NO, REALLY, THIS IS IT (I lied on the last one when I said it was it...)

OK, so I lied below when I said that it was my final blog (see below). I realized that there was just one more thing I needed to add to this. So many people have asked me what my favorite things were about the trip, well, I’ll try to give you my top 10, although pretty much everything was fantastic in its own way, even the bad days, of which, I am thankful, there were very few.

So here it goes and in no specific order:

Gorillas within five feet of me walking about
Balloon ride over the Masai Mara with the wildebeest migration
Canoe trip on the Zambezi with all of the elephants walking through our lunch
The trek in Nepal in the Himalayas
The leopard walking about, climbing the tree and then continuing lunch
Ellora and Ajanta caves in India
Marrakech and all the crazy colors and sounds of that amazing city
The nine lions feasting on the Zebra followed by the entire animal kingdom congregating at the watering hole in Etosha National Park
Swimming with a whale shark in Mozambique
Sunrise at the dunes in Namibia

Right then, so there are so many other things that are now popping into my head that were just awesome…maybe I should just say the entire trip was fantastic and I would do it all over again in a second (maybe I would go for even longer)! Now, sitting here in the US, I am missing many things and thinking fondly of so much that I was able to experience. I miss all the crazy people I met along the road and small things like the anise seed/candy mix that came after meals in India and was the closest thing to eating licorice that I had experienced in months. The fantastic foods - the Tibetan Thupka soup, Tajines followed by “seasonal fruit”, momos, olives galore, those sticky sweet fried, honey soaked cookies, those amazing coconut cookies the kids in Marrakech sold on the streets, mango lassis and fruit/curd/yogurt.

When again will I say that I actually like porridge/oatmeal? I tried it again here and well, it is just not the same. I think I may have to take back my much earlier comment on how great it was, or maybe I will get lucky and figure out how it is done and be able to make my own. God knows the Moroccan tea I brought back tasted nothing like it did there when I had it. I think I actually even miss my Thermarest and the silky soft interior of my sleeping bag – even Enrique, my tent, holds a tender spot in my heart. I definitely miss the “Don’t Wait!” cry of Charles the cook on the overland truck when each meal was ready.

I worry too, that all those special things that I remember now and all of the feelings and ways and ease of life that I adopted along the road will dissipate like fog burning off in the morning sun. Please, oh please, don’t let me forget, let me remember and hold true to living life rather than letting it pass by unannounced and without adventure.

Again, I say, where shall we go next?

SINKING SHIPS...

First- pixs...my favorite sunset and the end of the long journey, my sinking ship and the drago Brighton gang in vic falls.

Well, so, here it is, my final blog after 8 ½ months of travel…BIG SIGH…it feels strange and confusing and odd not to be getting on a plane tomorrow (OK, that is a lie now as I just got off a plane to NY) or picking up my beloved grey and burgundy, African soil stained, tar covered, sweat covered back pack to get on a bus, train, boat or plane. I have tried now, for several weeks, to write this final blog and I have found it very hard. Mostly, I believe, because my adventures abroad have come to a close and my adventures back in the States are just beginning. That is not to say I won’t be taking other trips in the future but most likely none so long. Truthfully, I am not too sure how I feel about this and am going through a bit of re-adjustment trauma. The panic has only really hit once and my head is at least in a place where I can recognize that it is a passing phase. I have very much enjoyed writing my blog and I do hope that I have not bored you too terribly with all of my babble and that you too, have enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it. It already feels strange not to have new exciting adventures to tell – well there are new adventures but they just don’t seem as thrilling as gorillas, balloon rides, tigers, crazy bus trips, Himalayan hikes, nutty Arabs and the beautiful blue Mediterranean.

Hmmm, well, what have I been doing since I last left you… on the 18th of May, Jules and I woke up to a grey, drizzly Tunisian sky, which I think I have already told you about, and we headed back to the UK, where we arrived to a fairly grey (typically so) British Spring day. A quick train journey got us out to Brighton and Jules’ great little flat where we began to prepare for a weekend of festivities and a small Dragoman reunion. Sus, Steve and Sarah were coming in for the weekend for one more good laugh. In short, we ate loads (including Jules’ fantastic Bannofi Pie (a banana toffee thing) and an orange cake made by Steve), drank a load of wine (no fun shopping for wine in the UK – even the mediocre stuff is expensive! OK, the exchange rate didn’t help me either), wandered along the seaside and through the quaint little streets of Brighton and took a stroll on the South Downs followed by a pub lunch out in the sun and had one final proper Italian gelato. It turned out to be a sunny and warm weekend which made our tromping about Brighton even more fun – quite fantastic in fact. Brighton really is a charmer and I think, if I had to move anywhere in the UK, it would be this seaside town with its air of old England, people strolling the promenade, eating and drinking, and the waves lapping on the pebble beach.

After the lovely weekend, on a cold, wet, steel colored sky sort of day, I headed into London for my last two nights, which I spent in Wimbledon re-packing and organizing the junk that I managed to collect along the way. I also managed to squeeze in a quick trip out to the London International Wine and Spirits Trade fair where I reconnected with some of the South African wine people I had met and one of my old Robert Mondavi co-workers. Then it was off for a night out with Nicky (old co-worker) and friends.

What I had planned on being a short night out – a dinner – turned into a 4:00am return as everyone seemed to want to continue on and on and on and we ended up in one of the cheesier night clubs in London. It is called Tiger Tiger. I think the name pretty much gives it away as did the big brass cat thing in the bathroom. Time flew by and before we knew it, we were being kicked out and being sent home. I did learn one important thing, though, in those hours…I drink what the Brits consider girlie and/of bad beers. I was continually mocked for my choices. Apparently Boddingtons is for the youngsters who don’t quite like the taste of beer and want something light and girlie (hey, I am a girl after all) and the Leffe, (fantastic Belgian beer, I must say – my favorite, and which I am drinking right now), was never really explained. Thus, why the Leffe was an odd choice I never learned but the guys in the party sure as hell got a good laugh and actually refused to order me a second one when it came time for the next round. Some other, fairly non-descript beer magically appeared (thankfully not a Budweiser). After many goodbyes we all finally piled into cabs and I made it home to Wimbledon (thankfully two others were going there too).

Then with just two paltry hours of sleep, grabbed my very cumbersome bags and dragged them two blocks up to the train station. Talk about feeling like an over-packed, overtired camel. Hell, if I could moan like Zurich did in the Sahara, I would have been doing it. I imagine this would have aroused some serious glances in my direction but not too many people were awake at that hour so I didn’t have to embarrass myself too badly on my trek. Although at one change of trains a man felt so bad for me he carried one of my bags up the stairs. Overall, I felt quite proud and accomplished when I finally did reach the airport and got myself a cart (thank god!). Just so you can imagine what I must have looked like, I was carrying my big backpack, a duffel bag full of stuff, a book bag type backpack and a drum. All of this got carried down a road, through a tunnel and up some stairs to a train station and then through two tube station changes and finally to the airport cart. Of course, none of the lines were right next to each other and all of them required either walking up and down a couple flights of stairs or down into the bowels of the tube lines. Thankfully most of the sweat that had been pouring down my face was gone by the time I reached check-in so only a couple of sweat drops landed on my ticket as I handed it over to the agent. She only slightly looked at me with the question of, “Does this girl really belong in business class and how do I manage to bump her back to economy?” Actually she was VERY helpful and kind and wouldn’t let me touch my bag once I had set it down even though it needed to go over to “odd shaped luggage” and no porter was coming to help her.

I probably don’t need to tell you about the plane ride. It was fairly uneventful. Used miles to buy my ticket so again had the benefit of flying business class (as noted above). Safely tucked into my chair, and completely exhausted, I had a celebratory mimosa, followed by warmed nuts, a fillet with asparagus, a selection of local cheeses and a glass or port to ensure I would in fact fall right to sleep (as if there was any doubt about that after the previous night of no sleep). And, well, that was about it. Slept a bit, watched a movie, read about five pages in my book, and we were there! Fortunately, instead of having to return to reality right away I was whisked off from the airport to Carmel for a family get together and a week of acclimation. The coast was, well, foggy and then foggy again but I had a wonderful time seeing everyone and getting to re-meet my niece, even though I don’t think she is too sure about her “auntie softphie” even though I got strong armed (by her cuteness, of course) into getting watering can after watering can of water for her from the ocean. It was a nice week and a good way to come back.

So, where am I now? Well, partially on a the blow up bed in my dad’s office and party on various peoples couches and spare beds and, right now, in New York for a job interview. Other than bouncing about a bit, I am seriously wondering how the hell I acquired so much junk. In looking at what I left behind as “need right when I get back” I am very curious where the hell my mind was. Boots, in the middle of summer? Even if it was spring I probably wouldn’t need boots. And well, the clothes that got left out – huh? Other than half of them no longer fitting, I am really questioning what I am doing owning all this junk. My storage container was an even better eye opener…not sure what half of it is and why it did not hit the garbage bin when I left. Hell, maybe when I open it up, really open it up, I will be pleasantly surprised and happy that I have all this stuff but I am really not too sure about that. Even though I did acquire a bunch more stuff along my trip, I really have also realized how little we need in life to be happy. Does one really need to own 50 shirts for working out and 100 pairs of shoes? OK, so that is an exaggeration but that is what I feel like I have.

So, that now, since we are the junk subject, brings me to the sinking ships subject….wondering what that one is all about aren’t you. You are probably assuming that my sinking ship is in reference to the fact that I have finally returned to the US and am now mired in a job search. Or, it could refer to me having been on a ship that sank (nope, not the case). Possibly it is in reference to me feeling like my life ship is sinking (also not the case). In fact, the reference to the sinking ship is in regards to the MSC Napoli, a 68,000 ton tanker/cargo ship that left South Africa on the 21st of December and due to unfortunate circumstances is now stranded off the coast of England in Devon AND was carrying some more of my STUFF! Since my package was not there when I arrived home, I decided to do a little search. It did have my Maasai warrior spear and my two geoffries (giraffes) in it after all.

