By ROBERT DRAPER
Desert dunes and lush oases. Roman ruins and local wine. This is Africa like you’ve never known it.
We were standing on the top of a sand dune at least 100 yards high.
According to the map, this was still Tunisia, while a few miles to the west lay Algeria. But from this peak, the only visible signs of civilization in this pale copper infinity of the Sahara desert were two long-abandoned settlements a mile apart – both, as it turns out, movie sets: one for Star Wars and the other for The English Patient.
Skittering downhill and instigating a mini-avalanche of sand in the process, Lara and I met up with our guide and driver, both sitting in a four-wheeler listening to a pop song by the Lebanese ingenue Yara. A full hour’s drive across shimmering flatness elapsed before we encountered another human, a little girl in Berber scarves standing on the side of an empty desert road, holding up a large water bottle full of white liquid. Fresh camel’s milk for sale. An hour later, we were back in our hotel, watching the sun set over the oasis town of Tozeur while drinking a glass of wine and listening to the local muezzin sing out the call to prayer.
This sequence of events – encounters with the wholly exotic accompanied by the comfortingly familiar – is emblematic of Tunisia, one of the most remarkable destinations in the world. For a Muslim country in North Africa, Tunisia is both welcoming and astonishing. Hordes of Europeans travel here for the express purpose of clinging like barnacles to the coastline, enjoying the lush beaches of Hammamet and Jerba by day and impeccably grilled seafood by night. Others flock to Tunisia to trek by camel on the virgin sub-Saharan dunes. History and archaeology buffs design lengthy itineraries devoted to mining the richest mélange of Roman, Greek, Carthaginian, and African ancient culture to be found anywhere on the planet, while students of more recent events come to retrace the great World War II battles that pitted Rommel against Patton. I could make a pretty strong case for doing absolutely none of the above and instead falling into the spiritually mesmerizing sway of Kairouan, the fourth most holy city in Islam after Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem. Or for throwing out the tourist playbook altogether and languishing in the vineyards and orange groves girdling the port towns of Bizerte and Cap Bon, less than 200 miles from Sicily. The delight of Tunisia is also its happy dilemma, which is that the country is the size of Florida but feels like two continents. There’s too much here for a single visit. But we had fun trying.
We arrived in Tunis on a Sunday evening for a ten-day excursion created for us by Cox & Kings tour company. Our guide, an exuberant part-time archaeologist named Abde, had bad news for us: Most of the finer restaurants were closed, except for one that did not serve alcohol. Could we manage?
Lara and I looked at each other. Tunisia being Muslim, we had planned on a largely dry vacation anyway. “No, no,” assured Abde. “There’s excellent wine made in Tunisia. Really,” he added in response to my disbelieving expression.
“But is this OK?” Lara asked, motioning to her skirt, which fell to her knees.
Abde laughed. “Anywhere except inside a mosque,” he assured her. Whereupon he led us through a narrow stone corridor in the 1,400-year-old residential quarters of Tunis’ medina. An elderly man in robes stepped out of the darkness, held up a lantern, and motioned for us to follow him to a gigantic unmarked wooden door. The man rapped on it. An unseen hand opened the door, and Lara and I stepped into Essaraya, a staggering eighteenth-century aristocratic palace with a high cupola ceiling, ornately tiled walls, and marble floors. A gaunt-faced musician sat in a corner, and his six-string luth filled the room with a keening Arabic-inflected melody.
“I think we’re okay without the alcohol,” I observed.
“I’m okay without eating,” Lara remarked as she studied the cupola.
Still, she happily opened her menu and began dusting off her French. (A half century after France departed its North African colony, French remains Tunisia’s second language behind Arabic.) We settled into a feast of octopus couscous and elaborately spiced lamb – the former being one of the hundreds of variations on Tunisia’s staple pasta. This was also our first encounter with two other ubiquitous elements of Tunisian cuisine that we would come to crave: the delicious, if highly incendiary chile paste known as harissa and the desserts that made ingenious use of almonds, peanuts, pine nuts, or sesame seeds. Later we would see for ourselves where the ingredients came from, at the vast Marché Central, a temple of fish, fennel, pomegranates, and tomatoes that resembled the markets of every other great Mediterranean city I’ve visited – except that none of those stood a few hundred miles away from a bountyless desert.
