Tabarka to Bulla Regia to Le Kef

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We were awaken by the first call to prayer of the day. A man’s voice echoed through the loud speakers but we still got up later than expected. The staff at Les Mimosas still served us the free breakfast of hard-boiled egg, bread, butter, coffee and orange juice. We checked out, sad that we didn’t get to take advantage of the pool with a view of the city, and visited Les Aiguilles, or the Needles. They are spiny pinnacles of rock that jut out of the Old Harbour Bay, but they were less impressive than we originally thought. We drove towards the zone touristique and chose Malibu Beach to set our beach blanket and enjoy the early afternoon. There were a lot of Czech people there, most of them sunbathing topless while young Tunisians gaped from the beach. The Mediterranean was warm enough to swim for more than an hour straight but cool enough to keep us on our toes. We weren’t keen on staying, though, because the beach was littered with cigarette butts.

Back in town, the first day of Ramadan was pretty obvious. All the restaurants and cafes were closed. Grills all around the port looked lonely and unused. We went to one store that was open and bought what would be our usual Ramadan lunch for the rest of our stay: a loaf of fresh bread, canned fish and Coke. This time, we added some pickled olives and vegetables from the market. We parked our car under a big tree back at Les Mimosas because we knew we can’t just eat in front of those who were more pious than us. Our small homemade lunch was pretty good, and we ate knowing that from sunrise to sundown, the Muslims will refrain from eating or drinking for the next forty days.

We drove past Ain Draham, by the Kroumirie Mountains and rolling hills covered in cork trees. We made a detour to Bulla Regia, a Roman site with underground villas intact. We paid the small fee to enter, plus the extra dinar to carry my camera, and a guide followed us to the site to show us around. The Neolithic tombs around the site proved that the area was inhabited before the Romans arrived. “Regia” was added to the town of Bulla after the Byzantines took over. We felt the sun burning our shoulders, but the temperature dropped as soon as we walked underground. (It was difficult to drink from our water bottles in front of a man who hasn’t had a drop since sunrise.) We walked through the House of Treasure, the House of the Peacock, the House of the Hunt and the House of the Amphitrite, where a mosaic of Venus flanked by two centaurs came alive as soon as our guide doused water over the tiles. The baths, the forum and the amphitheater were all equally amazing.

We left and continued our drive to Le Kef, also called El Kef. It didn’t take too long, but the Dr. was tired. We checked in Hotel-Residence Venus. For 40 dinars, we had our own bathroom again in our room. Our blue shutters opened to the mountains behind the medina. No one seemed to be in the hotel except us, even though our guidebook touted September as the beginning of the high season.

As the first day of Ramadan was wrapping up, we noticed the groups of men hanging outside the cafes. Le Kef was absolutely great for people watching. Hundreds of men sit on plastic chairs lined along the streets with nothing to do but talk and hang out. Not one woman can be found outside. As the afternoon call to prayer signaled the end of the day’s fasting, just like that, the streets emptied out and turned into a ghost town. It was eerie to see no one all of a sudden.

We were thankful for a stranger’s recommendation to eat at Ramzi, the only restaurant lit on rue Hedi Chaker. Without any prompting, we joined the staff in breaking the first day’s fast. We were first served shorba, or hot spicy soup. And then a plate of briq was put on the table. This one was the regular kind with chunky potatoes, but still with the ubiquitous runny egg. Traditionally during Ramadan, a meat or pasta course follows the two kemias, or appetizers. We chose the kamounia, a meat and offal stew seasoned with lots of cumin.

But as fast as they all went inside to eat for the first time in twelve hours, the men all stepped back out to resume to their original positions–this time with hot, green mint tea on hand. Still no women around, so it took balls for us to enter one of the cafes and order the same tea that the men were having. To my surprise and delight, a couple of the older men gave up their seats for me. Fresh mint leaves are stewed in hot water for several hours until they turn the water black. The tea is poured in a small glass from high to create a froth and a lot of sugar is added to make it syrupy. It’s strong and painfully sweet at times, but we found ourselves joining the men after dinner throughout our stay in Tunisia.

