hookah Archives - Wandering North

Africa Sudan Sudan-South Sudan trip 2022

A Trip to Tuti Island in Khartoum

My final day in Khartoum was a Friday. I planned it that way so that I could attend Sufi night in the evening (which I did do, but will put in a different post), but I had nothing planned for the day. I walked without any destination. The streets were quiet and it was hot. I stopped for Sudanese coffee under shady trees whenever possible. I ended up by the banks of the Nile and at the foot of one of the bridges. Across it was Tuti Island. I knew about the island and had figured I would check it out if I had the time. And so I walked across the bridge.

You aren’t technically allowed to take pictures from the bridges. I did sneak one or two, just for that view of the Nile.

On the side of the bridge where I entered I was in Khartoum. A big city. Not exactly bustling, but definitively a city. On the other side, in Tuti Island, it is like a completely different place. Green. Fields of grass being munched on by goats and horses. Fruit trees. People making bricks by hand outdoors. Little shacks or awnings of wood and tarp with shisha cafes and outdoor pool tables. It just felt like this little oasis. An island in the middle of the Nile. Peaceful.

I walked around and took in the atmosphere. There are some streets with houses and businesses, but most of it is just agricultural green space.

Once I had I my fill, I walked back to the foot of the bridge where the semi al fresco cafes were. I was sweaty and hot and stood gazing around when a guy approached me, speaking in English. A Sudanese guy who, I soon found out, had lived in Toronto, Canada for several years where he picked up the language and a love of the Toronto Raptors (basketball). He in invited me in to the shady part of his café and I was soon sitting with a fan blowing on me, a hookah alight, coffee and sweet treats. (He refused to take any payment, though I did leave a tip.)

I chatted with him for about an hour. A really good guy named Mohammed. We talked about social/political leaders – his café had pictures of Malcolm X, Bob Marley, Che Guevara and the like. And he was very open about life in Sudan under the (then) political regime. He said that weekly protests were not as peaceful as people were saying; that a friend of his was killed by a sniper. He got teary eyed when he talked about the poverty and children that didn’t have enough to eat. He seemed to know all the kids in the area and gave them fruits when they came by. He was just such a kind and hospitable soul (like so many people I met in Sudan, but because he spoke English so well I was able to really connect with him). It was a lovely chat with a lovely fellow in a beautiful spot.

I departed and went back to my hotel for a bit of a refresh before going to see the Sufis.

Postscript: Since the violence erupted in Khartoum a few months later, I wonder what happened to him. I guess I’ll never know.

Africa Sudan Sudan-South Sudan trip 2022

Visiting Khartoum

As discussed in a previous post, I had finally been able to visit Khartoum. Often I will breeze through a city in a couple of days, but this time I planned to spend nearly a week in Khartoum. I don’t know why, but I just had a feeling like I was going to like it. Plus, there isn’t a lot to do there. Not a lot of formal attractions, so I felt like it might be nice to go there and just hang out and relax. This idea, of going to Sudan to relax was mystifying to the women seated near me on my flight. Thy were all going for work and would not have gone for any other reason. Fortunately, I was right.

I loved Khartoum. It had many elements of a more middle eastern / Arabic city, like a little Cairo, but it also felt like a proper more southern African city. That won’t really make much sense unless you have been to both kinds of cities, but it just felt unique. Political instability and excessive soldier presence aside, it has a wonderfully relaxed vibe. I enjoyed several days of visiting the city and two days visiting outside the city to see the pyramids and temples.

I can’t talk about Khartoum and not say how great my hotel was. I stayed at the Acropole, which is a family run hotel, the oldest still in operation. It has a perfect location for walking and all the services and support you could want for doing trips out of the city and dealing with Sudanese bureaucracy. I was drawn to it for two reasons: 1) I read that archaeologists and news reporters stayed there (I had visions of myself hanging out with journalists and swapping stories over whisky; and 2) giant balconies – perfect for my evening cigars. I really lucked out. The place was lousy with archaeologists when I was there, and I even got to have lunch with a few of them. (I must have been so annoying; assaulting them with questions like machine gun fire.) The family running the hotel was lovely and, yes, the balconies were perfect for smoking cigars over late night chats. NO swapping stories with BBC correspondents, but with other types of foreign workers and expats. The hotel seems to be a hub for social activities. Perfect for a solo wanderer like me. It was a bit over my preferred budget but was worth every penny. (I am not being paid to say this; it just was a big part of why my trip was so great. I met so many wonderful people.)

I arrived late one night and set out early the next morning to see the city. I can see why many people say one day is good. There wasn’t much to ‘do’. The museums were closed for reasons I could not determine.

