sousse to the agenda. I could have done without it - imagine four floors of camel teddy bears, 6' tall houkhas, brass plates with camels on them, stinky perfumes, Tunisia t-shirts, ugly knock-off purses, gaudy scarves and dresses, and cheap rugs. I spent most of my time outside in the traditional medina fighting off the hawkers.
Our final stop before the hotel was a marina on the outskirts of Sousse. A few people walked to the marina but a large group of us followed Mohamed to the local supermarket to buy dates, harissa, olives, capers, and booze. It was the best decision, apparently - we learned afterwards that the hawkers at the marina were particularly aggressive and foul-mouthed.
Our hotel was located in the tourist area of Hammamet called Yasmine Hammamet. Some of the hotels in the strip have Vegas-style themes. One of them had a truly ugly Aladdin/Arabian Nights theme and we were happily mocking it, thinking we were going to stay in a classy hotel, when Sharif turned the bus into the entrance. Egads!
The entrance to the Lella Baya:
So, yes, we stayed in the ugly Vegas-themed Lella Baya hotel. In the rafters Aladdin was riding his magic carpet and below were belly dancer mannequins. You could sit and smoke sheesha from garish houkhas in the bar. Outside, next to the pool, was a South Pacific-style tiki bar. Go figure. I've included some pictures but they really don't do the garishness justice. As I said at the time, the owners paid a lot of money to make the hotel so ugly.
Inside the Lella Baya and the view of the pool from our room:
Views of the amphitheater at El Jem:
It wasn't on the itinerary but we also visited the museum of El Jem. It had the most amazing mosaics and backed onto the ruins of the old town. Like most of the museums we've visited in Tunisia, the museum at El Jem didn't contain any household or personal items recovered from the site. It's like they're not important enough to display. Either that or they were ransacked and are not available. It's sad because I always find the household and personal items the most fascinating.
From there we drove to Monastir, had lunch, and then toured the ancient fortress called the Ribat. I'd left my camera on the bus during lunch and didn't have it with me at the Ribat, which is too bad because it was really amazing. The highlight was climbing the narrow circular staircase of the watchtower to get a 360 degree view of the surrounding area.
Outside the Ribat:
We walked from the Ribat to Bourguiba's Mausoleum. Bourguiba led the country to independence in the 1950s. Three generations of his family are buried at the mausoleum, which tool over 30 years to build. It was beautiful, but also a little creepy.
Views of Bourguiba's Mausoleum:
Our next stop was the "prix fixe" tourist store in Sousse. Many of the ladies in the tour had complained that they didn't have enough time to shop, so Mohamed added a shopping stop in Sousse to the agenda. I could have done without it - imagine four floors of camel teddy bears, 6' tall houkhas, brass plates with camels on them, stinky perfumes, Tunisia t-shirts, ugly knock-off purses, gaudy scarves and dresses, and cheap rugs. I spent most of my time outside in the traditional medina fighting off the hawkers.
Our final stop before the hotel was a marina on the outskirts of Sousse. A few people walked to the marina but a large group of us followed Mohamed to the local supermarket to buy dates, harissa, olives, capers, and booze. It was the best decision, apparently - we learned afterwards that the hawkers at the marina were particularly aggressive and foul-mouthed.
Our hotel was located in the tourist area of Hammamet called Yasmine Hammamet. Some of the hotels in the strip have Vegas-style themes. One of them had a truly ugly Aladdin/Arabian Nights theme and we were happily mocking it, thinking we were going to stay in a classy hotel, when Sharif turned the bus into the entrance. Egads!
The entrance to the Lella Baya:
So, yes, we stayed in the ugly Vegas-themed Lella Baya hotel. In the rafters Aladdin was riding his magic carpet and below were belly dancer mannequins. You could sit and smoke sheesha from garish houkhas in the bar. Outside, next to the pool, was a South Pacific-style tiki bar. Go figure. I've included some pictures but they really don't do the garishness justice. As I said at the time, the owners paid a lot of money to make the hotel so ugly.