Tunis was bright and cool the next morning. Outside our pleasingly brand-new hotel, the Tunisia Palace, the locals sat at café tables reading their Arabic newspapers over tea. Striding two blocks, we left behind the modern world and passed through the ninth-century sandstone archway leading into the medina, a narrow and labyrinthine tangle of shops, mosques, former palaces, and bathhouses. Wisps of incense curled through the alleys. But this was positively futuristic, compared to our next stop.
The rubble of Carthage, ten or so miles from Tunis, tells a story that predates the medina by
1,700 years. Founded by the Phoenicians around 800 bc, Carthage would later become the second-greatest city in the Roman Empire. Today, the hills around the ancient metropolis are cluttered with affluent houses and boulevards lined with date trees. Gesturing to three massive catapult balls lying near a set of broken columns, Abde said, “These are the WMDs the Romans used to destroy Carthage.”
Less than a mile away, we strolled through the ruins of the Antonine Baths – the Roman empire’s fourth largest, until the Vandals sacked the complex in ad 439. Planted in the grass was a 2,500-year-old granite stela featuring the familiar Carthaginian stick-figure symbol known as the Tanit. The stela had recently been plastered back together after an obese tourist sat on it.
“Something as historically significant as this shouldn’t even be out in the open where a tourist can touch it,” Abde said disapprovingly. Then he shrugged. “But there’s no room in the museums for it. We’ve got too many treasures to protect all of them.”
From Carthage we headed a few miles away to Sidi Bou Said, long a haven for the artistic (Paul Klee) and the superfabulous (Sophia Loren). Doors all over Tunisia – with three door knockers, one each for men, women, and children so that hosts can distinguish the visitor – are a marvel, but those of Sidi Bou Said take the concept to a new level. The town’s whitewashed houses feature doors that are uniformly painted blue, a throwback to days when the locals used leftover paint from their boats. Tourists jammed the main strip and the coffee shops.
We ducked into Dar Zarrouk, a swank restaurant overhanging the Mediterranean. Grilled fish, white wine, a view onto the sea … neither of us asked it aloud, but the question was obvious: This is Africa?
“Check out my ride,” Lara said of Nino, the 4-year-old camel she had just mounted. He was a docile lad, as was my steed, Abdul. We plodded through the dunes outside Douz. A half hour into our trek, the sun broke through the clouds and pounded the desert floor. Another half hour after that, Lara declared her curiosity about camel riding thoroughly sated, and we headed back.
Spa appointments at the hammam – one of Tunisia’s revered bathhouses – awaited at our hotel in Tozeur. “You should pick up some tfal,” Abde urged Lara. “It’s gray dirt that comes from desert mountains. You add water to it, make a mud paste of it, and then leave it in your hair for a while. It makes your hair shiny.”
Imbued with a sense of mission, we made our way into Tozeur’s agreeably scruffy market. A spice vendor nodded when Abde made the request. “Twenty-four dinars a kilo,” the vendor declared, protesting as we left, “you won’t find any anywhere else in town.” A few blocks away at another spice and herb shop, the owner dragged out a huge bag filled with gray rocks. Two dinars – about $1.50 – a kilo. Lara’s eyes lit up. The shopkeeper kicked in a clump of mountain herbs for roasting with chicken.