There are some lovely colonial era, grand buildings to gawk at, but you can’t photograph any of them and there are lots of police (uniformed and not) who will give you trouble if you do. It is a pity because there are so many government buildings. Some very pretty and some imposing with tanks out front, but all of it is left to my memories. Well, except…there was this one restaurant I went to that was on the roof of a tall building and gave good views over Khartoum and the Nile, from there you can see many of the buildings that are otherwise off limits, including the courthouse and the library building.

So on two of my days I just walked around the different areas. I checked out some street art and smoked shisha along the banks of the Nile, under a bridge, where locals gathered to drink coffee, smoke, and get out of the sun.

I walked around the central souq, and up and down the streets that were mostly pretty quiet. I wandered by mosques and churches, investigated shops, and paid a visit to a tiny art gallery.

I visited the University, which was pleasant and leafy. Not much to see there unless you go in the afternoon, when I am told there are lots of monkeys out and about. I saw only students.

One of the best things about walking about Khartoum is there is coffee everywhere. Not so much as ‘regular’ cafes, but these excellent, roadside improvised cafes under trees. They are all similarly set up: a woman with small, low-to-the-ground cart where she can boil water and hold a variety of spices, coffee, and sugar will make Sudanese coffee and patrons will sit on little, colorful woven seats and relax and enjoy. The coffee is like Arabic/Turkish coffee, but with a mix of spices, including lots of ginger. I think there is other stuff in there – cinnamon probably, cardamom maybe – but a big hit of ginger and a good dose of sugar. You don’t think ginger belongs in coffee? That’s only because you haven’t had it. I drank as much as I could, knowing I wouldn’t be able to anywhere else. I am still thinking about it.

So two of my days in Khartoum were spent basically that way: just walking and exploring and loving it.

Also, on those days, I ended up being very social. I mentioned the lunch with the archaeologists, but I also connected with a girl I ‘met’ through Instagram. She is from America but has lived in Sudan for many years. We met up for coffee and then she, a fellow from the hotel, and a guy from Switzerland/Germany/Australia who works part of the year in Central and Eastern Africa. We went out for shisha and dinner at this excellent Lebanese restaurant next to the Canadian embassy. One evening with this trio and I was loving Khartoum. I felt like I got this rare glimpse into what it is like to live there as an expat or a certain type of local, a bit of insight into the political and security situation, and a good amount of local gossip. It was a lot of fun. (IF any of them read this they will know who they are, but I don’t want to use their names out of respect for their privacy.)

*Assaha – Lebanese restaurant and shisha spot*

On the next of my aimless wandering days in Khartoum, I and the fellow from the hotel went to the home of another local guy who had this fabulous loft style apartment in a fancy area of town. We went out for Thai food with a girl from Mexico, living in Khartoum. Again, just another excellent evening. On my final night I went to a party at that same loft. I have never been so social. It was easy to talk with everyone and everyone was so interesting.

For all of this talk of wandering around in Khartoum and there being nothing specific to do; that’s not entirely true. Unless / until the museums reopen, there are still a few things worth making a point of going to: the souq at Omdurman, Tutti Island in the Nile, the camel market, the Sufi night, and the Nubian wrestling. Unfortunately, the wrestling and the Sufis happen on the same evening so you can’t do both. I opted for the Sufis. I will post about that and the souq and camel market separately.

A few practical things, since I keep getting asked.

Sudan is an Islamic country and I dressed accordingly. A long flowy skirt to my ankles and some kind of high-necked, long-sleeved top. I did not have to cover my head. I probably didn’t have to dress so modestly, but I think that is the better way to go. One day I went walking by myself wearing something less modest and I felt a bit uncomfortable.

Few people spoke English.

Cash is king in Sudan. The rest of the world still has embargoes and sanctions against Sudan, which prevents any foreign credit and bank cards from being used. This means, bring your money in cash (pristine US dollars is best) and budget accordingly. Upon exchanging a small amount, you will be given a brick of Sudanese pounds, so exchange as you go.

I never felt unsafe. That said, I didn’t spend much time out alone at night. I don’t think it is a dangerous place, but since the 2021 coup, the cost of living has gone up a lot and that kind of poverty can breed desperation, so why chance it. Plus, outside of one neighbourhood, Khartoum didn’t seem to have a bustling nightlife.

The people were very friendly and hospitable.

I can’t say enough good things about it. Almost every week since I was there, I have a dream that I am back. That’s not normal for me and I think it speaks to how much I loved it.

More to follow about things I did in Khartoum, and excursions to Meroë, Musawwarat es-Sufra, and Naqa.