Inside the Lella Baya and the view of the pool from our room:
15.4.08
Monday, April 14, 2008 – SFAX
We left Djerba early and headed for the ferry terminal. You can access Djerba via a causeway (which we used the day before) or via a ferry. It was nice to be on the water after so many days driving through the desert.
Views from the ferry:
We drove from Djerba to Gabes, where we stopped for 30 minutes to visit the spice market. The spice hawkers were very aggressive and most of us left the market in a few minutes. Outside of the market Mom and I met up with Tamara, who had discovered a carpentry shop while holding the toilet door closed for her mother. She led us back there and a man who spoke German described the type of furniture they created, the type of wood they used, and where the wood came from. It was lovely to smell the wood chips and rest in the cool of the shop.
Views from the spice market:
After Gabes we drove north and stopped for lunch at a roadside café. We had salad, pommes frites, and grilled lamb. Unfortunately the lamb was mostly bone and was raw in some places. We still cleaned our plates, because we knew it would be hours before dinner.
Our next stop was the hotel in Sfax. It’s located in the heart of downtown, unlike the other hotels where we’ve stayed, which are located in “zones touristiques” that are typically several kilometers away from town so that the tourists are protected from themselves. A few people on the tour went out and explored the Medina. You can guess from the number of posts today that I stayed inside and blogged. I am an unashamed nerd.
Views from the ferry:
We drove from Djerba to Gabes, where we stopped for 30 minutes to visit the spice market. The spice hawkers were very aggressive and most of us left the market in a few minutes. Outside of the market Mom and I met up with Tamara, who had discovered a carpentry shop while holding the toilet door closed for her mother. She led us back there and a man who spoke German described the type of furniture they created, the type of wood they used, and where the wood came from. It was lovely to smell the wood chips and rest in the cool of the shop.
Views from the spice market:
After Gabes we drove north and stopped for lunch at a roadside café. We had salad, pommes frites, and grilled lamb. Unfortunately the lamb was mostly bone and was raw in some places. We still cleaned our plates, because we knew it would be hours before dinner.
Our next stop was the hotel in Sfax. It’s located in the heart of downtown, unlike the other hotels where we’ve stayed, which are located in “zones touristiques” that are typically several kilometers away from town so that the tourists are protected from themselves. A few people on the tour went out and explored the Medina. You can guess from the number of posts today that I stayed inside and blogged. I am an unashamed nerd.
14.4.08
Sunday, April 13, 2008 – DJERBA
Our hotel in Tatouine was beautiful on the outside and disappointing on the inside. In particular, the food was the worst we’ve encountered. The “highlight” of dinner was half-raw BBQ chicken. Everyone took a piece and everyone left it on their plates. Breakfast was leftover desserts from the night before.
The restaurant at Tatouine:
From Tatouine we drove to Djerba, an island on the Mediterranean. Our first stop was a pottery store. It reminded me of the pottery store that we stopped at in Trinidad, Cuba. It was a family business and the art of pottery had been passed down from generation to generation. I bought three pieces of pottery for myself and one for my potter friend Michael.
Views from the pottery shop:
Our next stop was the marketplace in Houmt Souk, the capital of Djerba. Mohamed took us to a reputable silver and gold store. Unfortunately nothing appealed to Mom or I, so we didn’t buy anything. We had lunch in Houmt Souk and then Mohamed unleashed us on the market – unsupervised! – for an hour.
Mom bought some small kilim from a vendor who spoke terrific German and was an expert salesman. I bought a supposedly silver bracelet from a jeweler who was very intent on copping a feel. Mom got harassed by a vendor who wanted to sell her a 5 dinar package of dates for 50 dinar. He literally followed her down the street for 30 feet until Mohamed told him to leave her alone.
From the souk we traveled by bus to a Jewish temple, the largest on Djerba. Apparently a lot of Jewish people moved here because of strife in other countries, but the majority left Djerba for France or Israel in the 1950s. They made us go through a security check, including scanning our bags, before granting us access to the temple. After I passed through the metal detector the guards were motioning me and saying things in French that I didn’t understand. One finally made it clear that he wanted to look in my purse. He searched it and pulled out my Swiss army knife, which I’d forgotten was in my purse. He agreed to hold it until I returned from the temple.
