Episode I: The Phantom Oyster

Now I have to tell you a Saga. And this saga, like all great stories happens in three parts, but each part is interlinked so that the full story is woven into a beautiful fabric, which, in the end, you can wrap yourself in and feel like you have a full and complete understanding of everything that happened. This is Episode I. This tells an account of my birthday. Enjoy.

The night before my birthday we went to my favourite restaurant. It's actually a group of restaurants called Le Cap. There are three different restaurants within the complex, one that serves Lebanese tapas, one serving Italian-Tunisian fusion cuisine, and one serving French food. We went to the French restaurant because it was the fanciest, serves the best steaks in the country (in the honest and humble opinion of my South African friend Ian, and trust me, South Africans know a thing or two about steaks), and I had to celebrate surviving 27 Club in style. It was beautiful and that's all there is to say... oh, and there was cake:

Wednesday morning, my 28th birthday. I woke up early and went for the final pre-half-marathon training run with my running buddies. I was excited to see how my 28 year old body compared to that of a 27 year old. Turns out it was pretty similar.

The 20th March is a national holiday in Tunisia. It marks Tunisia's independence from France and is celebrated, not only by a national day, but by a brand of cigarettes, les vingt mars and a number of streets are also named after this date. It all makes me feel rather special and like I belong here.

Loving a day-trip, I organised a bit of a jolly up to the marine city of Bizerte. Bizerte is the most Northerly city in Africa and was a strategic port town during the Roman occupation of Tunisia. Nowadays it's a sleepy fishing city an hour or so north of Tunis.
 

Much of the action is nestled around a beautiful old marina, filled with un-seaworthy looking wooden boats and cafes and restaurants. Although it was a public holiday the whole place was quiet and tranquil and waiting to be explored.

On one side of the marina was a fort which used to serve as a stronghold for the city. We scaled the fort walls for spectacular views of the Mediterranean Sea and access to real cannons, which I naturally climbed all over.

The gang and the Fort walls

In the afternoon we drove to a gorgeous restaurant about 2km north of the city called Le Petite Mousse. It was set in an original 1970's style boutique hotel. The food was absolutely beautiful. Everyone declared it the greatest food that they had eaten in Tunisia. The restaurant specialised in seafood and so it was a typical "select your fish" affair. It was the first time I had seen Oysters (les Huîtres) on a Tunisian Menu, and I just couldn't resist. "Sont-ils frais?" I asked the server with a smile... well what he going to say? really...

Carb-loading-conscious I had some lovely salmon and prawn tagliatelle for main course. And a whole bread basket.

We walked off lunch along an old pier to the lighthouse, and then returned back to Tunis where I caught up with my family via the magic of technology and sighed at having spent the loveliest day in the nicest places with the greatest people.

Thursday night. I am awakened by a terrible pain in my stomach. At first I think it's hunger, but quickly rationalise that as I have been eating for a small village for the past week, this is extremely unlikely. But the pain is very definite and there. I feel feverish and weak. With loads of work to do before the weekend, I drag myself into the office, but just make it past lunchtime before my manager scolds me and sends me home. A quick check in with my Oyster-accomplices confirms my worst fears - food poisoning.

Friday night I am beside myself, willing my poor body to get better. Feeding it soup and water and nothing else and heading to bed with a prayer, hoping to be strong enough for the weekend half marathon.

The Reckless Behaviour of a 28 year old

Soon (tomorrow?) I will write you all about my amazing birthday, the birthday-eve dinner at my favourite restaurant in Tunis, my birthday, early morning 10km and the day trip that I organised for 25 people to Bizerte, the most northerly city in all of Africa.

But first, I must introduce you to someone:

Look at this girl. Look how she smiles with happiness and expectation at the birthday oyster that she is about to embark on, blissfully unaware that in just 36 hours she will be bent over with crippling stomach cramps, unable to stand, offering God her firstborn child in exchange for the pain. Little does she know that she is jepardising months of half-marathon training on the final stretch by ingesting nasty bacteria into her already compromised body, just days away from the longest race of her life.

I hate this girl.

Pray for me, People xxx

It's been 10 long years

It has come. Today is the Birthday-eve of my 28th Birthday. Just ten years ago I leapt into adulthood with excitement, apprehension, hope and a younger pair of legs. I think this is a natural pause for me, to review how the past ten years have gone, to look at where I'm going and to reflect a little on the lessons, changes and outcomes.