Asia Iraq Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022 Kurdistan

Arrival in Iraqi Kurdistan

I decided to go to Iraqi Kurdistan in Northern Iraq. As with so many of my trips, I didn’t really have a good reason; just an interest and a winnowing down of alternative destinations based on weather, or covid restrictions, or where I went last. So I booked myself a flight to Erbil (also spelled Irbil or called Hawler).

Let’s get this out of the way right off the top: Iraq / Kurdistan / Iraqi Kurdistan? What I am I talking about? Iraq, as we all know, is a country. A high profile one. The capital is Baghdad. It is famous for, amongst other things, Saddam Hussein and Aladdin. That’s straightforward. Where things get murky is the Northern bit, which is where I went. I’m not going o attempt to break down the history of the Kurds or Iraq or the Middle East generally, but suffice it to say that the northern part of the country of Iraq is under control of the Kurds, which is why it is often called Kurdistan. Though Kurdistan also broadly refers to lands in several countries, like Iran and Turkey, where many Kurdish people live.

*Map of Kuridstan – where the Kurdish people traditionally and predominantly live*

The northern, Kurdish part of Iraq has its own government, flag, laws, visa system, etc…but it isn’t technically its own country.(At least not in the narrow, UN-defined definition of country.)This is always a treacherous topic and places like Scotland, Palestine, Tibet, Taiwan, and Kurdistan are amongst those places where statehood is…a matter of some debate. I’m not going to go down that path. According to the map and the stamp in my passport, the currency in my wallet, and the address of my hotel, etc, I was in Iraq, but I know that merely calling it Iraq is not entirely accurate and is also disrespectful to the Kurdish people, who have fought for their independence, so I have been saying I was in Iraqi Kurdistan or Northern Iraq, depending on my audience and how comfortable they are with geography and history.

Erbil is the capital of Iraqi Kurdistan and one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. (You will see it on the map above near Mosul.) As far as human civilization, it dates back to about 5,000 BCE. Over the centuries it has been a part of a long list of empires from the Assyrians to the Ottomans. It is all very interesting, but this isn’t ‘Wandering Encyclopedia Britannica’, so for a proper history, you should probably read a book, but it is worth looking into, even if all you is read the history section of an Iraq travel book.

People speak Kurdish there, but may also speak Arabic. It is a Muslim part of the world. It is in a mountainous region and in fact the month before I arrived, they had snow. So this is not the rolling desert terrain you might be imaging. I was there in February. It was cool in the evening and pleasantly warm in the day. A lot of the trees were still waiting for their spring greenery and there was not a lot of flowers, but there was some evergreen plants and grasses around. It would probably be more pretty in the Summer, but also brutally hot. I thought it was perfect.

I learned a few words and phrases in Kurdish, which proved to be mostly helpful in impressing people with my efforts. Those that spoke English were happy to do so, and with those that did not, I relied on my excellent combination of charades and smiling.

I landed at the airport, flashed my PCR test and vaccination status (the former was required the latter was not, which was different from what was on the government website) and got a visa on arrival, which is available to people from many countries, including Canada. The visa required no paperwork, but does demand a fee of $70 or $75 US (it seems to fluctuate). No questions asked, I breezed through. I changed some money to Iraqi Dinars. And I was in Iraqi Kurdistan.

The sun was just setting as I took a taxi into the city. It wasn’t immediately impressive, but nor was it off-putting.

I was staying at the Erbil View Hotel. Not a bargain, but one of the better options available. Erbil does not have hostels. It does have some budget hotels in the centre, but you can’t book them online and even in walking around, none of them were immediately apparent. So I guess if you are really on a budget, the thing to do would be to book a first night at a pricier hotel and then look for a cheaper option. I stayed put. The reception staff (who were lovely) upgraded me to a suite that was easily twice the size of my apartment and very comfortable. And…smoking was allowed!

But I didn’t have time to lounge in my room. I set out for the centre. It was dark but I had figured out my walking route ahead of time. (Time studying maps ahead of time always pays off.) In about 10 minutes I was at the centre, in between the citadel and the bazaar, surrounded by tons of people enjoying the evening in the square.

Everything was bustling. Families and friends out, drinking tea, people walked around selling nuts and fruits and cotton candy and balloons. It had a festive air. Not what you think of when you imagine Iraq – even Iraqi Kurdistan – after dark.

I did sort of a loop around, dazzled by how bright and colorful everything seemed. (Admittedly I was probably delirious from that cocktail of jet lag and excitement.)