After an inquiry to the South African post office, I found the date that the package left South Africa and the name of the ship. So, out of sheer curiosity, I decided to type in “MSC Napoli” into Google to see what came up. And boy, what did I get??? Article after article about the troubles the stricken cargo ship has faced. Apparently it was sliced open during a heavy storm, then when they tried to tow it, more problems arose, a few containers fell off as the ship listed and it sounds like several more storms have hit during the attempt so save the rest of the cargo and get the ship beached. The containers that came ashore have also been looted so it is now quite a mess. What has been salvaged has been carried to Antwerp to be moved to another ship where, hopefully, my STUFF is now located and continuing its voyage home. I am really hoping that this is the case as I would quite like to see my geoffries again. Either that or, I hope they can swim!

Well then, there you have it. All done! But before I really go, for all of you, be well, be safe, travel everywhere you can (safely) and remember to cherish your friends and family and those that love you and that you love and the experiences you have with them as they can never be replace and will carry on with you forever.

Oh, gosh, I had to end on a sappy note didn’t I? So, then, where shall we go next?????

SEA, SAND AND SWEETS

Before I head off to Sousse, I think I should mention the magic of the Call to Prayer. The first time I heard it was in 1994 when I was in Turkey. I had no idea what it was or what was going on. All I knew is that it was 5:30am, I had just gotten off a 24+ hour horrendous bus ride from Athens, followed by a tram into the old quarter of Istanbul, the city was lit by the hazy glow of the sun starting to come up then this deep voice boomed out of nowhere, followed by another and another and another and...you get the point. It was amazing. Complete silence then this chant coming at you from all angles and in all different tones and cadences. I have not forgotten that moment and each time I enter a country that has the Call to Prayer, I listen for it, and mostly, I am disappointed as nothing has yet rivaled the Call in Istanbul.

The reason for that big long story above is that the Call in Kairouan was pretty close. Given that it is the fourth most holly city after Mecca, I would hope that it was nice - it was more than nice. Jules and I had just returned to the room and were getting ready for bed when it rang out across the city. It started with one guy, who got through a couple of lines before the next guy started out and then the next, and the next, and the...again, you get the point. It was a lengthy call with many, many muezzins (the callers) going all at once, for several minutes, and as started, it finished with one last caller's voice echoing through the night air. They all have a slightly different flourish to the way the give the call, which makes the sound all that much more magical and beautiful. It was fun, in some of the previous cities, to try to pick out the ones calling and determine if it was the same man as the day before but this one was so joined and melodious that everyone blended into one beautiful song.

OK, enough of the Call, back to heading to Sousse. Of the coastal cities visited in Tunisia, Sousse was probably my least favorite as it was crawling with tourists. However, it's proximity to Kairouan and to El-Jem (roman ruins) made it a good stop for us. It has a lovely stretch of coast and a nice promenade along that but it is also lined with large hotels for the European package holiday tourist. For them, Sousse is probably a little gem. Lots of beach, close to a couple of historical sites and, in its own right, an attraction with a very large ancient medina. For Jules and I, it was too crowded and all of the things they were selling in the souq were pretty trashy and of poor quality. It also included lots of touts trying to get you to stop in their store or restaurant or just decided that walking with you and talking at you was a good idea. When you tried to explain you didn't really want to chat with them, they tended to go off about how grumpy and angry of a person you are. Hmmm, wonder why I am grumpy and angry? Maybe it is because YOU have been following me for the past 10 minutes nagging at me and, well, I really don't want to talk to you, nor do I like you! Didn't say that but sure as hell thought it. Well, OK, so I did say something along those lines at one point but that was back in Jerba when Sus, Jules and I were all getting leered at by two guys who kept trying to jump into our conversation and were saying things like "So, do you like Tunisia? Do you like Tunisian men?". At which point, I said "Love Tunisia, but no, don't really like the Tunisian men!" In response to "Why?" I started with, "Oh, where do I begin...Let me tell you..." At which point Jules and Sus were laughing hysterically and I think they walked out a bit flustered.

OK, again back to Sousse. Day 1 was spent wandering the promenade and having a sit on the beach and a beer in one of the restaurants across from the beach with a view of the water. We had a great little restaurant just below our hotel, so we didn't have to go on a big long quest for food that night. Although, we did turn up about 9:00pm and our options were limited to merguez (spicy sausage) or chicken couscous. We settled on the merguez couscous and were just expecting a bowl of that but out came a bean dipping dish and a tomato/eggplant/potato type dish. Both were quite nice. The couscous was followed up with fresh strawberries and mint tea. We went home quite stuffed. For a country where I find it hard to get food, I do seem to be eating a lot and feeling very stuffed most of the time. Think it might be that the portions are quite large and very greasy so stick with you for a while.

The next day we headed to El-Jem. There is nothing much to the city proper but it has an amazing Roman amphitheater that is considered one of the best preserved in the world. It is 148m long by 122m wide and reached about 35m high. It is estimated that it could seat 35,000 people. Supposedly, back in the day, it was connected to Mahdia (a coastal town) by tunnel. It is suspected that the usual gladiator fights and chariot races were held here and the underground tunnels and holes where they lifted the lions and other dangerous animals up into the stadium are still intact and well defined. It was also, supposedly, the last stand for a Berber queen (can't remember her name) and it is rumoured that she taunted her attackers with fresh fish from the coast, which she obtained through the tunnel way to Mahdia. I am sure you are all very excited by all these details, right? Suffice it to say, it was a very spectacular amphitheater, almost as good as the one in Rome!

We spent a few hours there before heading back for an afternoon at the beach in Sousse. Unfortunately, by the time we got back, the wind had picked up and the glassy smooth Med was no longer glassy smooth but looking shockingly similar to the Pacific on a light day. We did give it our best effort to sit on the beach for a bit but as the sun started to dip, the wind felt a little too cool and it just really wasn't warm enough to want to take a dip in the sea. We headed back to the Medina and decided to see what they had on offer in Sousse for us silly tourists. We tired quickly of that junk and the annoying shop-keepers who called out from every angle, so we took a little wander, and, well, got lost in the prostitutes quarters. We were simply trying to follow the wall back around to our hotel and came to a section that was a little divided off by another wall. We didn't think anything about as there were no indications of anything strange. A couple of young men did try to stop us and chat but if they were trying to warn as that we were going in a wrong direction, there approach was not very helpful. They weren't exactly saying, "excuse me, you don't want to go there." but were saying, "Excuse me, Hello, Hello, Excuse me, You from where?" Which is pretty much what all the annoying people on the beach and shop keepers say.

So, we ignored them, carried on walking and went through this twisty little bit straight into the whore houses. It did take us a couple of minutes to get this sorted as the women weren't really out on the streets, or maybe they were and we were just so engrossed in our conversation that we didn't notice. A man coming up the street tried to communicate something and got enough across that we stopped, looked about a bit and realized that down the alley way were several women in various states of undress leaning out their doors...think I should probably say that they looked a little more like they were sticking their bellies out the doors but that does not provide a nice image. OK, it wasn't a nice image and they were fairly tatty looking women. We did a quick about face, laughed, oh'd, then the man laughed and smiled, and we walked back the direction (directly!) we had come in from. Of course, now that we were looking around, we noticed quite a number of women just sitting in their doorways. We both still swear that these women were not there when we walked in...maybe they popped out to check out the stupid lost foreign girls. I think we were most surprised to discover this area existed as you really don't think about them in Muslim countries.

After a few more wrong turns and twists, we made it to the other side of the prostitutes quarter and back to the wall and our hotel. Quick kebab for dinner (something a little light, eh?) where we had to negotiate the price back down to something reasonable, but still got ripped off. It is very annoying having to do this every time and my vow not to eat in restaurants that don't post a menu and prices, still holds. Clearly I didn't follow that rule in this case but when we complained, the waitress took a little pity on us and said something to the cook/cashier, who then lowered the price a bit, but not quite to local standards. Funny how you end up arguing over pennies in these countries. It really isn't so much the money as the point that they are totally taking us. Jules and Sus even paid 20DT to get from the airport to the city center in Tunis and on the way out, Jules and I paid 5DT for the same ride. I am sure they do this in the US too but I cannot imagine it is as bad.

The next morning, we headed back out to the Louage station, where the driver tried to rip us off. Told us that we had to pay for our bags to be put in the back, at which point, Jules and I just said, "No". The driver was a little surprised, wrinkled his brow at us and again said, "1DT per bag". Again we said, "No!" He did ask why and we just simply said, "There is no charge for bags. No." He said, "Oui, 1DT", at which point I just blurted out a long rambling speech on how we had never paid before, we had been in the country for two weeks, there was no charge for bags and we weren't going to start paying it now. I think he gave up cause at that point, he laughed a bit, smiled and gestured for us to put our bags in the bus. I have no doubt that he did not understand a single word I said, but I am quite positive that he understood that neither Jules nor I were going to give him any more money. Otherwise, uneventful Louage ride to Hammamet.

