History
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Along Route 1: Morro Bay To Monterey
One of our last conversations in Morro Bay is in The Libertine bar, with two guys who are driving Route 1 north to south, the opposite way to us, who tell us the fog has been so consistent that they haven’t seen much of the Pacific all the way from San Francisco. So we say goodbye to Claudia and farewell to Morro Bay hoping that we don’t have the same experience. Unfortunately, for the most part we do – what we hoped would be a spectacular drive up the Pacific Highway (Route 1) sees the coast obscured by fog for well over half the journey once we are beyond Cambria,…
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Green Days In England
Can you imagine going to buy a coffee at Heathrow and being told they don’t accept British currency? Or that JFK Airport doesn’t take dollars? As is customary we entered Tunis Airport with a handful of local currency left in our pockets, probably just enough to cover a bite to eat and a coffee before we boarded the flight home, trying to strike that balance between not running out too soon and not having any left at the end. All we got for our last remaining dinar was shakes of heads and wry smiles: once you’re airside, nobody accepts them. You can pay in euros, you can pay by card,…
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Djerba: Rich Jewish History & The Riches Of Street Art
The island of Djerba has a unique and fascinating history of huge significance for those of Jewish faith. Legend has it that when Nebuchadnezzar II destroyed the Temple Of Solomon during the destruction of Jerusalem in 586BC, the fleeing high priests took with them sections of the temple, settled on Djerba and used the remnants to commence construction of a synagogue on the island. Legend or fact? Story or history? DNA testing of the modern day community has revealed a high level of Kohanim lineage – direct descendants of the early high priests, so the story may well be founded on truth. The Jewish community on Djerba has survived and…
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Empty Roads, Desert Rain & Mirages: Matmata-Douz-Tozeur
It’s fair to say that the journey from Matmata to Douz isn’t the most challenging foreign drive we’ve ever undertaken, with long stretches of empty road cutting a perfect straight line through the desert. In terms of civilisation, there is nothing: a good hour of roadway passing not a single building, let alone anything as grand as a village. In fact the greatest – maybe the only – challenge is the patches where the sand has covered the road, the tarmac has all but disappeared and the grip of our tyres is about as good as a stiletto on a polished floor. At last we reach signs of life as…
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Going Underground: Matmata
As soon as we heard that some former troglodyte homes beneath the ground had been converted into a place where you can stay the night, we knew we had to do it. The temptation of spending a night in one of these most unusual cave dwellings was just too much to resist, especially when our route south and west was taking us close to their very location. An entire population of troglodyte people lived in and around what is now Matmata, in man made cave dwellings constructed in intriguing fashion. Some of these cave dwellings were simply hewn into the rock, often behind tight entrances between tall natural pillars, but…
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The Journey Continues: Monastir-El Jem-Gabes
Strictly speaking, El Jem isn’t a desert town, but as we step off the louage from Monastir and squint through the haze, it bears all the hallmarks of one. We arrive in a dust storm – or maybe a sand storm – which makes the whole town shimmer in the heat and minarets and palm trees drift in and out of sight. Flags whip and crack in the stiff wind, the sun is clogged and filtered by the sand which is so concentrated that it’s a bit like looking into a fog. Our glasses and sunglasses are quickly covered in a film of dust, layers of sand particles have coated…
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To A Different World: Kairouan To Monastir
We have barely entered the chaotic louage station before someone spots us – two backpack laden travellers on the move – and points us in the direction of the correct ticket window for Monastir, and as soon as we have our tickets, a second person is there to show us to the right louage. This is just how Tunisia, and Kairouan, is: helpful people everywhere. For those unfamiliar with this kind of transport, the louage and its counterparts in other countries, there is no timetable, the driver simply waits until all seats are taken and, as soon as they are, he hits the road. With a stroke of luck the…
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In Deeper: To The Sacred City Of Kairouan
We feel quite a sense of anticipation as we make our way across the nondescript scrubland plain towards the city of Kairouan and step down from the minibus beneath greying afternoon skies. Indeed, there was a time when we couldn’t even have got as far as this: until being taken by the French in 1881, Kairouan was strictly Muslim only with all others barred from even entering the city. It is today the fourth most sacred city of Islam after Mecca, Medina and Jerusalem, tradition stating that seven pilgrimages to Kairouan equals one pilgrimage to Mecca. The Great Mosque of Kairouan (aka the Mosque Of Uqba) is widely accepted as…
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The Wider Tunis: Carthage, The Coast And More
The teenage boys are just as boisterous on the train now as they were half an hour ago performing outrageous gymnastics on the beach, which in itself is pretty impressive, particularly if they’re practicing Ramadan and leaping around like that when they can’t even take on water. Now, on the train, they jump off and run from carriage to carriage at each station, open the doors while the train is moving, swap shirts and throw bags at each other: we just smile at the fact that wherever you are, whatever the culture…..boys will be boys. We are on the short suburban railway which runs out from Tunis, across the water…
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Legal Aliens: Englishmen In Resort
Day 3 at Camp Sunshine (not its real name) brings an increase in the sea breeze and the nations’ flags between the restaurant and the beach are flapping furiously – though there’s not a Union Jack or a St Georges anywhere to be seen in the collection. Colours are to the fore: the deep brown suntans of those Germans presumably nearing the end of their stay clashing with the frighteningly red raw faces and shoulders of the newcomers who’ve done too much sun too soon. They must be suffering. There’s also the sky blue – not the sea or the sky but the shiny sky blue of our wrist bands…