I was starving but realized pretty quickly that none of the restaurants had vegetarian food. One man said he could barbeque me some tomatoes, but I passed. Fortunately, the streets radiating out from the bazaar were lined with street food vendors. Most of it was meat, but there was also falafel. Joy! Perfectly fresh falafel made for throngs of hungry people who crowded around. It was served in soft, pointy pita-style bread and covered with pickled vegetables and spicy yellow sauce. And it was about 60 cents. Canadian.

Satiated, and not ready to return to my room, I walked to the most appealing place: a 2^nd floor patio decked out with Christmas lights and producing plumes of fruity smoke. Shisha and falafel, the perfect combination.

It was packed, but I found a seat and puffed away on a lemon mint shisha combo, while sipping on lemonade and snacking on pistachios and cashews. It was mostly young, local people. I didn’t see any other tourists (nor did I for the rest of the trip.) I was content. I had made it and it was off to a good start.

I walked a slightly different path back to my hotel and slept, excited for the next day when I could really explore. (There will be more photos on the next post. Most of the ones on this first night came out dark and blurry. What can I say? It was dark and I was excited.)

Asia Jordan

Return to Amman

I returned from Wadi Rum in the evening and mostly I just went for a walk and smoked shisha before bed. The next day I roughed out a bit of a walking route for myself to see some of the things I hadn’t seen on my first day in Jordan. I walked from my hotel (the Jordan Tower Hotel) to the Jordan Museum, past shops and traffic, cages of scraggy birds for sale, and men having tea.

*my new lodgings* – *designed for ‘chillaxing’*

The museum didn’t seem to be fully open; it was just the first floor, but I was a bit grateful for that. I didn’t really want to feel obligated to spend hours there; I just wanted to get a bit of a taste, which this was. And it was good. Especially the creepy ~6000 year old mannequin type statues and clay pots used to bury children’s bones.

From the museum I was going to walk to this area around the Paris circle. It didn’t look far, but I was, as before, stymied by Amman’s dramatic hills. The route I needed to go involved an endless looking flight of stairs. I would have needed a lot more energy – or a grappling hook – and I wasn’t in the mood, so I took a taxi (cheap and plentiful.)

I decided to go to Paris Circle mostly because there were supposed to be a bunch of excellent cafés and art galleries there. I didn’t see much in the way of art galleries, but I can vouch for the cafes. There are less traditional Jordanian and more European or fancy North American style. Lovely though. And I was thankful for the leafy patio, strong americano and cardamom rose cake I enjoyed at Café Rumi.

From there I walked to the Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts. A pleasant stroll.

The gallery is actually in three buildings around a small park. I had planned to visit all three, but I went to one building (the first I came upon) and visited just that one. It was excellent. It was small and just a few floors and filled with modern art by artists from countries mostly in the middle east – countries that I don’t usually see art from. Yemen, Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Bangladesh, Sudan, etc. It was just excellent.

*Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts* – building 2

Almost as good, is that on the roof of this gallery building is a lovely café (the Jungle Fever coffee and tea house). I know, I was just at a café, but it was very hot, and I had walked a lot already. The rooftop patio has wonderful views over the city and colorful cushions. It was a nice place. The sort of café filled with young people on laptops. I had two iced teas and chatted with a college girl studying for a biology exam who told me how she wants tattoos. I also dozed off momentarily in the comfortable seats.

I left my new wishfully tattooed friend and walked over to the King Abdullah I Mosque, the huge, blue-domed mosque that is a landmark in Amman. Honestly, it isn’t much on the inside, but it is nice to see up close from the outside and appreciate the tiles and design.

Back to my neighbourhood around the Jordan Tower hotel, I chatted with one of the guys working there – a super pleasant fellow with a fascination with serial killers – and then spontaneously ended up joining a free walking tour of the market area around the hotel.

I had already been to the markets, but it was nice to be able to go with this guide and his two other guests (from Colombia) as I could ask questions and take more photos that I had felt comfortable doing on my own. I also got tips on where the best shisha was in the area, and we got to try the kunafeh (a delicate pastry with white cheese and rose water) from Habibah that every night I saw people queuing up down the street and around the block to get. I had wanted to try it, but was dead set against the queue.

I finished the night with some of that recommended shisha and slept happily. I really like Amman, but after my second, very full day there I was satisfied. I had one day left in Jordan and my sights were set on Jerash.

Asia Jordan

Amman Arrival

Why Jordan / Why Now

When Canada dropped the covid quarantine requirement for its returning, vaccinated travellers, I knew it was time to plan something. I had been to Ukraine a couple months prior and that went well so it was time go farther afield. The number one place I wanted to go was Jordan.