Inside the temple there were four men reading the Torah. It was beautiful. We covered our heads and took off our shoes as asked, and I told Mom to put some coins into the collection box. When we stepped into the next room, however, a man indicated that we had to pay additional money. I balked and pointed to the collection box, and the man responded with a barrage of Arabic that I didn’t understand but I could clearly interpret his body language. I refused to enter and walked away.
I heard later that he was quite upset that I left and that he yelled at me for a while as I walked away. I was really just interested in leaving. I didn’t object to paying entrance, but I did object to being insulted. A few women followed me and walked back to the guard post. The rest of our group returned shortly afterwards, and they said it was hardly worth the visit or the entry fee because no one explained the significance of the temple or the architecture.
From there we drove to our hotel. It’s the first time that Mohamed or Sharif have stayed at this hotel so we got lost and had to ask for directions. We finally found the hotel and checked in. We did some laundry, I checked my email, and then we went for dinner. Another day done in Tunisia.
The restaurant at Tatouine:
From Tatouine we drove to Djerba, an island on the Mediterranean. Our first stop was a pottery store. It reminded me of the pottery store that we stopped at in Trinidad, Cuba. It was a family business and the art of pottery had been passed down from generation to generation. I bought three pieces of pottery for myself and one for my potter friend Michael.
Views from the pottery shop:
Our next stop was the marketplace in Houmt Souk, the capital of Djerba. Mohamed took us to a reputable silver and gold store. Unfortunately nothing appealed to Mom or I, so we didn’t buy anything. We had lunch in Houmt Souk and then Mohamed unleashed us on the market – unsupervised! – for an hour.
Mom bought some small kilim from a vendor who spoke terrific German and was an expert salesman. I bought a supposedly silver bracelet from a jeweler who was very intent on copping a feel. Mom got harassed by a vendor who wanted to sell her a 5 dinar package of dates for 50 dinar. He literally followed her down the street for 30 feet until Mohamed told him to leave her alone.
From the souk we traveled by bus to a Jewish temple, the largest on Djerba. Apparently a lot of Jewish people moved here because of strife in other countries, but the majority left Djerba for France or Israel in the 1950s. They made us go through a security check, including scanning our bags, before granting us access to the temple. After I passed through the metal detector the guards were motioning me and saying things in French that I didn’t understand. One finally made it clear that he wanted to look in my purse. He searched it and pulled out my Swiss army knife, which I’d forgotten was in my purse. He agreed to hold it until I returned from the temple.
Inside the temple there were four men reading the Torah. It was beautiful. We covered our heads and took off our shoes as asked, and I told Mom to put some coins into the collection box. When we stepped into the next room, however, a man indicated that we had to pay additional money. I balked and pointed to the collection box, and the man responded with a barrage of Arabic that I didn’t understand but I could clearly interpret his body language. I refused to enter and walked away.
I heard later that he was quite upset that I left and that he yelled at me for a while as I walked away. I was really just interested in leaving. I didn’t object to paying entrance, but I did object to being insulted. A few women followed me and walked back to the guard post. The rest of our group returned shortly afterwards, and they said it was hardly worth the visit or the entry fee because no one explained the significance of the temple or the architecture.
From there we drove to our hotel. It’s the first time that Mohamed or Sharif have stayed at this hotel so we got lost and had to ask for directions. We finally found the hotel and checked in. We did some laundry, I checked my email, and then we went for dinner. Another day done in Tunisia.
Saturday, April 12, 2008 – TATOUINE
We left Douz early. Our first stop was the side of the road in the mountains. Our bus had broken down again. Sharif replaced the broken belt and we were on our way again. Our next stop was the “troglodyte” village of Matmata. They call it a troglodyte village because the houses are carved into the rocks and look quite primitive. They’re not primitive at all, as we discovered when we stopped at a house near the roadside. We were invited inside, offered bread and mint tea, and encouraged to look around.