Hammamet was, and is, a lovely place. I think it was probably the nicest beach that we stopped at, but then again, it isn't known for being particularly historical. It does have a very charming medina/fort right on the ocean but it is quite small and takes only a matter of minutes to wander through. Fortunately we were there pre-package holiday tours kicking in and the North beach was relatively empty. Also, it wasn't really the weather for beaching it and in fact, rained for much of the late afternoon we were there. Given that the weather wasn't fantastic, Jules and I settled on getting massages and taking a wander down the beach and through town. We were having a lovely afternoon until we got the nasty waiter from hell. I was just getting up to go look at the menu billboard at the entrance when the waiter came to our table and asked what we wanted. We replied, "a menu" at which point he rattled off a bunch of items. I said that I still wanted to look at it. I remembered there being quite a few more things on the list when we had looked at the sign earlier. He walked off in a huff (oh, this is all after we had sat there for 15 minutes waiting for someone to even acknowledge that we had come in and sat down). I looked at the menu board, and yes, they did have a nice tea/cookie combo that sounded lovely. We waited about another 10 minutes before he came back and this is post walking over to the table behind ours, whipping it off, dropping the tray on it with a loud clatter, wandering over to another table close by, sorting some chairs out and then coming back to us. We asked for the tea/cookie combo and he said, "No. Don't have it" so we asked for just mint tea, to which we got, "No. Don't have it". We have tea au pignon (tea with pine nuts). We said that was fine, but we didn't want the pine nuts (they put them in after and in this restaurant it even looked like they were just giving little dishes of them for you to put in yourself). He said "No." We tried again and asked if he could just leave the pine nuts out. He said, "No. Don't have it. Only tea au pignon." Do you think he was trying to get rid of us? Well, it worked. We got up an walked out. I really think had we asked for a tea au pignon, he would not have had that either. It is too bad really has it was in the best location around, right where the bay and the sea met with a nice view over the local beach and then across to the South Beach (the area covered with REALLY expensive hotels). We settled for a tea elsewhere.

Having re-fortified ourselves and taken another wander to a different part of town, we decided that it was time to celebrate the evening with a beer. Thought it would be easy in Hammamet since there are so many tourists, thus a lot more places with beer. In fact, we were sure that we had seen people drinking beer earlier. Apparently this was not the case and it was much more difficult than expected. So, given that we only had two more nights in Tunisia, we decided, hell, why not just go into one of those men only bars and have a beer. We had seen one earlier that looked quite nice with windows and nice tiling and a menu outside and that did not look seedy so we wandered back to that. The waiter welcomed us right in with a big smile, which helped it not feel so awkward and in fact, felt down right OK. We settled on a table by the window, one because it was in the nicer part of the bar and next to a window and two because it looked safe and far enough from everyone else. We didn't get hassled too much, which was nice but did get lots of looks. The worst was a Tunisian teacher who supposedly lived in Brussels that kept coming over and trying to get us to join him and his five other teacher friends. One of which supposedly taught English. Jules kept politely declining (he was quite smitten with her) and he finally said, but don't just tell me you are going to come over and not come. Jules replied that in fact she had told him she was not going to and again, no, I am not going to join you ever this evening. At which point, he picked up her hand and kissed it while she tried very hard (unsuccessfully) not to cringe and turn her head away while he did it.

Our waiter was so attentive that we ended up at beer three realizing that we were quite hungry and needed to get some food. Problem solved by our waiter who simply ran me out to the restaurant next door and handed me a menu. So we stayed and continued to have a fine time sitting there watching the goings on of the men and eating a great ojj dish (tomato sauce, merguez and egg with bread to slurp it up). There were definitely some characters there and it was quite amusing to create stories about them and why they looked so glum and alone or how that old guy in the corner with the ski cap on was really going to finish his entire bottle of wine and still walk home (he apparently did - well, finish it that is, not sure about the getting home).

On the way back to the hostel, we stopped for an ice cream and begun our 24 hour sweet fest. It was quite amazing chocolate cherry and after finishing, we vowed that for breakfast the next morning, we were going to have another cone (it was my B-day so I figured we could get away with it). Unfortunately that didn't happen however we did start the day with cake. Yum!

So, I see I am now suddenly at the next day. Woke up to the beautiful blue Med right off the balcony (OK, there was a street in the middle and then some beach but what can I do...I could still see it and boy it was beautiful!). While I was off showering, Jules took the cake out of the bag and shoved her mag-lite (top taken off) in the center. When I came back into the room, she burst into song and handed me the cake with candle. Very sweet and also very funny. Biggest candle I have ever had in a cake. As we had taken the cake out, there wasn't much else to do but have it for breakfast along with the watermelon we had bought the day before. It was all quite tasty and we sat outside on our balcony enjoying the food and the view.

I was hoping for a swim in the sea before going back to Tunis but that wasn't to be as the weather remained uncooperative. It was fairly windy out and well, not hot enough to want to go running into the sea and have the wind freeze you when you came out. So we opted for a walk back to the snotty water-side restaurant in the hopes that it might get a little warmer and inspire us to go for a swim. We got a nice waiter this time so we stayed for a cuppa and then, as promised, tried to go back for an ice cream. No such luck, they were open, but well, not really open. Doors were unlocked but no one seemed to be around, nor did they come when we called. Oh well...when we stopped back by an hour later, the woman was in but the ice cream wasn't and she really had to think quite hard about what time she opened. Clearly it is a case of open whenever you feel like it. Never did get the swim in as the wind picked up and well, we wanted to get back to Tunis to see a few more things and to get out to Sidi Bou Said, an white washed city on the coast just outside Tunis.

We made it back to Tunis in no time, which was fab as we were running short on time for what we wanted to accomplish. Dropped our bags at the hostel and headed off for the Hammam. Depending on what you have already read of my blog, you will know that I already had quite the hamman experience. Well, this one was a bit different, which is a good thing. This one was a little less on the loofah the body until the skin peels off and a little more on the lovely heated marble slab in the middle of the room. My favorite Hammam is still in Istanbul where you get a nice gentle loofah, massage, hair and body wash AND a spectacular headed marble slab to relax on. This one was not bad though and supposedly was even featured in some movie. We had a bit of a tough time communicating what we wanted as the women only spoke Arabic but soon enough we were stripped down, washing and getting a loofah. She was no less gentle than the last lady but not nearly as thorough. Personally, I think we got a bit ripped off as she was quite quick but I think my skin is probably happy that it didn't have to take another beating. We spent a fair bit of time on the hot marble slab chatting away and then packed up to head out to Sidi Bou Said.

It seems that every time we headed out this direction, the clouds and rain started to pile in. Sidi Bou Said is just past Carthage and the day was much the same as the day we went to Carthage...bit rainy and cloudy and sunny and rainy and cloudy again. The city is a big draw as it is perched on top of the cliffs overlooking a nice little beach and surrounded by views of the sea. It is very much like a Greek island city with white washed buildings and blue shutters and doors, brillant colored flowers spilling over the sides of balconies and walls. Basically, lovely. After a quick wander, we settled in to a cafe, with view, of course and ordered up a couple of mint teas and a sheesha pipe. Again, lovely. It was only slightly sprinking and mostly just cloudy so still quite enjoyable - well mostly. A little storm pocket did whip through with quite a bit of wind and rain. We were about to put up an umbrella but realized that would just get whipped away when the waiters came down, grabbed out sheeshe and teas and brought us up to an upper deck part, which well, had no shelter either. It looked like they were just going to place us next to the wall to block the wind a bit so Jules and I took matters in our own hands and stepped into a little storage alcove thing and settled right down on some straw mats. It had a lovely view as well and was much more sheltered than where we had previously sat, so, we ordered another tea and carried on for another hour. The waiters all found this quite funny. That and the fact that we really do not manage to smoke the sheehsa with much style of panache and they kept having to come over and get it going again. They did this with big smiles so it can't have been too bad. We were having fun, and well, that is all that mattered.

When we tired of that and our tummies started making themselves known, we headed back into Tunis for our farewell dinner. Where else would we go but the nice little restaurant Carcassone (mentioned a few entries earlier). They greeted us warmly and we ordered up their massive (enormous would be a better word) lamb couscous and creme caramel and had a grand dinner before ending it all with a couple of beers and some VERY, VERY good people watching in the local cafe/bar. My sides hurt from all of the food, beer and laughing by the time we left and headed back.

Our hostel owner was a bit of a git though when we got back and told us he needed us to move rooms because he had a big group coming in. He said he had a great big nice room for us to move to - or, really, the conference room with two bench seat like bed things made up in the corner. Now adept at saying "No" on a regular basis, we both looked at him and simply said, "NO". He tried to explain that it was a fine place and he would give us a key to the door and we both said, "NO!" then, "The room is not nice." and carried off back to our own room, which was actually quite pleasant (that is until the Tunisian guy in the room across from us started chatting on his cell phone all night and smoking - but my earplugs kept me from most of that and poor Jules was up half the night). Now, my question is, and I actually know the answer, why move us? There were four other double rooms in the place, one of which had only one person and he was the smoking/talking Tunisian guy. Pretty much, we figure that we were women and so could be inconvenienced to move. We also think he was trying to squeeze in a Japanese couple that had just arrived (they were sitting in the lobby) and who were going to stay more than one night. Oh well, first come first serve and damn it, I am not sleeping in a conference room on my birthday after having just had a nice day!

Oh, before I go, two things, flew out of Tunisia the next day, without a hitch, OK there was a bit of confusion about who was going to take us as no one really seemed to want the foreigners in their cab and finally one guy asked us if we even needed a cab. We looked at each other and him like he was crazy. Who the hell stands out next to a taxi rank with a big backpack on, in the rain, if they don't need a taxi?????? Huh???? Yes, of course we need a taxi!!!!! So, got the taxi and go there much cheaper than Sus and Jules had come in (mentioned before, I know, just rubbing it in if Jules and Sus are reading). AND, two, I did get another yummy Italian ice cream before I left (forgot to mention that) - Chocolate Fondant (heaven!). So basically, I ate sweets for my meals the entire day before. Had to add that as I knew you were just so worred that I didn't get another ice cream...

CARPETS AND TEA GALORE

Kairouan, the forth holiest site after Islam (has the Great Mosque, the oldest in North Africa as well as Bir Barouta, a well that is said to be connected to Mecca) and probably the most local feeling place that we visited in Tunisia – oh and the major carpet producing city of Tunisia. While the big package tour buses did come in, they stayed only a couple hours leaving the city void of tourists by mid-day and us free to wander and get a sense for this quaint little city. We arrived around 5:00 after our 4-5 hour louage ride from Jerba so we were a bit worn and dusty and tired feeling and really not sure what kind of hassle we might get in this new place. In fact, it was fairly hassle free and we settled into the hotel before heading off for a wander through the city. Well, not so true, our first goal was to find an Italian gelato place that was supposed to be located in the nouveau village section. It, as would seem to be the case when we want ice cream, was closed. Ice cream free, we headed back into the medina and began a wander through the narrow twisty back streets. The town was full of wonderful doors in blue and green with fantastic iron designs on them and little sweets shops around every corner. Many of the doors in the streets were open and inside working away were shoe makers, furniture carvers and rug weavers. On the streets, the locals were out buying bread and fruit and going about their evening businesses having a chat and a laugh and it had such a nice wonderful feel to it.