Jordan had been high on my list of places to go for many years. Decades, really. But somehow I never went. As I visited other big heritage sights (the pyramids in Egypt, Machu Picchu, Abu Simbel, Lalibela, etc) I sort of held on to Jordan, figuring I would go there one day and I liked having Petra in the future, as something to look forward to. Then the pandemic hit and travel was effectively taken away for a time and I thought that Jordan, and Petra in particular, would be the place I would go as soon as I was able. No more putting it off; ‘one day’ may never come. And so I went.

Covid Travel

I flew to Amman from Vancouver via Toronto and Doha, covid tests, vaccination forms, pre-approval paperwork all in hand. It is easy in this time of travel to get frustrated by the queues, the ever-changing restrictions, the paperwork. I could spend half my time I airports feeling frustrated by the rules and the other half of my time feeling irritated by the people who do not follow the rules, but instead I have adopted a mantra of “I’m just happy to be here.” Whenever I want to simmer about yet another hour long queue to show my paperwork yet again or about the person seated next to me on the plane who just refuses to wear their mask, I just remind myself that I am just happy to be traveling, hoops and all.

As of the writing of this, to enter Jordan without a quarantine or test at the border, you must be double vaccinated with an approved vaccine and have pre filled out a form through the https://www.visitjordan.gov.jo that gives you a QR card that you show before boarding and again on arrival. Officially, masks and gloves are required in all indoor, public places, but I didn’t see a single person wearing gloves and mask use was…inconsistent at best. But all of that may change at any minute.

Amman

I arrived in Amman at about 11pm and by 11:30 was pulling up to my hostel (the Cabin Hostel) in the heart of the city and was delighted to see that even at that late hour, the city was alive. Everything was open and the streets were busy. I don’t know why people would be shopping for suits and spices at close to midnight, but if it strikes your fancy, you can do it in Amman.

The Cabin Hostel, by the way, is perfect. You couldn’t ask for a better location, surrounded by inviting cafes and restaurants, on the edge of the souks, and a short walk from both the Citadel and the Roman Theatre. It has cozy dorms and serviceable private rooms, and a shady rooftop for breakfasts and general socializing. And it is cheap.

The next morning, I set off early with my sights set on the Citadel. The map showed that it was not far – and it isn’t – but the thing I quickly realized about Amman is that they don’t call it the city of seven hills for nothing. Indeed, that might be an understatement. It seemed that everywhere I went I was walking uphill. In some areas the hills were so steep that the sidewalks just became daunting staircases. All the better to work up an appetite for falafel. It was fine, if not leisurely, for walking. It was hot though. As a demonstration, this is me as I left my hostel that morning:

And this is my one hour later, red-faced and sweaty, though quite happy:

The Citadel is an historical site occupied since about 1800 BC and is most famous for being the site of the Temple of Hercules, of which several columns remain and, fantastically, has the remnants of a massive statue of Hercules. It’s just a part of a hand and an elbow but they are large and delicately carved. The original monument must have been amazing.

The Citadel also offers great views of the city.

From there I meandered my way down to the 2^nd century Roman theatre.

And then I wandered the streets, visiting the souks and a few mosques.

I saw the first of some excellent street art murals.

Exhausted from the heat and the walking I spotted an inviting balcony on a second level of a building and popped in for some fresh lemon mint juice and a matching lemon mint shisha, happy for the breeze and for a bit of distance from the hectic streets. The waiter did not speak English, but continually stopped by my table to mutter things to me. On my way out, just as I began descending the stairs to leave, he approached me and grabbed my hand, pulling me for a kiss. I gave him a sharp “No” and shoved him back against the wall. He accepted his defeat and simply said goodbye. In English. I thought, “Great, am I going to have to deal with this bullshit the whole trip?” Thankfully, I did not and that was the only bit of harassment I faced.

I walked (really, climbed) to Rainbow Street, which is a street full of eateries, shops, and galleries, for dinner. I wasn’t crazy about it. Everything seemed a little too expensive and not that appealing, but my opinion on that seems to be the minority.

I finished the day joining the masses wandering around the souq area near my hostel at night, enjoying the reprieve from the heat, until finally settling in on a quite alley for some fresh fruit juice and a cigar, watching the crowds and the on again-off again amorous advances of the many stray cats.

It was a packed day. I didn’t see everything of course, but it was a good start, and I would be back at the end of my trip, but the next day was a trip down the King’s Highway to Petra.