Views from the troglodyte home:
There was a room for the family’s goats near the entrance. Inside there was a store room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and a work room that contained hand tools and a loom. On the walls and ceilings you could see tool marks from the adze used to carve out the rooms. It was really impressive and ingenious.
We stopped for lunch in Matmata. We ate at the Hotel Side Driss, which is a troglodyte hotel with rooms carved into the mountain. Apparently some parts of Star Wars I was filmed at the hotel, but none of us could recall any scene featuring the hotel.
Lunch shots:
Our next stop was the ancient central market in Medenine. The market is lined with ghorfas, or storage rooms. In the past each family in the surrounding had its own ghorfa, in which they stored grain and other products for consumption or sale. Families from throughout the region would meet once a week to exchange goods at the market. We learned that in recent history the ghorfas in Medenine were converted to hostel accommodation, which explained the electrical hook ups.
Views of the ghorfas in Medenine:
Next was Ksar Haddada, another ghorfa site that was converted to a hotel and then abandoned. According to the sign outside, they filmed Star Wars IV there in the late ‘90s. It did look like some of the places on “Tatouine”.
Views from Ksar Haddada:
Our final stop for the day was another troglodyte village, or perhaps a troglodyte city, called Chenini. The entire mountainside was covered with paths and doorways into houses carved into the stone. It was a wicked walk up the hillside but worth the effort to see the ancient houses up close.
Views from Chenini:
Views from the troglodyte home:
There was a room for the family’s goats near the entrance. Inside there was a store room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and a work room that contained hand tools and a loom. On the walls and ceilings you could see tool marks from the adze used to carve out the rooms. It was really impressive and ingenious.
We stopped for lunch in Matmata. We ate at the Hotel Side Driss, which is a troglodyte hotel with rooms carved into the mountain. Apparently some parts of Star Wars I was filmed at the hotel, but none of us could recall any scene featuring the hotel.
Lunch shots:
Our next stop was the ancient central market in Medenine. The market is lined with ghorfas, or storage rooms. In the past each family in the surrounding had its own ghorfa, in which they stored grain and other products for consumption or sale. Families from throughout the region would meet once a week to exchange goods at the market. We learned that in recent history the ghorfas in Medenine were converted to hostel accommodation, which explained the electrical hook ups.
Views of the ghorfas in Medenine:
Next was Ksar Haddada, another ghorfa site that was converted to a hotel and then abandoned. According to the sign outside, they filmed Star Wars IV there in the late ‘90s. It did look like some of the places on “Tatouine”.
Views from Ksar Haddada:
Our final stop for the day was another troglodyte village, or perhaps a troglodyte city, called Chenini. The entire mountainside was covered with paths and doorways into houses carved into the stone. It was a wicked walk up the hillside but worth the effort to see the ancient houses up close.
Views from Chenini:
Friday, April 11, 2008 – DOUZ
This morning started with a quick trip down the highway to the train station where we boarded the “Red Lizard”, a 1920s passenger train that now transports tourists over a mountain pass for novelty and photo ops. It turns around at the Seldja phosphate mine.
Views from the "Red Lizard":
The most memorable part of the train trip was the rude French tourists. When we arrived most, if not all, of the seats were already taken. They refused to give up seats for people who were obviously old and unsteady. Our guide had to really yell at them to give up even a single seat. The worst part is that most of the French tourists were traveling as families, so the seats were occupied by bored teenagers who were either sleeping or playing their PSPs.
From the train station we started the drive south east toward the Sahara. We stopped mid-way through the Chott El Jerid salt lake to visit the “toilettes normales” (pit toilets) and do a bit of shopping. As I was holding the toilet door shut for Mom, I looked over toward the bus and saw broken pieces of belt flying out from the engine compartment. When Mom was finished using the toilets I went to our guide and driver to tell them about the broken belt.
Views from the road:
It was the air conditioning belt that broke, the same one that broke the day before and the day before that. Our driver Sharif replaced it with a spare belt but we could hear it slipping and grinding as we continued our drive across the salt lake.