Since we had actually managed to eat well the past few days and were loaded up with grease filled sandwiches from that afternoon, we decided to make a sort of picnic thing to eat on the terrace of our hotel (LP said there was a terrace). This turned into quite a little treasure hunt as we decided that we wanted some of the lovely strawberries that seemed to be everywhere, peaches, cheese, yogurt, bread and tomatoes. No problem getting the bread (vendors on the street everywhere with wonderful fresh stuff), fruit and yogurt but good cheese and tomatoes seemed to be a bit more challenging. We ended up with a pull tab tin of Austrian processed cheese spread (thought it would be better than the laughing cow triangles) and after much searching, four lovely tomatoes (and a cucumber!).

We had seen the tomatoes a little earlier in one of the back streets and were not quite sure exactly where. None of the main fruit vendors seemed to have tomatoes and after several tries, we decided to ask the bread vendor. When I told him I was looking for a tomato, he just about died laughing. Apparently this was a very bizarre request. So, we carried on and tried asking another vendor, who also laughed. We then tried a nice woman walking with her daughter and held up the other produce that we had purchased hoping to give a better indication of what we were after. She understood but couldn’t help. It was about this point that one of the annoying shop guys appeared to try and drag us into his store. As we looked a bit confused, he said, “are you looking for something?” and I simply replied, “oui, je cherche un tomate” (yes, I am looking for a tomato). He was quite stunned and confused by this and immediately fell into silence. We escaped. Hmmm, what a great way to get rid of these guys, eh? For once I was actually looking for something but apparently something so confusing it completely baffled these guys. It continued to baffle as we had a couple more shop keepers try to get us into the stores and each time we replied with the “je cherche un tomate” (my spelling is probably totally wrong with that so I am sorry) they would look at us blankly and we would escape. Note to self, always request something that they won’t have or be able to find for you and you gain a few seconds to escape!

Tomato goal achieved, we headed back to the hotel to enjoy the lovely evening on the terrace. Well, the hotel guy looked at a bit odd when we asked to go to the terrace but he brought us up there anyway. Turned out to be a great place to hang laundry and not much of a terrace but hell, it was outside, away from hassle and had a nice view over the city. The hotel guy was quite charming and quite taken with Jules and set us up with a nice little table of stacked bricks, a couple of chairs and then, most wondrously, appeared with a small pot of tea to go with our meal. It was quite a grease free meal and quite lovely!

The next day we decided to tackle the carpet shops and see exactly what Kerouaine had to offer. They actually did have quite a number of nice carpets to look at ranging from Kilims to silk Persian carpets. Many of them were quite nice. Our challenge was not just to find a carpet and get it at a good price but also to see how many glasses of mint tea we could squeeze out of them. Think we managed about five through the course of three stores. It is quite q nice way to refresh yourself when you are tired. In one store we actually felt quite bad though as the guy was really trying to find a carpet for us and we just did not like a single thing that he had. No matter what he brought out we had to say, “sorry, don’t like it” and he would scurry off to find something else. He did look a bit depressed when we left without even contemplating a price on a single one.

We even managed lunch in one of the carpet shops – with our own food that is. However it was very gracious of them as we had not bought anything yet and after I did, they were not very happy with me, or at least appeared to be unhappy as they do…Jules did a fab job of negotiating her carpet and even had me feeling uncomfortable. It appeared to be the battle of who could remain silent for the longest period of time and Jules clearly won as she walked out with the carpet for less than half of what he was asking even after he had done a start off reduction. Basically she just stalemated him and I don’t think he was used to it. The conversation went something like this:

“OK, 250DT”
“hmm, no, I was thinking more like 80DT”

Silence, Silence Silence, more silence…steph feeling uncomfortable and really hoping someone would say something soon!

Carpet Guy: “OK, I can go 220DT”
Jules: “No, too high, how about 100DT”

Silence

Carpet Guy: “100! 180 does not even cover the cost of the materials, let alone the labor”

Silence, Silence, Silence…me uncomfortable again…

Jules: “Hmmm”…Silence
Carpet Guy: “OK, 150DT”
Jules: “No, still too high…110DT?”

Silence…carpet guy caves, come across room and says, 120DT?
Jules: OK

Carpet guy then had the audacity to ask Jules to give him a tip for the wrapping and folding of the carpet…as if he still did not make a pretty penny!

After that, it was time for some sweets from the sweet shop and then another Louage off to our next destination…back to the coast and the beautiful Med.

LAND OF STAR WARS AND LOTUS EATERS

So, well, where did we leave off? I believe it was with Sus and Jules’ arrival and our planned trip to Carthage, that most famous of cities. It is only a short train ride outside of Tunis so extremely accessible and convenient. It covers an area of about two kilometers along the coast and some bit inland, which I do not have the exact details on. The main bit, central, forum area is called Brysa Hill and commands spectacular views (excellent views seem to be a thing in Tunisia) along the coast. There is not much remaining of the ruins in general and sadly, they are spread quite far apart and surrounded by modern buildings and neighborhoods, which means you have to pick your way through neighborhoods to get to the parts you really came to see. This is not meant to be picking at Carthage and saying that it is not an absolutely phenomenal place, because it really is extremely amazing. Thankfully they have done a few models of what it must have looked like so you don’t have to completely use your imagination, and WOW! We didn’t have enough time to see the entire thing and the weather was not quite cooperating so tromping two kilometers and zigzagging back and forth in the rain that kept appearing did not sound like such a fab idea so we settled on sticking pretty close to the center section and doing a good job of checking those bits out before we had to head back to catch our overnight but.

What we did see though, was:
-A lovely amphitheater surrounded by a wooded area that was once one of the largest in the Roman Empire, holding 36,000 spectators.
-Cisterns that held the Carthaginians’ water supply and, I believe were the third largest in their time. As cisterns go, they were most certainly the most impressive ones that I have ever seen and probably ever will see.
-A reconstructed Roman Villa with views that beat just about anything I have ever seen. Hell, the house didn’t seem too shabby either with a lovely courtyard, mosaics and all. The scattering of chipped and broken statues didn’t hurt the ambiance any either.
-The Antionine Baths (old Roman baths) located right on the sea edge. It was the largest outside of Rome with a 22m by 42m frigidarium (cold room) in the center. Most of it has crumbled but you can still wander around the underground portion of it and see how high the floor must have been. One lone column has been resurrected and it reaches 15m high. This was, for me, by far one of the most amazing places on the visit.

After our wander and getting a bit damp, we headed back in to Tunis to shift gears and head for the overnight but. Definitely not one of the better overnight bus journeys but really, you never expect them to be all that great anyway. The driver had a nasty habit of speeding up and then slamming on his breaks, pitching us forward and almost off the seats onto the floor. Oh, should explain that we did get lucky in that all three of us had two seats to ourselves, which is why we were almost pitched onto the dirty sticky floor as we could actually lie down a bit. While I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep, I did learn that, yes, in fact, I could curl up completely on two seats and only have my head a touch in the aisle (it only got smacked a couple of times). I believe I gave Sus a bit of a shock when we had a pee/food break in the middle of the night and well, the line for the women’s bathroom was just a bit too long so, what could I do but sneak on into the men’s toilet. Clearly it was unoccupied at the time so no fear of bumping into anyone, just the shock factor for all the nice little Muslim women queued up. I do realize that this was not quite the appropriate behavior but given that there were four women ahead of Sus and I, and they were all looking at each other waiting and rattling the door handle in hopes that whoever was in there would come out, it did not seem promising that I would be peeing any time soon unless I took matters into my own hands. That said, I ducked right in and right out before the woman came out and was back on the bus trying to get a quick nap in before the driver took over again and had us tossing about.

Our destination, which I do not believe I mentioned yet, was Tatouine, a little town in the middle of nowhere but surrounded by Ksours (fortified Berber strongholds consisting of many ghorfas (literally, room; especially a long, barrel-vaulted room built to store grain). Both Jules and I were quite sure that we needed and wanted to head to this town but upon arrival at 5:30am, we became quite uncertain what in the world we were doing there. We had just sat down in the bus station waiting room, opened our Lonely Planets and read, “There’s no photogenic medina to explore and little to recommend this town…” followed by how grim accommodations in the town were. Not a bonus at 5:30 and we both thought, huh, and then voiced “Why are we here again?” Sus was not particularly pleased by this as we had dragged her out there and assured her that there was quite a bit to see and do. In fact, we did find a nice little hotel that was not at all grim AND there was quite a bit to do in the area. When I say “quite q bit” I mean many, many ksuors to go see.

We took a bit of a nap and then headed out to face the world. After debating tourist vehicle or taxi, we negotiated a taxi for a few hours to take us to Chenini, Ksar Ouled Debbab, Ksar Ouled Soltane and Douiret. They were all quite different in feel and levels of repair (or disrepair). The first one we visited was being converted into a four start hotel of sorts, which is probably a good thing as it looks as thought it might have been a bit of a circus environment before. There were a number of fiberglass dinosaurs about that appeared to be in various stages of disrepair, a few missing limbs. At one point, we opened a large door (clearly an entrance or exit at one point) which lead to a few more dying and falling apart dinosaurs and rows and rows of these ghorfas. It was like walking out of the modern world back in time to a deserted city. Our next Ksar was completely abandoned and wonderful to wander about. The homes were carved out of the sides of the mountain and crept up to the very top, which looked like a bit of a crumbling castle. Our taxi driver had grown up there, which was quite nice, as he took us on quite the little tour about the city and showed us his old house as well as gave us a bit of history on the place (all in French, of course). After that, we went off to a ksar that was mostly abandoned but in which a few people still lived and finally we ended with a much re-constructed one that had some fantastic ghorfas for us to poke about.