Asia Oman Pakistan/Oman trip 2020

Sand & Sky in Oman

Day two in Oman I left the city in search of a little desert time. It is possible to rent a car and drive oneself, but as I cannot drive, I hired a driver/guide to show me dunes and oases. It was about a three-hour drive, but was very pleasant, watching the landscapes and chatting with the driver, who was from Egypt but was able to answer all of my questions about Oman.

Desert Dunes

We arrived at a small town on the edge of the desert where the Bedouins live. At some point, the Sultan had all the Bedouins move to the edge of the desert and gave them land to do so, so they are not nomadic as they once were.

In the town were modest houses and pens of goats and camels.

And then there was sand. Glorious, beautiful, rolling dunes of sand ranging from light tan to deep ochre. I could not stop being amazed by the varied contrasts between sand and sky. We drove over the dunes, sometimes doing sharp turns or driving down steep dunes such that it felt like me might topple over.

And whenever I felt like, it I walked (ran, staggered, crawled) up and over the dunes, which is exhausting, but very fun. And then I leaped or rolled back down to the bottom.

That’s about all there was to do, but I loved it. Until the combination of the hot sun combined with the motion of the ‘dune bashing’ made me feel a little ill. No matter, as the next stop would be a swim in a desert oasis.

Wadi Bani Khalid

We drove to Wadi Bani Khalid, a desert oasis popular with locals and tourists alike. It is a long stretch of blue water set between rocky cliffs, fringed with palm trees. It looked like it was out of a movie.

I wanted to go swimming, so I had worn my bathing suit under my clothes, but as it turns out, bathing suits are not allowed. There are strict laws around what can be worn. Men can swim in long shorts and t-shirts. Women must wear the same, or can wear a long skirt or trousers.

So I swam in ankle-length leggings and my bathing suit. My guide said it was ok to have my bare arms. And there was a guy there keeping tabs on the modesty, walking around, observing the attire; clipboard in hand.

The water felt wonderful. I swam from the open pond area, down a narrowing stretch of water to the end. From there it was a short walk over slippery rocks to another pool and small waterfall.

None of it seemed real, it was so lovely.

It was quite busy when we were there, but most people weren’t swimming; they were picnicking or walking by the shore.

After that, we drove back to Muscat.

I had mentioned that I wanted to smoke some shisha, so my driver dropped me off at an Egyptian hookah café for an hour whilst he tended to some business. I had some double apple shisha, falafel and Turkish coffee while watching “Braveheart” on a big screen TV. (Music was still banned due to the Sultan’s recent death.)

I was then returned to my hotel. I went for a walk but otherwise stayed in and packed, and slept early as I had a middle-of-the-night flight to Lahore, Pakistan.

I know there is more to see in Oman, but my two days there left me satisfied. I liked it a lot but I was ready for the comparative noise and activity of big-city Pakistan.

Africa Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

Departing Djerba

Day three on Djerba. I had (have) a 5:00 flight, so I just planned to have a relaxing day. Of course I woke up early with the first call to prayer announcing morning. I just lazed about. Had a slow breakfast. Decided to go on a walk. I was delighted to find that one of the main streets, which had been empty since I arrived had been transformed into a bustling marketplace that spilled out onto the side streets.

It wasn’t a touristy market, but one for locals. Shoes, clothing, fabric, pots & pans, spices…just regular stuff but it was a lot of fun to walk through. The merchants still tried to sell me their goods, usually calling out to me in Russian to catch my attention. It was the same thing in Turkey. I really should learn Russian for how often I am mistaken for a national. (Except in Ethiopia and Burkina Faso where I was often mistaken for Japanese.)

I talked with some locals who lamented the lack of tourists since the revolution. It is true that there are not a lot of them here, which has been lovely for me to avoid crowds, but it must be so difficult for the people who rely on tourists for income. Seriously, people should come here. It is beautiful and filled with history and culture. And it is easy to travel in. And cheap.

Back to the market. At the other end of the street was the —- fort sitting at the edge of the sea. I walked the ramparts and looked around before heading back to the area around my hotel. I did a little shopping, had a lunch of vegetable ragout, smoked some apple shisha, and headed to the airport.

It was a good, final day in Djerba, which I have loved. What I don’t love is that my flight back to Tunis is delayed by an hour so far, with no information as to when it will depart. This is the fifth TunisAir flight I have taken and they each have been delayed by more than one hour. Another was cancelled altogether. The airport here doesn’t exactly have amusements. One cafe with a few sad looking sandwiches. No shops. No wifi. (I will post this when I am back in Tunis.) on the plus side, I have books, music, and podcasts, and have caught up on my postcard sending. I don’t really mind the delay; I didn’t have any plans for this evening in Tunis except for enjoying my slightly posh hotel room. I shall use this time, stranded at the airport, to do what my mother would advise, which is to relish in the opportunity to relax and do nothing, for there is noting to do.

