Storytelling

Once upon a time (four weeks ago) I went to London for the weekend to celebrate a friend's Hen Party... I did tell you. Remember?

I flew Tunisair, who give you more food than British Airways, but are always, almost-predictably late. Landing at Heathrow, I darted down to the tube to fly across town to meet the other Hens and begin celebrating my friend's final moments of 'freedom'. I had come straight from the office, and was moving with just hand luggage. I wasn't exhausted, but I wasn't looking my finest either, having come off just a cheeky three-hour flight.

So I assumed my seat on the tube and started re-clock-in to all the social norms of my country. It's all strangely familiar, and yet, you feel like such an outsider at first, it takes the brain a little while to catch up. I remember when I came back from Uganda once and all I could see everywhere, on the train, on magazines, on posters was those funny black and white boxes, the mobile barcodes. It took me a while to work out what on Earth they were.

A lad sat down opposite me. He was groomed, very groomed. I'm au fait with the whole metrosexual thing and all, but this guy is new levels. plus he is wearing bright green trousers, which makes me smile as it reminds me of this so I chalked him up as being some over-groomed toff, just off a flight from Zurich and I take out my book.

When suddenly, Oh My God! he's staring at me... This is the London Tube. Eye contact is an actual crime. Is he actually staring at me? I thought this just happened in Tunisia, why is this stranger looking directly at me? Am I actually in the UK? Am I on fire? I will look up very quickly to ascertain if he wants to engage in some kind of exchange. Why is he staring? Is it really a starable offense that the hem has fallen down on my dress and you can see some loose threads? I will fix it, y'know.... I just haven't had time yet....

I glance up quickly, aware that if our eyes meet, we will certainly burst into flames.

And then I see it. He is checking out his reflection in the blacked out window behind me. He is actually rearranging his hair.

Mate.

Do boys in the UK do this now? Is it socially acceptable for boys to be that vain? Then (and just to note, I was not staring, I was merely observing discretely) he took out his Iphone with it's reflective casing and continued to play with his hair, like it was the most normal thing in the world. I was flabber-ghasted. This was not my country.

He then took out a wet wipe from his leather carry-on and polished up his shiny shoes, smiling with satisfaction as he did it. My eyes rolled.

He reached into his bag again, and although, I felt like nothing, ...a hairdryer, ...a vanity table, ... some tweezers... could surprise me at this stage, I was still curious to what Rupert (as we were now calling him) had for us next...

...When out came a brand new, freshly-printed, Penguin copy of Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment, the same book as I was holding (though my copy had lived a bit). Imagine my surprise and delight! Then we did a bit of real eye-contact and a nod for being book-twins.  I secretly smiled to myself, wondering if this book about a depressed, poverty stricken Russian scholar, who leaps around St Petersburg like a madman is really a book for Africa Girl and her un-hemmed dress, or just an outfit-accessory for vain, green-trouser Ruperts, straight off the plane from Zurich?

Nevertheless, I just finished it, and I LOVED it.

Hammamet 10k

I've done it again! Two running post back to back. Forgive me. This one is about more than just Running. Promise, promise.

Hammamet is a town about a hour's drive south of Tunis. The word Hammamet comes from the plural of Hammam or baths, and the area was named in reference to the ruins of many Roman Bath artifacts found in the area. Today, the area is still popular with people looking to relax and wallow in the water and it's a tourist hotspot for Europeans with its own airport and nightclub strip, earning it the tagline Ibiza sans visa. My company also have corporate rate agreements with lots of the mega-swank hotels, so it's easy to head down there for a steal of a weekend.

Last Saturday they organised the first ever Half-Marathon. Hungover, and barely able to walk on Saturday morning, my running team and I decided that it would be more prudent to participate in the course pour tous, the 10km Race. It was a point to point race, to the middle of nowhere. The organisers had literally spraypainted a line across the road at 10k. But the local support through the villages was amazing. I did so many high-5s I had to change hands after a while, as my palm was getting raw!