We finished the day, as usual, trying to find somewhere appropriate for women to sit and eat dinner, which we found after a few tries and several streets later. Lovely restaurant owner, again, people here are wonderfully friendly in the right places and we had a tasty roast chicken dinner. Oh, I should in fact mention that the name of the city, Tatouine, is in fact the inspiration for the name of where Luke Skywalker is from.

My, I have forgotten one very special thing about Tatouine…it is famous for Corne de Gazelle, a cookie that could just about kill you with sugar and oil. While it seems near impossible to get a sit down meal in a little restaurant without it being packed with men, sweets appear to be quite easy to get your hands on. This cookie is absolutely insane…the insides are chopped up almonds, sugar and sesame wrapped with a dough, deep fried for 10 minutes and then soaked in honey for 20. Divine, assuming you only have one, well, one a day that is! Thankfully they turned out to have a wider range than just Tatouine and we at them throughout the trip. Since I am on about food, I probably should mention that we did manage to figure out the food system and get fed quite well. The little stand-up fast food shops proved to be quite safe but limited to shwarma/kebab sandwiches, pizza, tuna sandwich things and roast chicken with frites. While generally tasty, they really greasy and prove to be a bit tiresome after a couple of days. Oh, and the tuna in Tunisia, is all canned.

The next day, we headed off to Matmata, a city famous for its Troglodyte (Berber underground dwellings) as well as for being the setting for Luke Skywalker’s home planet. They filmed some scene there in one of the dwellings, which is the main reason that most people trek out to this little town in the middle of nothing. It took a couple of Louages (shared mini-van things) to get there but we made it mostly without incident. We did have a moment when coming out of the gas station, the back doors to the van flew open and out went Jules’ bag and up went our voices as we went, “AAAGGGGHHHHH” not knowing the words for, “My bag has fallen out the back!” in French. The city really did not have much to offer but a few crater like holes in the ground with rooms/dwellings off of them and the Star Wars set place. We basically faffed about, had a beer at the Star Wars bar and then settled in to our little cave room.

The cave hotel was quite charming but did have a few tour groups tromp through who all found us quite a novelty. I think we were the only people staying there as high season hasn’t quite started up yet. At one point an entire group of Tunisians came through and we invited a couple of the women peeking in to step in further and have a look and before we knew it, the entire group was piling on in and asking us who we were and where we were from. Felt a little like a caged animal. Even more so when one of the women came back in and said, “Which one is the American?” and Sus and Jules pointed at me and she checked me out a bit, then said, “OK” and walked out.

Dinner was included with our hotel room that night and for being the only guests they sure put out quite a spread. We had a table set out down in our little crater hole under the stars. They started us off with a lovely tomato based soup followed by a briq (egg fried in a pastry type empanada shaped thing). After that we had a massive bowl of lamb couscous that we barely made a dent in and finally several little cookie things that were fried honey dough stuff stuffed with fig compote. It was lovely to have a nice relaxed dinner and not have to worry about where it would be and if it was an OK place for us.

We headed off fairly early the next day to the little island oasis of Jerba. It was about four hours away so we wanted to get in early enough to enjoy the afternoon and have a couple more good days after that as Sus had to head out that Sunday. Another fairly uneventful Louage trip although we did seem to have an excessive amount of police checks. It got more and more excessive as we got closer to the island, which did seem a bit odd. At the ferry landing we were stopped three times in a matter of ½ mile for police ID checks. It wasn’t really clear what was going on as they didn’t really seem to look at them very intently and no one seemed to be in charge of anything. The best we could make out was, despite all the uniforms being rather ill fitting, that the men with the poorly cut, too big, leather jackets and knee high boots (very Gestapo looking) were more important than the ones without the jacket. We did get honored, at the final check, by a man we think was a very very very important member of the force rather than just the very very important leather clad members. He had the leather AND a very bright white patent leather sash/belt thing, two badges and a nice pair of Ray Bans on. We found out later that it was some Jewish pilgrimage week and that several years ago there had been a bombing during this time so they are a bit cautious about it now.

In Jerba we opted to stay in the city center area, Houmt Souq. We stayed in an old funduq, or old lodging house for the traveling merchants and their camel caravans. Despite Lonely Planet describing Jerba as Homer’s land of the Lotus Eaters, we all found it a bit tired and tatty, although still worth a visit. The city center was very much geared toward the package tour day trips from the beaches with endless souvenir stalls selling fairly sun faded and worn looking trinkets. They were worth a wander but not really worth a purchase. We stayed on Jerba for a few days just taking in the scene, wandering the city in the morning and heading to the beach in the afternoon. It was quite a lovely long stretch of beach although not the best tended for trash duty and also quite lined with large hotels for the package holiday makers. We were a bit disappointed our first day as we stopped in at the first public beach but the next day we found a much nicer spot further down, although not without a minor annoyance.

As we were on a public beach, we did not have the protection of the hotel security guards who, in a large part, keep the local Tunisian men from chatting up the tourists on the beach. The first day, we did a fair job at giving off enough evil eyes to keep them at bay but on the second day (it was just Jules and I as Sus was feeling a bit poorly) we did not do such a good job. We had decided to walk a fair bit down the beach to see what else it had to offer, which of course, meant we were prime targets for a chat up. Well, the guy did have a bit of useful info, namely that there was another public beach just a bit further down, but when he picked up his buddy along the way, we knew we might have a situation. All in all it was not too bad, more awkward. We chose a nice little palm umbrella to station ourselves under and they just sort of decided to join us. That mean that neither of us felt comfortable stripping down to our bathing suits – figured that might give them more incentive to stay. Jules opted for the “yes, I am asleep, please leave me alone” approach and I opted for the “oh, so sorry, just really want to read my book”. It seemed a pretty good tactic but alas, for some reason they still thought just sitting there was a good thing despite the fact that we were both ignoring them and when asked questions, were quite short. Finally, after about 20 minutes, they got the hint and wandered off and we were free to enjoy our afternoon. You may be asking yourself why were just didn’t tell them to bugger off, well, they were actually quite nice and had been friendly enough and seemed to just want to chat so being rude did not really seem like a nice approach and neither of us could really figure out how to politely say, “leave us alone” apart from what we were already doing. In any case, it turned out to be a lovely afternoon at the beach and the water was warm and fantastic and beautiful and everything that it should be.

Other than beach, we found a nice little restaurant to eat in where the owner adored us and was just thrilled to have some foreigners popping in each night. We did try to eat at other places but Jerba seemed to close quite early and when we did go to the other restaurants they were either down to just fish (didn’t work for me) or closed for some reason like, well, it was Saturday night – who knows! One problem might have been the fact that we had the tendency to eat quite late as we got distracted with other things in the early evening like finding a nice café tucked away from the noise where we could have mint tea and a sheesha pipe without being stared at by a large group of men. In fact, we found quite a wonderful little place with a balcony and fantastic people watching and the boys that worked there were quite happy to continually ply us with the local cookies to compliment our mint tea. All in all, quite nice!

On Sunday (last Sunday this would be), Sus had her flight out back to London leaving Jules and I with another five days or so to wander about Tunisia. The two of us headed to the louage station where we grabbed a quick kebab sandwich to go with the hope that the louage would leave soon. Unfortunately we had about a 45 minute wait before we were full of people and then the two of us got a bit ripped off with the price. Basically they wanted us to pay the entire fare up to Tunis when we were going about three hours short of Tunis. Took a bit of back and forth and Jules and I getting ready to get out of the van before he lowered it 3DT. It wasn’t quite enough but as we had already waited 45 minutes and didn’t really want to wait for another van to Kairouan or a van to take us to another city where we could switch, we decided not to be too stubborn and just stayed on board. Also, we probably would have had one hell of a time getting anything at all if we had gotten out of that louage as they all talk to each other and I think we would have been black listed. And so, off we finally went.

Just on a side note before I go, did I mention the toilets in this country? I think I may have gone a step down…well, a step down from Morocco but maybe still a step up from India. We were forced to come up with a rating system though – those that make you want to vomit and those that don’t. It was always a good feeling when one of us came back from the loo and the response was, “didn’t make me want to vomit!”

pixs from Kerkouan (punic ruines) and Bizerte

Here are some pixs that I stole from someone else so that you could see a little of what I saw.

TUNA OR TUNISIA??????

So, the question comes up if Tunisia is named after tuna or if tuna is named after Tunisia. There seems to be a plethora of this fabulous fish, my personal favorite as many of you know (note the sarcasm?) Or, maybe it is Tunisia that is named after after tuna! I personally am voting for it being tuna that is named after Tunisia. There is not a menu that I have found, well at least in my paltry five days here, that does not feature this proud, fine fish. In fact, it is near impossible to get away with ordering a sandwich, crepe or pastry/pie thing without tuna appearing in it somewhere. I have already been blesssed with it on a couple of occasions - on my first day it appeared in an empanda type thing. Feeling quite good about having managed, yet again, to communicate in French ( I am really thanking Mme. Miller these days for being such a strict French teacher in High School as I am getting by passably well in Morocco and Tunisia with my little remembered French). In any case, I cleared up right away that the pastry did not have tuna in it and was told that it was formage et salami. Sounds OK right? Well, if that was cheese and salami, they have a very interesting version of cheese and salami. First bite was OK, nothing really but their very spicy Harissa sauce. I looked inside and saw something that looked like cheese, took another bite and found it to be potato. hmmm, interesting. The next bite yielded more spicy stuff and something a little fishy, if you get my drift (hee, hee - OK bad joke). At that, I looked a little deeper into the pastry and sure enough, TUNA!