EPLIOGUE
My flight ended up bring cancelled. And so was the next one. They arranged for a new flight but not everyone could get on. Overall, I spent 8 hours at the airport. Not agony, but far from idea. I did mean a British/American woman and her Tunisian fiancé who were trying to get to Tunis for their wedding, which ensured them a spot on the plane. We also told the airport check in people that I was a bridesmaid at the wedding, which got me on the plane as well. On the plane, I learned from a Tunisian/German man that the taxis in Tunis were on strike. This would have delayed my arrival in Tunisia by hours, but the man connected me with another Tunisian man sitting in front of me, who said his wife, who was picking him up, would drive me to my hotel. And they did. Now I am in Tunis, already forgetting about the huge airport delay and looking forward to tomorrow.

Africa Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

El Jem

On my second day in Sousse I decided to visit El Jem, a small city about an hour away, which is notable for its fairly well-preserved amphitheater dating to ~230. I know I just said i was over Roman ruins, but this isn’t ruins per se, it’s a structure, not rubble.

I had a bit of time before the train so I walked around some more and followed a small tour group of Germans into the courtyard of the great mosque.

I took the train, which was cheap and pleasant. The scenery wasn’t much to look at – dry land, cacti, boxy villages, and rows upon rows of olive trees. In El Jem, it was easy to figure out where to go: walk towards the giant amphitheater.

It really was quite impressive. It held about 30,000 spectators in its day, all there to see battle between men and beasts. It was fun to scramble around on the various levels and explore the tunnels underground where the combatants waited for their (presumably final) moments.

It is very much like the Colosseum in Rome, but just a bit smaller, with FAR fewer tourists, and 100% more camels.

While there i ran into a girl I had met in Tunis, from Shanghai and traveling solo. We hung out together for a while, walking the site and having coffee.

Then it was time to return to Sousse. And that is when the misadventure began. The train was not running again until after 6pm, and even then was not going to Sousse, but to a nearby town. The main bus station was missing, as was any information about it. So we decided to take the louage – a shared minivan, lie a marshrutka – very common for locals. The girl I was with had taken it to El Jem and had not had any problems, so we walked to the station. One louage was just leaving for Sousse (full). There was no way to know when another would arrive, but there were at least 39 people waiting. The way they work is the van leaves when full, but each van only holds 8 people, so it looked like we might be there a while. I tried to convince a taxi to drive us (and was prepared to pay handsomely for it) but no one would agree. Back to the louage station and even more people were waiting to go to Sousse. We quickly realized that there was no order to the boarding of the louage. When one arrived for Sousse, people rushed at it, cramming and pushing on. It was mayhem. I realized that if i was going to get to Sousse, I was going to have to take extreme measures.

The next time a louage with the Sousse sign on it drove into the station, I and others, ran towards the vehicle, while it was driving. One guy opened the panel door and jumped in, while the vehicle drove. Then a girl and her friend. Then i grabbed on to the seat back, pulled myself in, and my temporary traveling companion followed. As we did so, other people tried to push us out of the way so they could do the same. By the time the van came to a stop, it was already full. It may not have been driving super fast, but I still felt like a low level action hero.

Once on board, a full on argument broke out between the two women sitting behind us and the driver. There was yelling in Arabic happening for like 5 minutes. The whole time, I was stressed that we were going to be kicked off for some minor infraction. One of the women was lightly slapped in the face by some man. Then things were quiet and we left, my heart beating.

Following that melee, the evening was relaxing. I had some super spicy, Tunisian vegetable dish, followed by shisha at a kind of fancy salon de thé. Then I went to bed, because the next morning I was being picked up at 3:30am for a flight to France..and then back to Tunisia.

Africa Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

Carthage & Sidi Bou Said

Day two in Tunis i took the train North to Carthage and Sidi Bou Said. Having mastered the medina (well, the middle bit) I walked from my hostel to the train station and bought a 2nd class ticket for Carthage.

A 2nd class ticket for the ~35 minute ride was less than a dollar. First class was 2 or 3 times more. The only difference between classes was the padding on the seats and how crowded 2nd class gets. It was an easy train ride; the stations were marked and the map made sense. I got off at Carthage Hannibal to see the ruins of Carthage.

A word of advice if you are reading this and trip planning, as the site is not at all well marked. To get to Bursa Hill and the museum and surrounding sights, walk up the hill from the train station (with your back to the water). At about the top of the hill is a road on the left heading further uphill. Take that road. If you start going downhill, you’ve gone too far. Do not, as I did, keep walking for another 30+ minutes only to have to turn around and go back.