We arrived at Douz around 5pm. It was extremely hot so everyone changed into bathing suits and headed down to the pool. There was a group of hairy guys smoking cigarettes and drinking beer at the shallow end of the pool. (Most of our group had congregated at the deep end.) Mom doesn’t like deep water so she and I worked our way through the group of guys and eased our way into the shallow end via the stairs.
We discovered that the shallow end was actually quite deep, so Mom opted to stay at that end of the pool by herself. I joined the other ladies at the other end of the pool. While I was there, one of the guys struck up a conversation with Mom. She learned that they were from all over Russia and eastern Europe and were on a off-road BMW motorcycle safari through Tunisia. They’d just crossed 130km of hard sand desert. One guy told Mom that they’d each drank 6 liters of water that day and none of them could pee. That shows you how hard the riding was and how hot it was that day.
The bikes and bike maintenance truck:
That night we had the opportunity to ride camels into the Sahara Desert at sunset. The tour company kitted us out in desert gear and then helped us mount the camels. I thought that our guides would also ride camels but they didn’t. Instead, they each led a pair of camels by hand.
Views from the camel ride:
We rode about 1.5km into the desert and then stopped to admire the “sunset”, which of course was completely obscured by the sand storm. Instead we took lots of photos of camels. Mom’s camel decided to roll over on his side and thrash back and forth in the sand. Another camel joined in. It was the most hilarious thing. Just before dark we all got back onto our camels for the ride home. The camels knew it was the end of the day and practically trotted back.
More camel pictures:
I know it was complete tourist kitsch but it was a heckuva lot of fun. I’d do it again, and preferably for a longer ride.
Views from the "Red Lizard":
The most memorable part of the train trip was the rude French tourists. When we arrived most, if not all, of the seats were already taken. They refused to give up seats for people who were obviously old and unsteady. Our guide had to really yell at them to give up even a single seat. The worst part is that most of the French tourists were traveling as families, so the seats were occupied by bored teenagers who were either sleeping or playing their PSPs.
From the train station we started the drive south east toward the Sahara. We stopped mid-way through the Chott El Jerid salt lake to visit the “toilettes normales” (pit toilets) and do a bit of shopping. As I was holding the toilet door shut for Mom, I looked over toward the bus and saw broken pieces of belt flying out from the engine compartment. When Mom was finished using the toilets I went to our guide and driver to tell them about the broken belt.
Views from the road:
It was the air conditioning belt that broke, the same one that broke the day before and the day before that. Our driver Sharif replaced it with a spare belt but we could hear it slipping and grinding as we continued our drive across the salt lake.
We arrived at Douz around 5pm. It was extremely hot so everyone changed into bathing suits and headed down to the pool. There was a group of hairy guys smoking cigarettes and drinking beer at the shallow end of the pool. (Most of our group had congregated at the deep end.) Mom doesn’t like deep water so she and I worked our way through the group of guys and eased our way into the shallow end via the stairs.
We discovered that the shallow end was actually quite deep, so Mom opted to stay at that end of the pool by herself. I joined the other ladies at the other end of the pool. While I was there, one of the guys struck up a conversation with Mom. She learned that they were from all over Russia and eastern Europe and were on a off-road BMW motorcycle safari through Tunisia. They’d just crossed 130km of hard sand desert. One guy told Mom that they’d each drank 6 liters of water that day and none of them could pee. That shows you how hard the riding was and how hot it was that day.
The bikes and bike maintenance truck:
That night we had the opportunity to ride camels into the Sahara Desert at sunset. The tour company kitted us out in desert gear and then helped us mount the camels. I thought that our guides would also ride camels but they didn’t. Instead, they each led a pair of camels by hand.
Views from the camel ride:
We rode about 1.5km into the desert and then stopped to admire the “sunset”, which of course was completely obscured by the sand storm. Instead we took lots of photos of camels. Mom’s camel decided to roll over on his side and thrash back and forth in the sand. Another camel joined in. It was the most hilarious thing. Just before dark we all got back onto our camels for the ride home. The camels knew it was the end of the day and practically trotted back.
More camel pictures:
I know it was complete tourist kitsch but it was a heckuva lot of fun. I’d do it again, and preferably for a longer ride.
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