I tossed that and headed for a crepe shop where I requested a cheese crepe. The waiters was shocked that I did not want tuna and I explained that I did not eat tuna. Apparently he didn't care about that and decided to give me a crepe with tuna anyway. I returned it, and he took away the offending one, which he was more than happy to do as he just ate it and made me a new one. Since that I have managed quite well in avoiding the offending fish and have had many a pleasant meal (although a few small panic attacks with me shreaking, "wait! no thon!" as they were reaching for it> I found a fabulous little place in Tunis called Carcassone - well I didn't find it, Lonely Planet did. I went there on my first night in Tunis, second night in Tunisia. Has a great set meal for 5D and that is for three or four courses depending on if your second course has meat and veg or not. I went for the couscous so only did a three course. I ended up there my second night in Tunis as well and they recognized me from the night before and greeted me like I was family, smiled, took me back into the kitchen to taste the soup before I ordered it and showed me what the other stuff was they had on offer.

Sounds silly, I am sure, to go to the same place two nights in a row, but let me explain why. This country, like most Arab countries, is very male dominate and the restaurants are full of men. At night, the coffee houses, snack shops, bars, and restaurants are all full of men and not very welcoming for a single female. Especially a single Western female as all they do then is sit and stare at you. I am quite happy to hide behind a book but it is a little off-putting when there are 20 of them sitting there staring at you and seemingly doing nothing else. For the most part, it is also not clear what places are appropriate for me. Many of these cafes and restaurants are "men only" and so I am not even welcome in them. Apparently the women friendly places tend to be cleaner and better decorated but I have seen few of those and even fewer that have females in them at night. So, that said, after getting back late at night from the ruins in Dougga, I opted for the easy, I know it will be good, route and headed to the same restaurant. Had a fab time and another good meal. It has been extremely frustrating not being able to find places to sit and have a tea or a quick snack easily and I have already spent many an hour wandering aimlessly looking like a forlorn street urchin in search of something to fill her stomach. I am surprised that I have not begun digging through trash cans...oh, guess that would require that trash cans be available as well! At least Tunis has an amazing central market that I an escape to where I can pick up fresh bread, fruit, cheese, meat and fish. Clearly I am not picking up the fish but the cheese, fruit and bread is all quite tasty, not to mention the olives. The vendors are all also quite nice and they have let me graze my way through their stalls before deciding on my purchase. The fresh herbed ricotta cheese is to die for and with some olives, bread and strawberries, makes a fab picnic! I must say though, that I do miss all of the mint tea that I was drinking in Morocco. While do certainly do have the tea here, it is harder to come by and not nearly as tasty...besides they charge and arm and a leg and don't even give you a small silver pot of it, just a little tiny glass.

So other than scoping out the food scene, what have I been doing...I arrived in Tunisia via a night in Barcelona. Sounds stupid to go to Barcelona on the way to Tunisia given that I was in Morocco and only an hour and a half flight away but the ticket was a couple hundred dollars cheaper if I did it that way. Sure I spent a load in Barcelona, but hey, I got a night in Barcelona. I do wish I would have spent a couple of nights there but for reasons I will not bore you with, that did not happen. Turns out that it was probably for the best as the one night in Barcelona cost me about three days of living in Tunisia. The hostel was an exorbitant 22 Euros, and as they did not give sheets or blankets, I was very happy that I was still dragging along my sleep sheet. Basically the cost gave me a bed in a dorm room with a pillow and a bathroom with a shower tap like those in public toilets that you press and they run for 10 seconds then turn off. Very frustrating when you have soap in your eyes and have to find the tap again.

For as short as my time was in Barcelona, I really enjoyed it. I spent the afternoon walking around Las Ramblas checking out the street actors (incredible - I have never seen anything like it. I would have posted pixs but as I don't have a camera anymore, you will have to go there to see for yourselves). I also wandered over to a few of the Gaudi houses and churches and checked out the outsides of them. They were all closed by the time I arrived so I guess I will have to save those for another time. From the outside they looked like something from Alice and Wonderland mixed in with Nightmare Before Christmas and Dr. Suess. One of the buildings had snakes and lizards crawling down it and snails up it with spires that looked like soft serve ice cream cones with little orange gum drops dotting the sides. I still need to see Spain so figure I will be back at some point in my life anyway. I did have a plan to get up early the next morning and go out to the beach and possibly try to get into one of the buildings before I left. Apparently I was a bit more tired than I thought and I slept until 9:40 and had a checkout of 10:00 from the hotel. It was a quick up and out and then off to the airport to head to Tunisia.

Flight was uneventful and mostly empty. Headed out of the airport to take the bus into the city and ended up meeting a very nice non-traditional Tunisian woman who tipped me off to a bus that went directly from Tunis to Bizerte, the city I was planning on heading to the next day. Lonely Planet didn't mention anything about a bus from the airport to Bizerte so I assumed it was not possible and was standing outside waiting for the bus to downtown Tunis. I had asked her what time it was expected and she checked for me and told me it was about a half hour out. I decided I just might take a taxi and went across to the taxi stand where they wanted more double what it should be. I said no, they dropped it to about double and I still said not and headed back over to the bus stand. Leila (Tunisian woman) asked me what happened, I told her and she confirmed that it was WAY too much. We got to talking and that is when she mentioned she was heading to Bizerte. I decided to go straight there and as the bus to Bizerte was late, we spent a couple of hours chatting in broken French and English and have a coffee in the coffee shop.

She was an interesting woman, worked for HP, lived with her fiance (very bad thing to do here - well, really not done here) and had given up her French citizen ship to be Tunisian (I believe she was born in France but her parents are Tunisian). We had a good bus ride and when we arrived in Bizerte, she helped me find my hotel, which was a very good thing as while it was on a grid, the planners decided to throw in a number of diagonals and curvy roads just to make it more fun.

Once settled in I headed out to find something to eat (hah!). It did not go so well and the first place I had hoped to eat was completely empty inside (never a good sign) and had several grumpy looking men sitting outside scowling at me as I walked by. I didn't stop but kept walking. Target #2, I never managed to find. It might have been the conflicting directions or lack of street signs or diagonals that kept running across my path or even the annoying guy that decided that he should escort me there and chatted incessantly in my ear and then wanted to come eat with me. When I insisted that I did want to keep walking in the direction I was going, he informed me that I was not going the right direction (although he had no idea what restaurant I was looking for) and said I should go somewhere else. At that point I finally said "Please leave me alone!" and he replied "But can't I come eat with you?" Thankfully they seem to take "No" for an answer and go away.

I ended up circling back to a pizza place that I had read about (also another popular item here) and ended up either in areas with men filled cafes or down dark streets that did not look so inviting. I decided braving the men filled cafe areas was better than the dark streets and headed back up that way. As I was doing so, a nice man in a business suit asked if I needed help. I told him where I was going and he took me there "Directly!" but then had the awkward moment where I think he too was wanting to come eat dinner with me. I pretended not to understand what he was getting at and just said "Merci!" and ran off into the restaurant.
People here are very friendly and very very helpful. They actually seem to want to help you rather than bring you to their cousin's, brother's, sister's, aunt's shop or somewhere else that you don't want to go.

On my way home, I had a bit of a water mis-understanding. I stopped in a shop and asked the price and they said 3.50D (over 2USD). I said "La Shokran" (no thanks) and headed out of the store...of course I also told him that I thought that was very expensive. I was used to being told super high prices for cheap things in Morocco so assumed the same here. When I got back to the hotel, I asked the receptionist for a glass so that I could get some water ( you can drink from the taps here) and he could not understand why. I told him that water was expensive, he said "no", and then brought me back down the street with him to get the "right" price. Turns out the shopkeeper wanted 350D (that would be around 25 cents - some things are in the thousands here). I apologized, got the water and before I knew it was in a conversation about how much the guy liked Americans and how much he disliked Bush. Wasn't quite prepared for that in French so spent a lot of time saying "oui" and "non" and hoping that I was saying yes and no to the appropriate things.

The next day, I took a wander around the port city of Bizerte, seeing the kasbah, Spanish fort and beach. Bizerte was quite a lovely little city with very friendly people. Although the guides who wanted to take me on a city tour for 10-15D (USD8-12) were a little annoying as they kept saying, "Oh, that is cheap, very little money" and there really wasn't all that much that needed an explanation. the Kasbah was pretty and had tiny, windy streets with blue doors, shutters and window gratings along with some fabulous arches. It was sprinkling and a bit overcast so the streets were quite empty and lovely to wander about. The Spanish Fort, which is really Turkish, had great views out across the bay and ocean as well as the town. The med has such lovely water. The beach was fairly decent for a city beach - that is once I waded past all of the trash coating the upper part closest to the city. This isn't the main draw anyway and most people go to beaches just outside the city. It was fun to dip my toe in the sea regardless and I met a very lovely old man with one of those crinkly faces that lights up even more when smiles come upon it. He was walking down the beach shepherding his three grown camels and one baby camel. The baby was absolutely adorable and I called out to him to tell him so. At that he walked over to me with the baby camel following along side like a child clinging to its mother and fed the little beast some french fries from his sandwich. When I petted and scratched his soft brown curly head, he looked at me with those big, brown, baleful eyes and nosed my arm and nudged me with his head. So very sweet.

In the late afternoon the rain picked up so I sought shelter in the coffee shop in the Kasbah ramparts where I sucked up several mint teas (shockingly reasonably priced here), looked out over the water, listened to the pitter patter of the rain and continued to slog through my Wilbur Smith book (hope to dump that soon). When it had lightened up a bit, I headed back to the hotel to collect my belongings and head off to Tunis. I decided to walk the mile to the bus station and boy, you should have seen the looks I received. I am fascinating enough to the men here without my pack on my back but when I put that on, boy do I become some alien creature. At least it stops all the tisking and "bonjour!", "Alo!", "Ma Gazelle!" Well, not all of it, but certainly cuts down on it.