The sub-Saharan topography wasn’t the expected monochromatic expanse. Lush oases sprang up north of Tozeur. Driving east, a causeway conveyed us over an immense salt lake called Chott Djerid, some 70 feet below sea level. A couple of hours later, we were descending through the Dahar Mountains and then into little Berber villages where some of the locals still lived in troglodytic caves – which, for a couple of dinars, the residents happily allowed us to enter. (One of these, a hotel in Matmata, was used by George Lucas for the memorable bar scene in Star Wars.) Farther southeast were a number of the elaborate fortified granaries known as ksour, where Berber Bedouins hunkered down for three centuries until the country’s first postcolonial president, Habib Bourguiba, decreed that Tunisians should abandon tribalism for the sake of national identity. The ksour at Haddada and El Ferch were blissfully deserted, their palm-wood doorways and elevated baked-mud rooms, known as ghorfas, crumbling but still intact, like desert Alamos.
Late that afternoon we checked into the Sangho, an exquisitely manicured desert rose of an inn just outside the remote village of Tataouine. In a day’s drive, we had begun a few miles from Algeria and concluded 50 miles west of Libya. Lara’s hair was still shiny from the tfal treatment. We sat in the hotel garden, drank Tunisian beer, and watched the desert mountains go crimson with the dusk.
Our driver, Shushan, greeted us the next morning with almond-filled local delicacies known as “horns of the gazelle.” With the Sahara in our rearview, Shushan pushed northward through acres of olive groves, past herds of sheep as bulbous as pigs. The sea came into view at the wealthy industrial city of Sfax. But we departed the coastline for a look at the astounding Roman coliseum at El Djem – the empire’s third biggest, where, standing in the middle of the arena, you can almost hear the echoes of Septimius Severus and Hadrian roaring their approval of the blood sport below.
The best was saved for last, however. Kairouan, with 47 mosques, is the Islamic soul of Tunisia. Its compact medina – with beautifully ornamented doorways behind which the same families have resided for over 1,000 years – throbs with authenticity. The dazzling Grand Mosque of Oqba (named after the Arab general who founded it in ad 670 as one of North Africa’s first Islamic temples) is a classically Tunisian hybrid of Roman masonry beneath a Byzantine dome. We spent a day in the old quarter, trying not to stare at the bearded men who shuffled past in their sandals and silk djebbas and red chechiya caps as if from some earlier century. Lara and I had begun to hone our haggling talents in the medina’s antique jewelry stores, and so when Abde reminded us that Kairouan is also Tunisia’s rug-making capital, we immediately requested a visit to the city’s rug cooperative. An hour and a few cups of mint tea later, we emerged from the co-op cradling large bundles of embroidered wool.
Back at the hotel in Kairouan – the magnificent Hôtel la Kasbah, situated in a fortified stone palace adjacent to the medina – Lara and I sat in our room with the windows thrown open to hear the ritual chanting of the muezzin. We stared at the odd collection of souvenirs we’d gathered: locally made olive oil, harissa chile powder, silk scarves, rugs, rosewater, silver bracelets, a jewelry box made of camel bone – and of course, the tfal and herbs.
“You still haven’t bought your ceramic octopus trap,” Lara observed.
“Next time,” I said confidently.
GETTING THERE Air France offers daily nonstop and connecting flights to Tunisia, as do Lufthansa, Alitalia, and Air Europa.
WHEN TO GO Seasonally speaking, Tunisia follows European travel patterns, so if you like hot and bustling, June through August is your best bet – while temperatures, crowds, and prices drop during the very pleasant months of March through May.
DOING IT Cover desert, coast, and countryside on a private ten-day journey with Cox & Kings. Begin and end in Tunis, where you’ll explore its medieval medina, its mosques, and the Bardo Museum. After a day trip to the temple-filled city of Dougga, travel to Kairouan, Tunisia’s oldest Arab city, and stay in a converted casbah. Tour the ghostly ruins of the desert’s Sufetula before venturing into the countryside to marvel at El Djem’s ancient Roman amphitheater. A visit to Carthage’s monumental ruins punctuates a drive along the coast to the seaside villages of Mahdia, Sousse, and Sidi Bou Said. Departures: Any day through 2010 (high-season supplement may apply in July and August); from $5,975.
