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.