This weekend I learnt a lot about standards and the fact that it is quite possible that I don't actually have any. Or at least that mine are lower than other people's. I don't really mind about this, but it can make cohesive travel a little bit difficult. I was forced to learn this the hard way.
The plan for the weekend was to travel to the South, to a concert at the amazing amphitheatre in El-Jem and then spend the weekend in neighbouring Mahdia, a coastal, picturesque port, with calm bays for swimming. I was travelling with a colleague, who although had lived and worked in Africa for quite some time, had not really had much exposure to the real world, outside of Movenpick lounges and Lavazza espresso stations. While we had a shared history in Uganda, she had endured no exposure to load shedding, cockroach infestations or washing your knickers in a bucket. Whereas, that's my life blood.
So it was always going to be a difficult partnership, but not one to usually moan, I just need to give you this background, so that you start to understand the context when I tell you the next line:
We missed the concert because we moved hotel rooms 4 times.
Seriously.
And honestly, the hotel was lovely - cheap, clean, secure, welcoming... my companion was just right mental. Anyway, enough about her.
El Jem was still a feast for the eyes, even though the concert was finished - I'm not mad about classical music anyways.
Once we were over the concert, and sleeping at the hotel where the concierge was now positively glaring at us everytime we walked past, it was time to hit Mahdia.
The first stop was the Art Galleries. Like most Tunisian towns the commercial district is located around a central medina. Mahdia is famous for art and silk work, really spectacular art and really beautiful silk work.
To buy anything in Tunisia, you have to have time. You have to be prepared to sit for a long time with the shopkeeper before negotiations begin. Sit. Consider everything in the shop. And of course, drink some tea.
After a lengthy process where you tell the shopkeeper your entire life history in broken French, and you have learnt all about each of his cousins living in the UK and confirmed that you probably don't know any of them, as the UK is a big place and you haven't lived there for four years... you can finally make your purchase.
This is all very exhausting, but luckily in Mahdia, there is a small square in the centre of the medina next to a mosque, where you can sit and have another cup to tea for refreshment before repeating the process over again.
The silk factories were also brilliant. In every open door was another silk loom and then every few streets an outlet shop where you could look at scarves for hours and hours, quite forgetting that you only have one neck.
In the far East of Mahdia, there is the Fatimid port, hosting the Muslim cemetery, and the remains of the 10th Century Fatimid fortifications. I'm not one for taking pictures of graves, so here are some rocks:
On the way back to Tunis, many of the vehicles were carrying live sheep. Eid al-Adha, the Feast of the Sacrifice is in just two weeks... and my sister and her fiance are coming. I hope they like lamb.
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