I've been thinking about 18-year-old Michelle a lot lately. Since almost all of you gorgeous readers are my family, almost all of you knew her. You'll remember she was very headstrong, hard-working, unforgiving, sarcastic, shy and awkward. Here she is:

On my 18th birthday, ten years ago tomorrow, the UK, US, Poland and Australia declared war on Iraq and began airstrikes on Baghdad, I attended a inter-school conference on the Arab-Israeli peace process and I received a laptop for university from my parents.

I expected to hit a number of milestones over the next ten-years, and though some of them didn't happen for me, I was given new challenges and opportunities that I never thought were possible. I did things that were literally beyond my wildest dreams. For example, when I was 18, I had visited three foreign countries, France, the US and Spain. Ten years later, I have visited those three all again, and 23 others. Oh, you wanna hear them? Well, I did make a little list, (in no particular order); Belgium, Holland, Germany, Austria, Italy, Croatia, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, South Africa, Morocco, Mozambique, Tanzania, Ghana, Uganda, Kenya, India, Romania, Ireland, Turkey, Qatar, Iceland, (I actually stopped there before I remembered...) Tunisia. And I have skipped over the borders for visas in Rwanda and DRC. Wow!

But more than the adventures and travel, the biggest thing has been how much my mind has opened and changed and developed. When I was 18, things were so black and white, I was very judgmental and self assured. Overtime I have learnt that there is some middle-ground, that balance and understanding are important. I have made mistakes, bad ones, and had to work through the consequences and learnt to forgive myself. I have learnt to relax, to be thankful, to appreciate my family.

In ten years time, I don't know where I'll be, or who I'll be, but I hope to look back at 28 year old Michelle and smile at how she really did think she knew-it-all!

Happy Birthday to Me - I'm off to the beach!

Tutt takes a Tuc-Tuc

It's been such a busy time lately. Work is manic and takes up my every waking minute throughout the week (and some of the dreamtime ones too). I can't complain, it's lovely to feel challenged and busy. But naturally this is leaving me with little time for adventures and reporting. Don't you worry, we have some lovely big events coming up that will be full of fun and excitement. Not least my Birthday on Wednesday, which I share with Tunisia, and so get a public holiday, and for which gifts have already started arriving at the office from lovely friends in land far away - quadrupling my excitement! Then we have the great race (more on this later) and then Easter, for which I am baking a Simnel cake... one of these days, and then I have some days off and my Mummy and Daddy are coming - yippee!

So I just have a couple of little reports:

1. Ghana Independence Day

Last Sunday we celebrated Ghanian independence day at my church. Ghana is a country that holds a really special place in my heart - it was a country that I had eagerly wanted to visit for a long time, before becoming the first African country that I worked in as a professional. I found the people and culture so open and welcoming. They have this delicious food called Kele Wele which is very spicy plantain deep fried and eaten like chips. The spice mix is delicious and so moreish, but your eyes water and your mouth burns from the chilli. 

Ghana boasts a really specific type of cloth called kente which is a woven fabric with quite a blocky style in warm colours like gold, orange and red, so it was lovely to see lots of the congregation wearing theirs and brightening Tunisia up.

I look forward to returning to Ghana someday soon.

2. A Crazy Ride

I moved into a furnished apartment here in Tunis, because I have moved around so much in the last five years and the thought of painstakingly picking out a load of furniture (again), and then selling it at a loss (again) when life moves me on, was just too much to bear. This said, my apartment is a bit sparse, and as I am due to be hosting soon, I thought a couple of investments are probably in order. I decided that I wanted to buy a sideboard for my living room, and so I found a very quaint carpenter's close to my church and picked out one that fit the bill. My problem is that I don't drive.

I can drive, but the sad fact is that I'm a horrible, horrible driver. Easily distracted, bored and thrown into a panic by unanticipated circumstances, my track record in both the UK and Uganda was pretty dismal. Luckily comprehensive insurance or a sorry smile, respectively, can get you out or a rough spot in each of those places, but I fear that this just won't fly here in Tunis. Plus with a very reliable and inexpensive taxi force here, most journeys can be made very easily. Except when you are buying a sideboard...

So the carpenter, like Jesus, sets in motion a miracle, and orders, what he tells me in French, is a "scooter". Immediately alarmed, I breath a shallow sign of relief when this little beauty flies round the corner: 

A Tuc-Tuc! Just like in India! So we took the Tuc-Tuc all the way from Tunis centre to La Marsa, where I live. It's only about 20km, but it took well over an hour, so low was the top speed. And let me tell you, that cabin is not really designed for two people!
We felt every bump in the road and it really made me miss the boda bodas of Kampala.

3. Tunis Artisan Fair
For this week and next a big arts and crafts fair is being held in Le Kram, another suburb of Tunis. We headed along this afternoon so find out what the Craic was - ahh c'mon it's St Patrick's day, If I can't say it now, when can I say it?