MORE WAYS TO GO
Absolute Travel’s private six-day trip to Tunisia showcases the country’s highlights. Stay in both Tunis and Kairouan, ideal bases for excursions to Carthage, El Djem, Sousse, and Monastir, a fishing port turned resort town. A fitting finale: Spend the last night of the trip in a restored Ottoman palace. Departures: Any day through 2010; from $3,875.
Set sail on the 114-passenger Corinthian II with Travel Dynamics International’s 13-day cruise that includes three days in Tunisia. By day, explore Carthage; nearby North Africa American Cemetery and Memorial, where nearly 3,000 American soldiers from World War II are buried; and Kasserine Pass, an important WWII battlefield. By night, retire to your cabin aboard the all-suite ship. The WWII-focused itinerary also includes stops at Malta, Sicily, and multiple ports on mainland Italy. Departure: September 9, 2010; from $6,995.
Insider Expertise
Virtuoso Travel Advisors’ Guide to Ruins of the World
Ephesus
• “There is so much history here – both biblical and world. Go just to walk the streets. You’ll see the theater where Paul preached and the road where Cleopatra and Mark Antony walked.”
• “The 15 percent of Ephesus that has been excavated thus far is so intact – buildings, walkways, intricate murals, clay pots – that you can easily visualize the city as it was.”
Tip: “Visit in fall or spring. Avoid July and August, when temperatures soar.”
Egypt
• “Go to Egypt for the pyramids, the Valley of the Kings, and the temples, including Abu Simbel. You enter Abu Simbel from the back, and when you finally turn the bend and see its enormous relocated statues, it truly amazes you.”
Tips: “Egypt needs to be seen by both land and water. A seven-day cruise on the Nile out of Cairo, preceded or followed by multiple days in that city, is the way to go.”
• “Hire an Egyptologist who stays with you for your entire trip to provide a seamless historical thread through all the ruins you visit.”
Machu Picchu
• “I’ve seen lots of city ruins, but none with the background vistas that bring Machu Picchu such acclaim. The city is set on a sunny ledge, with 360-degree views of cloud-skirted mountain peaks and lush Urubamba Valley forests.”
Tip: “In Lima, stay at Miraflores Park Hotel; in Cuzco, Hotel Monasterio. Taking the Hiram Bingham train is a must. And, of course, a great way to end your trip is to relax for a bit in the Colca Canyon at the spectacular Las Casitas del Colca.”
Petra
• “As you exit the canyon and get your first look at Petra’s Treasury, the view simply takes your breath away. It’s one of the most stunning ‘first sights’ I’ve ever seen.”
Tip: “Spend a night camping near Petra to see thousands of stars, just as the ancients did.”
Pompeii
• “See life frozen in time – it’s unforgettable.”
Tips: “Don’t rush through this area of Italy. Stay a few nights in the little town of Benevento, near Pompeii. October is a fabulous time to visit.”
• “The National Archaeological Museum in Naples is a great complement to Pompeii.”
Off the Beaten Path
Caral-Supe, Peru “Don’t pass up Caral when visiting Machu Picchu; 130 miles north of Lima, it’s the oldest site in the Americas.”
Ellora and Ajanta, India “Extraordinary temples and sculptures cut into the side of the hills.”
Paestum, Italy “Close to Salerno, this Greco-Roman city takes your breath away on a sunny day.”
Palmyra, Syria “One of the best-preserved Persian and Roman cities in the world.”
Three Travel Advisor Tenets
1. Go with a private guide. “They have insider access to popular sites – you can see places before and after hours.” “Good guides provide not only context and culture, but also the historic, social, and personal details that are part and parcel of bringing to life the bones that ruins represent.”
2. Go when the weather is right. “If ‘Location, location, location’ is the credo in real
estate, ‘Weather, weather, weather’ is the travel mantra, especially in these places, as they are mostly outdoors. Make sure to plan travel to coincide with optimal weather.”
3. Go when the crowds don’t. “Try to go at sunrise or sunset. Crowds are at a minimum, and the photo opportunities are spectacular.”