My time was not a personal best - I can't even tell you! it was longer than an hour - I'm getting worse! Well, It was a personal-best, daytime-sun, in-Africa-in-June. I was so hungover, so the fact that I even participated deserves some credit. And the credit came in the form of a medal! Naturally. And a free t-shirt in Peptol Bismol pink.

 

I don't think I have ever mentioned, but every single race I have ever done in Tunisia has been free.  They pay for the refreshments, the prizes, the medals and the goodie bags all through sponsorships. Hats off people. I do appreciate it. I have a nice little collection of t-shirts now. I guess I'll never need to buy pyjamas again.

After the run we went to Le Barberrousse (#2 restaurant in Hammamet according to Mister Trip Advisor). It has a extensive Franco-Italian menu that is filled with all different seafood and pasta and excitement. No one even reads it. Every single table orders the catch of the day cooked in salt. If you don't, then you just don't know. Seriously. It's just that, a massive fish (our was a sea bass) cooked in a mountain of salt which then then, theatrically, break with a hammer at your table. Hammers in Hammamet... (did she really just write that?)

 

Some more good menu translations, I had to share these with you! hehe!

Then she looked at all she had done, and she saw that it was good. And on the Sabbath, she rested...

 And got REALLY BAD SUNBURN... doh!

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

Princess Dinners

The world over, the close of the Gregorian calendar brings an array of end-of-year parties, annual lunches and farewell dinners, and things are no different here in Tunis. In addition, I have recently moved teams at work and so I have had the added excitement of a leaving-lunch in my honour, which I had yesterday, and which will be the main content of today's story. But, before that, I must tell you about a few other restaurants which I've been lucky enough to visit in the last week:

1. Dar el Jeld

I had heard about this restaurant almost on arrival to Tunis and ever since then I have been hoping to pay a visit. Set in a renovated traditional Tunisian Villa right in the heart of the Tunis Medina, this restaurant boasts the highest quality Tunisian food (and the highest prices to match).

With a former classmate in town, my friend Jung set about getting a table with military-endurance and saint-like patience, and it certainly paid off. The restaurant is full to capacity every night and those tables are like gold dust.

With an enthusiastic music team and candles reflecting off of the floor to ceiling tiles, this place had ambience by the bucket load. Our waiter proudly gave us a tour of the house before dinner, which was a bit weird, as people were eating in the other rooms, but you couldn't blame him for wanting to show the place off. It was truly beautiful.

 Banging Decor

I had Couscous et Poisson (Sea Bass) which was completely divine, and was served with roasted apple (but controversial - perhaps Heston Blumenthal had paid them a visit?). Really beautiful food.

 Couscous et Poisson

For dessert, I had Crème Tunisienne, which was delicious.

2. Le Cap

Our Young Professional Christmas dinner was at Le Cap this year. Le Cap is a group of Restaurants and Bars in Gammarth which serve French/Lebanese/Libyan Fusion food. I had an incredible steak, but everything is superb there, even the little olive croissants that they serve with the starters.

I had been having wild chocolate cravings all day so I sated myself with a big fat Moelleux au Chocolat for puds... incroyable!

 The fruit was nothing to do with me

3. Circolo Italiano

My new team's Christmas lunch was held at the Italian Club, which is a strange little building close to the zoo, where, once you step inside, you are in Italy. The waiters only speak Italian, they serve real pork (be still my heart) and the TVs are somehow all showing Italian football. The food was exquisite, as always. I had Ravioli, as always. And they had darling Christmas Tree in the foyer, covered in gingerbread men and dried oranges.

Which brings me to yesterday's Princess Dinner:

4. Restaurant El Walima

So yesterday for lunch, my former team surprised me with lunch at Restaurant El Walima. Amazing. Let's take a break from all this food, for a history lesson:

When Tunisia was part of the Ottoman Empire in 1705, a royal family was installed, who ruled under the title of "Bey". The title was hereditary and was passed along the male line through the generations, even after Tunisia became a protectorate of France.