So the spirit of the event seems to be applying traditional Tunisian techniques to more modern art pieces. For example look at these mosiacs! Yes, really:
 

 

There was lots of furniture on offer too. Offering flashes of Tunisian Berber culture, with the comfort and practicality of modern pieces.

And there were scarey puppets... and this is from a girl who in general, does like a good marionette.

Tunisien Patesserie artisans were hard at work. I'm now carb-loading in earnest and so avoid too much high fat, but my friend had some some pistachio brittle which she said was amazing. Cow.

Can you see those bad boys up front? They are my favourites. They look like sea shells all curled up and lovely and deep fried with pistachio sprinkled on. They're actually called "ouedhnines el khadhi" which is Arabic for ears of the judge. The name comes from the idea that the local judge would only listen to the grievances of the citizens intermittently, so when he did, he had to have big ears, because there was alot for them to complain about. During Ramadan these are one of the specialty pastries that are served. I didn't have any today... but next time...

And here's a tower of my second favourite, while we're on sweeties... Nougat!

I just like it because it reminds me of my Mummy.

I just bought some single-girl essentials, like shot glasses and soap - classy!

4. One Week to Go
Enfin, it's just one week to go until the half marathon, and by all calculations, we are ready! Two 18km training runs under our belts, it has been an adventure - I just cannot wait to get it done, and get over that finish line. Then I'm planning a month off, before I start my MARATHON TRAINING SCHEDULE. I must be mad!

Right, off to fix a curry, after many failed attempts to get the right spices (The French word for Tumeric is Curcuma, not to be confused with Cumin or Coriander) I think today could be the day.

Big love xxx

Marching through March

Hey Kids,

I'm back! and I'm so much better! I was really sick for a while there, and I was so miserable as I had been bragging so much about my perfect health all through winter and attributing it to my super healthy diet, but in the end, that nasty African bug caught up with me. 

So sadly I don't have many nice "life in Tunisia" stories for you today as things have been pretty quiet - but just you wait, have got some nice stuff planned this weekend that you're going to LOVE.

Otherwise I have been plodding away with my little 30before30 goals.

10. Run a Marathon
The half marathon training has taken up everything. Seriously. I feel like I have become one of those crazy people who are completely obsessed with exercise. I have plenty of friends who have had babies lately and they often remark that they are in completely in awe of their bodies - that they were able to grow a human in their tummies, that the human body is amazing. This is how I feel. And this isn't even as magical and miraculous as procreation - but I still can't believe that I am still doing this, and that even though I keep feeding it M&Ms and dolly mixtures, my body keeps going.

I am almost 6 weeks through the 8 week training schedule. I did some sums today, and so far I have run 168.7km (sorry it's a crazy number it's to do with km/mile conversions) of the 265.6kms that are in my training plan (that includes the Halfy herself). So I am 64% of the way through - which makes me feel nice.

Now I don't usually take a whole load of selfies, but I took this picture for my sister who bought me new top for the gym. This is how disgusting 13kms looks:

26. Read the Big Russian Novels
I am tearing through Anna Karenina. I wish I hadn't spent so long worrying about which translation to read and had just cracked on with it years ago. It's brilliant. There are about 800 pages and I'm on 550. It's solidifying my St. Petersburg Dreams.

27. Read the Whole Bible
So I've finished the new Testament now - it was a hoot, especially Revelations which I had definitely never read before. It was a bit out there - think I would have remembered that.
Now back in the Jewish Law. It's heavy, but I've got a little reading plan and am just marching through.
On the religious note, I gave up alcohol for lent. It's even harder than when I gave up eating mammals. It's really tough. I have a bottle of Californian wine in the fridge ready for Easter Sunday. Social occasions are a nightmare - I even had a work function with ever-flowing champagne. This is so unbelievably rare, you cannot imagine.

Other nice things:

• My friend had a baby - and I knit her a hat, but she is tiny and the hat is huge. She's working on growing so that it fits. My friend filmed the birth - he is a nutter.

• A new Kate Nash album came out and it's keeping my ears very busy. I can't wait until it's warm enough to lie on the beach and listen to it.
• A new restaurant opened near to my house and they have a special license to serve pork. I had a Parma Ham salad there last night and it was so delicious that I bit my tongue. Hard.
• Tomorrow is payday! 

Big Kisses xxxx

Atishoo! Atishoo! We all fall down!

Bear with me, comrades. I'm struggling!

