Little did he, or we, know that the party was over. Within a month, Tunisians had revolted. Some 300, mostly young, were killed in a quick, bloody coup that installed a temporary government. Razor wire around all government buildings reminds us that the truce is conditional too.
I asked our guide yesterday, as we return three years later, what the political situation was now. Fragile, he said. Uncertain. The 14th of January is a critical date, he said, when the interim government will deliver the country's new constitution. He is guardedly optimistic that his moderate, family oriented people will have a peaceful move to democracy. I think it might be a bumpy road. Time will tell.
We five toured the Medina, the old city and the beautiful village of Sidi Bou Said on Christmas Day. This mostly Muslim country was open for business. Or, more specifically, the tourist dollar.
Tunisia looks like the poor Berber country that it is. Roads and buildings are run down, there is rubbish everywhere and the traffic is frequently jammed. The world heritage listed Medina of Tunis, dating in parts from the eighth century, is poorly conserved and development encroaches. That said, poking through the 8th to 12th century souks, in good use still, was an experience. The carpets and ceramics are especially beautiful and the souvenir hunter in me was on high alert. Matched only by Syls's pragmatism, really.
The roman ruins of Carthage lie mostly in grassy paddocks. For a country of ten million, so heavily dependent on the tourist, things do not look encouraging.
Sidi Bou Said was a delight, however. An old village, perched on the hills high above Carthage. All walls are white and the doors, windows and shades are blue. Cobbled lanes complete the picture, a pretty one. We wandered around happily here and could have stayed longer. Hugh got close to a hawk. What more could you wish for?
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