 

At the independence of Tunisia on 20th March (my birthday!) 1956, the Bey at that time, Muhammad VIII al-Amin, became King of Tunisia. A year later, the Prime Minister, Habib Bourguiba, declared Tunisia a Republic and the Bey dynasty came to an end. His daughter, the princess, opened a restaurant in downtown Tunis and now wears a traditional royal gown to serve diners a delicious Tunisian feast, Monday to Saturday

.

Little display for the Dey Dynasty on the wall - no, that is not the princess!

So while I didn't take a picture of the princess, here is the traditional Tunisian fare that we were served:

Starters: Clockwise from top left, 1. Lablabi, a spicy (with harissa) tomato soup with chickpeas, 2. Mloukhia, a bay leaf stew with okra and beef, 3. Noicer Pasta, which is little squares of pasta made from semolina, cooked in cinnamon  4. Mechouia Salad, salad made with boiled egg, tuna, sweet peppers and oil. And this, naturally was served with hot French bread.

Inbetweenies: Brik - which you have seen before, so I won't show you here.

Entree: There was lots of choice, but I had the prawns, which came with some mixed shell fish, salads and some chippies

Dessert: A fruit salad, which I won't show you here, because everyone knows what a fruit salad looks like - this one had lots of pineapple in.

Tea: The tea course was a mint tea with pinenuts and a Pistachio Tunisian Creme.

Afterwards I went back to my office and promptly fell into a coma.

Other things that are happening:

• I paid off my credit card bill, so my finances are finally looking healthy and lovely for the first time since buying my house. Promptly afterwards I sent a friend a long email about how we should go to Toulouse in January... so it seems that I may not have learnt my lesson...
• I ran 10km this morning. Very exciting - it was probably all that Princess Fuel. In less than an hour too, 59:05mins. Not all good though, as I did forget to bring my bra in my change of clothes - so I'm going to have to wear my sweaty sports bra all day... mmm...
• Anna Karenina... not happening....yet.

Maputo, Mozambique

Did you miss me? Did you think I wasn't coming back? Have faith people. I am here and I am staying. So sorry for the delay, I have been in Mozambique this week and although I initially thought I could have sent you a little mid-mission review, it was sadly impossible as work was insanely busy and I had hardly any downtime.

Anyways, I hope all is forgiven now, and that you enjoy my account below, of an incredible country that I couldn't possibly try to understand in the 6 short days that I was there, but still left a lasting impression on me.

The Journey
So the first thing to note was the journey. It was my first time flying long-haul business class and I stumbled through the process like a wide-eyed baby, pretending to be impressed by nothing, while secretly noting everything! The flight was quite roundabout, from Tunis to Frankfurt to Johannesburg to Maputo. The 10-hour flight from Frankfurt to Jo'burg was on the Airbus a380 and I squealed with delight as we were led upstairs! 

We had the fully reclining beds like on the adverts and they served us a three course meal - including Classically Roasted Goose for main course! It was my first time to have goose, so I didn't really mind if it was classically roasted or in a curry, I was excited. To top off the brilliance, I even managed to sneak a pair of wooden knitting needles on to the flight (don't panic people, I did have some more in my check-in luggage in case they had been confiscated). Only slightly less exciting than the flight itself, are the business lounges, where you can while away the hours, while enjoying free refreshments, wifi and shower facilities (not all at the same time).

I had a bit of a 'moment' landing in Johannesburg. It was my first time back in Sub-Saharan Africa since starting my new job, this trip was the final step in a year's worth of work for a report I had written, and it was exactly the same departure lounge that I had nervously sat in in 2006 on my first trip in Africa, as I awaited my transfer to Zambia. In these 6 years it's so hard to believe how much my life has changed, how fortunate I have been and how much love and support I've had from my friends and family, all of which have helped my to touch my dreams. At that moment, I just felt so happy and loved and blessed and fortunate, and it was really nice.