Ah well, it was bound to happen. After a whole winter with not a sniffle, suddenly I have a horrible cold and my tonsils are all massive. In addition, I'm under a great deal of pressure at work, which, to be honest I did know was coming, but doesn't make it any more fun. So the long, long, hours, with the half-marathon training, the french cramming and all the everything else and something was bound to crack.

I still trained today though, but I only managed 6km before my whole body gave up. If you can walk, you can run, right? Except that I can hardly breathe.

Anyhow, so I'm taking a step back, have postponed French test until June, having a weekend off running, but do plan to get back to it once I am better - I'm up to a solid 13km now, and I really think I can do this.

You miss me? here I am with Jasmin and jasmine.

P.S. Yeah there's no Prime Minister - what do you want me to do about it? Tunisia... ! x

Hometown Visitation, Cape Malay Temptation, Assassination and Co-habitation

Oh my, oh my... just when life had started to get boring, everything happens all at once and before I knew it there is a tonne to update you on. Let us begin:

Hometown Visitation

If you're a lucky one, you just saw me when I came home. If you're less lucky, then I'm sorry, and we'll schedule it for next time, m'kay? It really was a flying visit to scoot home for my nephew's birthday last weekend. He gets more and more adorable everytime I see him, and I can't help but fall in love with him over and over again.
He had elected to have a fancy dress party, which we all thought would be lots of fun, but has recently developed a wild adoration for Captain America, a Marvel character not typically marketed for UK consumers and so sourcing of a costume and gifts was a little tricky for his poor Mummy. It's not clear where he even found about about Captain America... all he seems to know is that he has a shield. Naturally, I can place my full support behind a defensive, rather than an offensive character.

When asked who he wants to be for his birthday party:

Otherwise the trip home was wonderful. I managed to bring back all the things that I had forgotten over Christmas and to finally take Cleo for a good walk.

Being expatriated is sometimes hard for friends and family to understand. Some people consider it as a temporary arrangement or a rejection of your home culture, when for me it's neither of those things. My close family have stopped asking "So, when are you coming home for good?" and accept that this is no short term arrangement, but I am starting to feel detached now even when home, and sometimes miss social intricacies and popular culture jokes. I worry sometimes about becoming one of those people who don't really feel 'at home' anywhere. But the novelty of this life is still fresh, and so for now, I'm not about to become island-bound again yet.

Cape Malay Temptation


Returning back after such a fun weekend is always hard. You try to placate the pain by buying yourself lots of home luxuries to get yourself through those few few rough hours and days. Good quality chocolate, tea bags, pork products, celery and Greek yogurt are my staples. However, this time, the homecoming was made easier my my friend Jasmin hosting a beautiful Cape Malay supper. She had literally spent all day cooking, and her laden table and smiley face made the return so much easier.

Cape Malay is a ethnic group in Jasmin's home country of South Africa, to which she belongs. The food, like most South African food, is heavy and meaty.
For main course we had Bobotie, which is a heavy, spicy meatloaf topped with a savory egg custard. It looks a bit like Shepherd's pie, but the spices made it very fragrant and the texture was much stodgier.

It was served with a yellow rice cooked with raisins. So deliciously sweet, so perfectly homely. For dessert, she had made some Malay Koesisters, which are little cinnamon doughnuts covered in dessicated coconut.

And we drank lots of South African wine. I'm so glad that she's my friend.

Assassination

I have a conundrum here, because our lives have been centred around the assassination of the leader of the opposition, Chokri Belaid since it happened on Wednesday morning, the desolation of government on Thursday and the huge state funeral and subsequent protests on Friday. But although I am affected in fairly minor ways - changes to working hours, avoiding certain parts of the city, aeroport and shop closures - I am no political commentary and to offer any kind of judgement on the event or the fallout would be insulting to a nation where every citizen takes such an interest on the state, reputation and accountability of its political system.

However, from talking to my Tunisian friends and colleagues, it is clear that most Tunisians feel that their glorious revolution, and the real opportunity for reform and change has been stolen from them by small pockets of religious fanatics. 

Our hearts break and all our love goes out to the family of Chokri Belaid.

Co-Habitation

Oh Lordy Kids. It happened. I got up in the night on Thursday... and there he was. After 14 months of living in my lovely apartment with not a sniff of trouble... Bam!

There were screams. I reached for the spray, and I destroyed him. I can't understand it. I am usually so brave, snakes, spiders, bees, wasps... no trouble... but cockroaches - I hate them.

I would love to tell you that it's an isolated incident, but I met his wife and children last night. I feel quite traumatised, but hope that this problem will only last the rainy season (another two weeks).

My nerves couldn't take much longer.


Peace x