Related post/s:
Day 3 in Tunisia: Tabarka photos on Flickr
Day 3 in Tunisia: Bulla Regia photos on Flickr
Day 3 in Tunisia: Le Kef photos on Flickr
Day 2: Bizerte to Lake Ichkeul to Tabarka, Tunisia

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Bizerte to Lake Ichkeul to Tabarka

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As soon as we drove away from the city, the landscaped changed. Olive trees lined the highway and dry, earthy dust covered the air. We arrived in Bizerte after an hour, parked our car in front of the municipal building and walked to the Old Port.

Bizerte sits on a canal that links the lake to the Mediterranean Sea. Small wooden boats were docked at the port, while the tall fortifications of the kasbah (fort, or citadel) flanked the fishing town. We went inside the market to check out the local goods. There were the usual bananas and grapes, but there were also prickly pears and doughnut peaches. The fish market had only the freshest produce, from the small sardines to the extra large swordfish. The meat market was far more interesting. A cow’s head, with its eyes opened, was hanging; all its innards displayed on the tables. I asked a vendor for permission and he let me take a photo of the head, but wagged his finger at me when I started to take a photo of the stomach lining and the bloody mess on the counter.

Inside the medina (or the old and traditional section of a city), a maze of stone walls guided us from narrow street to narrow street. It was dirty and rundown. We had to step over a few piles of shit. We even saw two dead kittens.

We walked by a restaurant called Marco Polo right outside the medina and noticed an old man grilling fish. It was busy with lunching Tunisian men, and so we immediately knew it was a good place to rest and eat. We sat inside to stay away from the blistering sun. The Dr. was ordered by the owner to buy fresh fish back in the market if we wanted to eat fish. He bought a kilo’s worth of what he thought were sardines. When the owner shook his head, he walked with him back to the market to exchange the fish with the correct type. We waited only a few minutes before we were served two platefuls of the grilled sardines with salad meshouia, a cold plate of roasted vegetables swimming in olive oil. For dessert, we crossed the street and bought mint tea which every Tunisian-Muslim man seemed to drink in lieu of alcohol.

Fortified, we walked back to the municipal building after lunch to find an empty street. Our car was towed! Panicked, we went inside to ask a stranger where and how we can get our car back. We took a cab to the parking lot, paid 30 dinars, and drove away with our rental. It wasn’t as much of a hassle as losing our luggage, but it still freaked us out. Why do we always have to be taught a lesson when we’re traveling? (See speeding ticket in Iceland post.)

It was time to head to our destination for the night, Tabarka. But first, we took a detour to Lake Ichkeul, a World Heritage-listed national park where different species of birds fly by from the Sahara en route across Europe. Apparently, a water buffalo was imported, too. We saw a flock of swallows and heard geese honking, but the only water buffalo we saw was the statue at the park’s entrance, where there was no admission fee, but the guard asked us for a “donation.” (He took out a blank piece of paper when we handed him a couple of dinars and wrote our names down to make us believe that our contribution was going elsewhere besides his lunch allowance.) We did a quick hike around the mountain where the view was so different from the city’s. The marsh was dry and the shallow lake was surrounded by cacti and swarmed with mosquitoes, but it was breezy at the top. We felt immediately better.

The sun started to set, so we left in a hurry and started our drive to Tabarka. The drive from the small town of Sejnane to Tabarka was like being in California. More olive trees surrounded the hills, but figs and eucalyptus also wrapped the valleys with lush greens. It was almost 9pm when we checked in Les Mimosas Hotel. Our bedroom with private bath and a terrace looked down the town center and out to Genoese Castle. It cost us 64 dinars.

After moving our stuff up, we walked to the main street to look for dinner. We found a restaurant with only an Arabic sign. We ate a spicy version of meshouia salad (thank you, hidden Serrano peppers with seeds intact), an overflowing ojja, a stew of tomatoes, chilies and merguez, or sausage, with an egg stirred in before serving, and my first Tunisian briq, a flaky, deep-fried crepe of runny eggs and, curiously, tuna. We also encountered our first harissa, a red chili paste seasoned with garlic and caraway seeds. Harissa is what kimchi is to Koreans–we ended up looking for it every time we sat down for a meal. We also ordered a bowl of hsou, or spicy soup with semolina and capers, but the owner sensed that we were already full and canceled our order.

We went back to our hotel room and enjoyed the night view from our terrace. Tabarka was waiting for us the next day.

Related post/s:
Day 2 in Tunisia: Bizerte photos on Flickr
Day 2 in Tunisia: Lake Ichkeul photos on Flickr
Day 1: Sidi Bou Said, Tunisia

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