First Impressions

Maputo has a big new airport, everything was a breeze (facilitated by my diplomatic passport) and it didn't take long before we were zooming through the city to the hotel. And I mean 'zooming'. There is no traffic in Maputo. It's the first African capital that I have been to where the traffic level never really got up to much. You could regularly spend 3 hours in Kampala, just sitting in the same place (I used to keep a book in the glove compartment) and the work I did in Accra was all about how to manage the unbearable peak-traffic flows. But in Maputo, vehicles seemed in very good condition and there were not too many of them.

I was staying at a beautiful hotel on the Ocean, called the Serena Polena Hotel. I've been so fortunate to stay at a Serena hotel before in Stone Town, and I used to also have dinner at the Serena Kampala (in the Indiana Jones Restaurant!) so I've had a bit of experience with these hotels, which are part of the Aga Khan Development Network. I like the way they do things. They often take a old colonial building and vamp it up nicely. This is exactly how it was in Maputo. Our meeting were all in the hotel, so it's a good job that it was a nice one - and I saw ALOT of it!

Food

The food!! oh the food! I took an extremely gung-ho approach to prawn consumption and for the first couple of days had prawns at every single meal. This was not my best idea. I developed crippling stomach pains and things all became a bit... fluid. It was terrible. I instantly blamed the prawns - especially the ones from the buffet (Who eats buffet prawns... what was I thinking??). On the third night, I organised a big group exodus from the hotel to a local Portuguese restaurant and rather than 'go easy' on the food. I went a bit mental, as it all tasted so good, and I considered that given the state of my gastric system, this was all pretty much free-calories anyway. I was punished severely for this mentality and spend the rest of the trip eating dry toast and bananas.

The Glorious Prawns

I think I should take a moment to defend the prawns. The beautiful, delicious, fresh, pink prawns. You see, when I was in Uganda, I had become a bit of a Maverick. My colleagues who were still working from the UK office used to call me "Our girl in Africa", and I always aspired to be worthy of the title. I would brush my teeth in the tap water, my stomach had adapted to the Malarone, and I never gave second thought to having ice-cubes in my drink. I have to accept that I have become a pansy. I am not as strong or resilient as I was. So maybe it wasn't the prawns after all, although, they probably didn't help much!

Right at the end of the week on my free half-day, I did manage to try some really good traditional local food. The disk was called Matapa and it was basically a Crab, Peanut and Casava curry served with Rice (this is the stuff that my Dad's nightmares are made of).

Crab Matapa

I don't really know why it was green. But it was completely delicious. It was a bit bland, but then you get a dish of chillies in oil to spice it up with. Otherwise, fresh bread is a big thing in Mozambique, which is a contrast to East Africa, and of course, all seafood. I had a dynamite fish and chips on my last night. I was all euphoric because the work was all done, but so sad to be leaving after hardly seeing anything - business trips are weird.

 Fish & Chippies, be still my heart

Other things

• So Mozambique made a solid attempt at communism, and the evidence of this still exists with huge, sad, residential, high-rises in the middle of the city. They're a bit of an eye-sore now, but give the city a really southern European feel.

• Even though they were part of Portuguese East Africa, they drive on the left, because they know what's important.

• My Portuguese was terrible, I just about managed to say "good morning" to people. I learnt on the last day that "obrigado"/"obrigada" are gender sensitive to the person saying thank-you, not the recipient. So I had made a lot of mistakes there.

Some More Photos?

Yep, you know you want them!

Art sellers in Parque dos Continuadores

 

Chilli Vendor

Traditional Dancers

Throwing caution to the wind with a Portuguese Kebab

In car shopping on Julius Nyerere Road, tax disk holders and canaries

African Sunrise over the Indian Ocean

 Nice Menu Translation!

In other news I am starting Anna Karenina today. The translation I have is 850 pages long - which is 100 pages longer than Nelson Mandela's 'Long Walk to Freedom'...oh man... I think I'm going to do a targeted strategy: If I read 25 pages a day... I'll finish it in the UK and be able to watch the new film at the cinema. I just finished another translated book by a Russian author, so I feel well prepped. Here is goes.