First night in Tunis was fairly uneventful. I stayed at a hotel that Lonely Planet called "An Oasis" but was actually far from that. True, the owner was very fastidious, nice and cheerful and happily gave me the largest room in the place, and charged me for it (it could take three people). After seeing what a true "single" looked like, it was probably for the best and I was much happier with that and spending the 5D more. The squat toilet could have used a few more cleanings though and the fact that I was the only female staying there and the only westerner was a little discomforting. I spent part of the night scoping out other hotels and even Lonely Planets mid-range hotels were not that great. I settled on one that was very conveniently located and seemed to have decent, clean, airy rooms. The shower turned out to be a bit of a 'thing' though. When I first checked out the place and after seeing the room and the toilet, asked to see what the shower looked like (it was outside the room), I got a very vague answer and was told to see it tomorrow when I checked in. When I checked in the next morning and asked to see the shower, I got another odd response and when I pressed it, was told that the shower was in use and to ask at night to use the shower. When I returned from Dougga that night (around 10:00) and asked to take a shower, the night guy told me to take one in the morning and said that there was no hot water. Very strange. At this point I was beginning to wonder if they even had communal showers. So, the next morning, I asked for the shower, as I had been told to do, and the morning guy told me to ask at night. I told him the night guy told me to ask in the morning and we went around in circles a bit until the guy finally said "OK" and told me that the showers were not supposed to be "Gratis" but that he would go ahead. He called one of the cleaning ladies and they had me use a shower in one of the rooms that had a private shower. I am still not clear on what was going on with the showers but it sort of made me not want to stay there after Jules had arrived, which I was planning on doing. It was a little too strange.

On my first day in Tunis, I actually left Tunis and went out to some fantastic Roman ruins in a town called Dougga. They are quite well preserved and many of them still have the mosaics on their floors. It feels strange to walk across something so old and have it still be so vibrant and beautiful and relatively intact. To imagine how long they have been there and how many feet have stepped over them is just awesome. Half of me wanted to skirt their edges and not walk on them at all for fear that another footstep would help deteriorate them even more and the other half of me loved that I could stand there in the middle of them and look at all the tiny pieces used to make such a lovely image. Of course, the best ones have been moved off to the Bardo museum in Tunis so they are well preserved. You could wander almost everywhere on the site and through most of the buildings. It was quite easy to imagine what it would have looked like and the amphitheater, that once seated 3,500 people was still mostly intact. Prosperity of the village was at its height in the 2nd to 4th centuries with an estimated 5,000 inhabitants. In fact, people were still living amongst the ruins until the mid 1950s and even today shepherds were grazing their goats and cows were roaming amongst the ruins on the edges. It was particularly lovely at the ruins right now as they were covered with yellow daisies and bright red poppies. It was absolutely stunning. Jackie, it would have been a painters dream for you - so many colors and so brilliant with the bright blue sky and ruins in the background.

It was quite impressive although made for a very long day as the bus ride was just over 2 hours and then it was another 3km from the crossroads to the site. I got lucky and as I was walking out to the site, got picked up by a lorry driver about 1/4 of a mile into the walk. On the way back, I walked it all but as it was mostly down hill, it was not too bad. I also had the promise of a cafe to sit in at the end of the road. Yes, I did a bad thing and invaded an all male cafe. It wasn't too bad though as the boy working the counter was a real doll and ran off to get me a coke (they only served coffee) and then sat down with me and wanted to have a chat. Made it much better and easier to avoid all of the eyes that were on me, wondering, I am sure, what the hell I was doing sitting in 'their' cafe. He even whistled down a Louage (like the Grand Taxi but a mini van that actually has a seat for everyone) for me and made sure that I knew how much to pay so that I did not get ripped off. When I got back to Tunis, I was recognized by the metro ticket taker who was thrilled to see me again and chatted away merrily. I am really amazed by the warmth of these people.

The next day, after finally getting my shower, I headed off to the coastal town of Nabeul for a couple of days. It is about an hour outside of Tunis and sits on the area called Cape Bon. It is also very close to some lovely long white sandy beaches and Punic ruins. It has a lovely local feel but you can also see the effect that the British and German package holiday makers are having on it as the small souq is loaded with trashy trinkets and souviners and men shouting, "Bonjour! Cava? Gazelle!" After receiving many different versions of the directions I needed to get to my hostel, I finally found it - Auberge de Jeunesse. It was a little hostel right on the beach - so close the waves should have been crashing on the back wall. A lovely little couple was running the place, which made it all the better. The only drawback that I found, was the mosquitos but I had those in Tunis as well. There is nothing better to disturb a nights sleep than those little suckers buzzing about in your ear all night long. Apparently I got a few of them as I found a couple dead in the bed and some blood on the pillow. Made me feel a smidge better for having got one but did not help with my fatigue.

I spent they day wandering the market and walking 3kms out to a weaving center that was closed when I got there and about which no one seemed to know, which made it all the harder to find. My lack of French did not help matters either but alas, I found it and found it to be closed. Couldn't be bothered to walk back out there again the next day but that is OK, the stuff looked like I could pass on it anyway. I headed back to Nabeul and began the search for food. The places that Lonely Planet had recommended had all changed quite a bit and were really targeting the tourists. The big ole VISA, MASTERCARD, AMERICAN EXPRESS signs on the window tipped me off to the fact that I probably did not want to eat there. I settled on a little sandwich/kebab shop and had a great chwarma made by two 19 year olds who were just excited to have me in the shop and kept trying to show me different things and explain the menu to me. It was quite fun.

So, this is where I had a bit of a break and an "I cannot believe it!" and me fed up with the men in Tunisia and pissed off to the point of almost crying that I was so absolutely horrified and disgusted. I cannot find words to express my sentiments and really I thought if I heard one more "Gazelle" that that person saying it would have felt the wrath of my rufy and would have had rained upon him a shower of words in a language that he did not understand but that would be quite clear from my angry red face. Clearly I am alright now as this happened about a week ago but it did have me in a piss for about 24 hours. The day had actually started out quite well and did go back and forth througout. The lady who owned the hostel was not doing breakfast but she decided that she would invite me into her living room, make me tea and press on me some biscotti like biscuits for breakfast as she did not have anything else. We had quite a nice time chatting away in her and my broken French but it worked and was very sweet. She even boiled some hot water for me for a bucket shower as the hot water heater on the shower went out. Think she was just glad to have someone in the hostel and looking forward to a chat with someone new. After the tea, I headed off to see Kerkouane, the worlds best preserved Punic ruines. They are positioned right on the water so I figured at the very least it would be a spectacular view. Even got a very nice Louage driver who after I tried to explain that I needed to get a taxi to the crossroads to the site and that I would walk from there, took me to a taxi driver and explained it all to him. I was very thankful as I was not sure if I could manage another pathetic attempt at French and another drawing of roads without knowing the word for crossroads or "I need to get off here". They were all very impressed that I wanted to walk the 1.5km from the crossroads, which I thought was quite funny as it is not far at all.

So, made it to the ruins and well, the view was spectacular and the ruins quite nice but really not all that much left to see of them. It was pretty much just the bottom foot or so of the ruins and then some very cool seated bathtubs, which are unique to this site. You could definitely tell that it was a spectacular spot even if there was not much to see. The location, for me, was what was really impressive - completely phenomenal! You could look both directions down the coast completely unhindered with waves crashing at your feet. I envy whoever had the waterfront houses as you could not get a better location. Had a lovely chwarma (kebab) sandwich on the rocks overlooking the ruins. Again, no other sea holds my heart like the blue of the med. sigh...I feel relaxed just thinking about it!

OK, after all that, I headed back to the crossroads and caught a lift back to the town of Keliebe (sp). This is where my little pissy, frustrated angry moment came in. In short (Dad, don't you worry, all is good an remember I have backup now!) the guy driving the car asked me if I would have sex with him and when "I said NOOOOOOOOO! I am not that kind of girl!" he offered me money. This did not make me feel any better and I still said "NO!" and then I got, "See, I have enough, it doesn't matter, how much do you want???" At that I tried to get out of the car. Needless to say, I got dropped about 1km from where I needed to be to catch my next taxi but at that point, it was probably a good thing. I was so angry and upset that I probably needed the km to calm down anway. After that I got a taxi down to the Port of Keliebe to go see the fort. Matters were not made any better by the guy on the scooter that decided to drive back and forth past me incessantly until I gave him such an evil look that I think he thought I would jump off the sidewalk and tear him off the scooter and pummel him. Too bad my eyes aren't blue, the evil eye would have worked much better!

The fort was actually quite lovely and has been a stronghold for many a year fromt he time of the Cathageneans (sp). It has been rebuilt adn built upon quite a bit so stands as a fairly intact fort, which is nice. Again, endless views out over the med with the sea stretching out on one side and rolling hills on the other. I don't think I will ever get over my love for the med sea - no other body of water holds my heart like this one with its shallow sandy areas reflecting a pale turquoise, getting darker as it gets deeper and over the rocks and finally merging into a deep sapphire blue. Absolutely stunning! Post fort, I settled my nerves a little at a cafe that looked out over the sea and a grove of olive trees. This and a tea al pignon (pine nuts) with a book was just what I needed for a bit of peace and quiet. Nothing like a cup of tea, eh? Although, maybe at this point, I could have done with a cocktail. Clearly I was still pissed off a bit about the sex and money thing...what in gods name are these men thinking? Or really, maybe it is all these stupid western women that I should be pissed off with. The ones that come out here and tart around and then make it frustrating for people like me.

Anyway, after that, I headed back to Nabeul and found a friendly face in the lady selling snacks. She tried to help me find an appropriate place to eat but I never did find the restaurant and ended up in a little touristy cafe where they were very sweet and and again, more than willing to explain the menu and everything else to me but fleeced me when it came to the bill. Left a pretty bad taste in my mouth and sent me walking home again thinking that these Tunisian men were all a bad lot. Guess I will have to avoid restaurants that don't have the menu with prices clearly posted smack in the middle of the place.

Next morning, the cute little lady at the hostel showed up at my door asking if I would like tea. She again had me into her living room and pulled out some bread and split her chocolate coated waffle with me while her friend (guess she stayed a bit late so slept over) snored peacefully on the other side of the coffee table from us. That part was a bit odd and I kept trying to be quiet for her but the hostel owner didn't seem to care how much noise she made and frankly, the woman sleeping on the floor didn't seem to mind the noise either. Guess you get to be a good sleeper when you share living quarters like they seem to here.

After the nice breakfast and more strange middle eastern soap operas and videos, I headed back to Tunis to meet Jules. I was quite happy about having her come out and spend a couple weeks with me especially after all the frustration I had been finding with eating and with comments from the fine (or not so fine) Tunisian men. Boy did I get a suprise, when I arrived at the hotel to meet Jules, there in the lobby also stood my tent buddy (first tent buddy from the overland trip) Sus! I was so excited I just about jumped on her and knocked her over, although I would be hard pressed to do that as she is 6ft tall and well, I am just a wee shrimp compared to that! In any case, it was all quite grand to have Jules AND Sus with me and got our bags settled in the hostel and went for a wander around town and to the Bardo Museeum to see the extensive collection of mosaics (the ones I still think should be out at the sites!)

We finished the day with beers at a mostly male cafe (yeah! I can finally sit down and have protection from the stares...well, at least not care at much about the stares!) and then headed off to the restaurant that I had found when I had last been in Tunis. They were quite excited to see me and welcomed Jules and Sus with open arms and fed us like we were queens! Even came out with appetizers and finished it all off with a couple of glasses of mint tea. Really was looking forward to the grand adventure the three of us would be having over the next bit. Headed to Carthage the next day but as I am just about up for time here and Jules really has no need to be on internet, that will have to wait for next time. Also, again, I have been quite verbose! Sorry about that!

WHIPPING THROUGH THE LAST WEEK IN MOROCCO

Well, I feel as if I have gotten quite long winded these days so I will try to keep this short before I dump a massive one on you for my first five days in Tunisia.

Turns out the reason for our tardiness to the nice couscous dinner was that Wyonetta finally managed to get out of Briaham what he really wanted. At some point during out expedition, he decided that he wanted to go travel with her and see some of the sights in Morocco. I couldn't figure out if this was a ploy to get more money and continue as a guide or if he was sincere. Well, gee, gosh, golly, he really wanted to come travel for a bit and then have Wyonetta help him get a visa into Spain. Never mind that he did not have a passport...minor detail. Then it also turned out that the reason we had to go to the couscous dinner, despite the fact that the rest of the family had eaten and gone to bed was because Mohktar planned to squeeze in an extra day on our tab and he considered the lunch and dinner with his family as part of his package. That all came out the next day when we discussed the final price. We spent much of our last morning in M'Hamid trying to get away from all these men trying to tell us what we should be doing, where we should be going and who we should be going with and escaped off to a local restaurant. That didnt' help much as Briaham found us and hovered around where we were sitting trying to chat. At this point it was pretty unclear if Wyonetta wanted away from him or wanted him to come with us but she agreed for him to come with us...lucky me huh???

So after much frustration and annoyance we jumped in a not so grand Grand Taxi and headed off to Zagora to replenish our funds and to catch the bus to Ourzazate. This all went pretty smoothly other than the cost of the Grand Taxi to Ourzazate, which Briham was not happy about paying but which Wyonetta and I secured without telling him. I think he had grand plans about keeping us in Zagora for a couple of days with his mates from the store as they had an entire lunch cooked up and kept saying, "Oh, Why don't you stay a couple of days here, it will be nice!" No thanks!

Off we went to Zagora and here is where things got very strange. Brihams brother and Hassan were calling him non-stop asking where the rest of the money was for the hotel - Wyonetta did not have enough to cover both the camel trek and ht hotel and so had to take money out over a couple of days. Briham did not have enough money to cover many days of travel - only 500D and was eating next to nothing and every time we went to eat, he wandered off to his cousins shop to wait for us. He also had some weird document that needed to be signed by Wyonetta, with passport details and approved my the local tourist police to allow him to travel with her. I pressed upon her that she should not sign anything until she understood it completely and in the end, it restulted in quite a discussion between the two of them in front of the general police office while they discussed what they would do. She finally refused to sign anything, espeically since half our day was already wasted and that meant we could no longer get to Ait Benhaddu, the largest most impressive Kasbah in Morocco. I was pretty unhappy about this but more eager to get rid of Briham and be on my way.

Wyonetta had problems with her ATM card as well so this did not add to the fun of the situation. Ultimately, she got the cash and tried to give that and the wine we had bought to replace Hassans wine that we drunk, to Briham. He called Hassan to approve it all and that resulted in another big mess and finally with Wyonetta paying extra to save Briham's ass if he did not return with the correct amount of money and with her breaking and telling Briham that she did not want him to travel with us any longer. I was quite relieved with that. Although she did keep emailing and chat lining with him and almost decided to stay another week to meet up with him again. Never quite understood that for all her complaining about him, she was thinking about changing her flight to hang out with him more...whatever...

Quite happily we arrived at the bus station to find a bus heading out immediately to Boulmaine du Dades where we could catch a taxi out to the gorge. That went well enough and, of course, at the other end, we were greeted by a nice man in a blue robe who wanted to help us get there. We let him, knowing full well that he was a guide for the area and that we were not going to be quided anywhere. In any case, it was very useful him arranging a grand taxi for us and also getting us to a good internet cafe while we waited. The entire way up the gorge he kept telling us about the walks he could take us on and the fact that he was an expert on massage, Berber Massage to be exact. Just a side note here, Berber Massage is something that should be avoided at all costs. Bascially these guys just want to take the chance to rub their hands all over the Western women and to see how far they can go and how much clothing they can get off. It is truely vile this habit of theirs and very annoying. The hotel that we were brought to was quite nice and VERY cheap. We had a nice Berber Whiskey (mint tea) on the patio with the owner and were then shown all of this guide guys photos of various trips he had done and the people that were his "friends" all over the world and that loved his hikes. Ugh!

In any case, we had a lovely night that eve listening to the river gurgle by our window, eating nice food and watching the locals play their drums and a chzec girl give it a go as well. It was nice. Of course guide guy came by and insisted on giving us hand massages and wanting to give us feet and leg massages as well. We escaped quickly to our room hoping not to see him the next day. Oh well, too bad for that, we did have to see him the next day and sure enough he thought we would go on a hike with him. We took a pass and went out and wandered the gorge on our own. It was lovely and we found a little offshoot that was carved out by the river and looked like parts of Utah...can't remember the parks name as I have never been there but there are always pictures of it around. The brillant glowing orange canyons. Anyway, it was a nice walk and then we jumped on another bus in the afternoon to head out to the Todra Gorge. Figures that we would bump into guide guy as we changed from Grand Taxi to bus and he was quite pissy with us. He even asked for money for the hand massages. We both looked at him like he was crazy and said no and then he explained he thought we were going to go on a hike with him and that he had lost money. I replied, "too bad, I thought you were just being nice!" I have had it with these arab men and am quite disgusted by their behavior.

Todra Gorge was beautiful...rising 300 meters or something like that out of the ground. Unfortunately they have built a road through the center of it so it is packed with big tour buses half of the day but it is still stunning. We spent one night there and then headed out in another Grand Taxi - eight of us this time...all crammed in there...We joined up with a German couple for this bit and the afternoon bus to Er Racchidia where we would change for buses to Fez and Casablanca. The overnight bus was not too bad and as it was quite empty, we managed a good nights sleep.

Fez was not quite the exciting exotic city I expected it to be, in fact I did not love it too much. It was OK but nothing like the energy and excitement that you get from being in Marrakesch. It did have a very neat souq with lots of tiny, twisty lanes lined with shops. I was too overwhelmed to bother to look in them and they had the usual stuff that was everywhere else so I wasn't too bothered either. The salesmen also did not help their cause by being very verbose and yelling out at us at every turn, " hey sweetie, gazelle, come into my shop, what you looking for". They grab at you in Fez, which was particularly annoying. At dinner time, we snuck a bottle of wine into the restaurant - there is pretty much no alcohol anywhere - and the waiter helped us by pouring it into a coke bottle (it was only a half bottle) so that we could have it on the table. Funny thing was that we had to drink from the coke bottle - very strange feeling, wine from a coke bottle - and when I was brought the back to pour it into the bottle, the cook took the little bit that was left, put the bottle to her mouth and knocked it back. Then she gave me a big grin with her pudgy face and a twinkle in her eye and went back to cooking.

We only spent one night in Fez and then headed to Meknes to see the Roman ruins in Volubilis. They were quite spectacular, as are most Roman ruins (at least to me). We had hired a Grand Taxi with a Dutch couple so got there and to another city (can't remember the name but it is a pilgramige site) qutie easily and had an enjoyable afternoon. In the evening we poked around town a bit but it was not a very exciting place. The next day we were off again to spend out last night in Rabat.

Rabat was quite nice - clean, amazingly clean! It had a nice cosmopolitan feel about it and actually had women sitting in cafes in the Nouvelle Ville. The city was really geared towards locals and that was nice. The souq was packed with food vendors and junk clothing vendors and there were very few tourists around. I would have liked to have seen the Kasbah there as well but it was dark and it did not seem prudent to be wandering the street aimlessly at night. Also, my stomach was grumbling. Had a good dinner in a really local place (kofta sandwich, frites and Harrira - had to have the soup on my last night). We met up with some local rasta guys and they chatted away with us while we ate adn then showed us a nice little cafe with good mint tea. They were friendly enough and we enjoyed talking to them but really, I spent half the night wondering what they really wanted and when "my brothers shop" was going to come out. I hate having this feeling that everyone is out for something when maybe they really are not.

Early up the next day and off to the airport.