So, Carthage is an important city – in history, literature, and culture. Founded in around 815 BCE, it is ancient and many ruins remain. There was no way I was not going to go, and I’m glad I did…but I think i enjoyed the train ride and the walk more than the sights. If I had never seen Roman or Greek ruins before I might have found it fascinating, but I have and I’ve seen more impressive ones. I felt like kind of guilty walking around, looking at a few erect columns, the foundations of what were once great structures, and piles of stones, and being underwhelmed. I stood, at times, looking at a partial wall or bit of stone and trying to feel something akin to awe or genuine interest, but I found my mind wandering to the juice stand I had passed earlier or whether I had applied adequate sunscreen.

It just required a bit too much imagination. Certainly it gives the history some context, which I like, but i just can’t get excited about ruins anymore unless they resemble what they were, like the colosseum or Ephesus. After about two hours I was done.

Back on the train, I went to Sidi Bou Said, an impossibly picturesque town atop a hill overlooking the sea. The whole town is whitewashed with blue shutters, doors, and accents. Purple flowering vines creep over walls and orange trees fill the air with the strong scent of their blossoms.

It is definitely a tourist draw, but rightly so. It was a delight to walk the streets, at each turn another perfect sight. Around the edges shops sold pottery, dresses, paintings, and souvenirs. Cafés, ice cream stands, and sidewalk sweets vendors lured in the visitors. I had lunch at a curb side eatery: vegetarian couscous.

I trained back to Tunis, with more than enough time to nap, walk without purpose, and smoke a hookah as the sun set. I love how one day in Tunis one can walk down a street in the medina and it is just an empty passage, and the next day the same street is lined with chairs and tables, filled with people (men mostly) drinking coffee and tea and smoking shisha and cigarettes. Like pop up cafés. Very enjoyable. I had the classic combo of apple tobacco and Turkish coffee and watched people wander by.

The fact that I was able to find my way back to my hostel in the medina in the dark without a map, was a minor victory.

Africa Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

Arrival in Tunisia

I didn’t have any particular reason for choosing Tunisia, other than that I love Islamic countries and Tunisia is small enough to be manageable in two weeks, but also has a mix of desert, sea, history, and culture.

My flight from Zurich to Tunis was cancelled and the the new flight was delayed, so instead of arriving in the morning, I was arriving late at night. I don’t like getting into a strange city at night. I’m tired, the city seems weird, info booths and money changers are closed, and public transit is not running regularly or at all. So I wasn’t happy about that, but at least I had arrived. I went outside to the taxi stand and haggled them down from 40 to 20 dinars (still too much, but reasonable) and was glad to be en route to my hostel in the medina.

The car drove into the medina until the road became too narrow. The driver called the hostel and someone was going to walk down and fetch me as it is a bit of a maze. I handed the driver two 10 dinar notes and 3 dinar coins. The driver paused, did something with his hands and told me I had only given him one 10 dinar note. I was annoyed. I knew I had given him two because I looked at each of them as I took them out of my wallet as I am not familiar with the currency. I got out of the car. He got out of the car. We argue. He insisted i am trying to stiff him. I insisted he is mistaken (but I am certain he is lying). Finally, as the guy from the hostel arrived, I gave in and gave the driver another 10 – still insisting that the ‘error’ was not mine. I was just tired and wanted to go. I walked off with the guy from the hostel. About 3 minutes later, the driver came running up to us and gave me 10 dinars. He said he found it in the front seat. Faith in taxi drivers restored. Seriously. He didn’t have to come back and give me the money. This bodes well for Tunisia.

After that, it was midnight and I basically went to bed.

The next day, I was able to appreciate my accommodations. The Dar-El Hostel. Tucked away in the maze of the medina on a narrow street, behind one of Tunis’ ubiquitous blue studded doors, the interior is covered in tiles and is about 200 or 300 years old. My room is enormous and cozy at the same time.

I had planned to spend the first day exploring the medina and the colonial section beyond. As i was leaving the hostel, the fellow from the hotel was walking two young chaps to the train station, so i tagged along for the walk and accompanied my guide back to the medina entrance, chatting along the way about life in Tunisia, about how I should be open to having a relationship, and the Fast and Furious movies. A wide ranging conversation.

Then I was on my own. I walked the length of Habib Bouguiba street, which is lined with grand, French architecture in a variety of styles and rows of sidewalk cafes. The street meant to look like Champs Elysees, and it is, except that it is charming.

I had an espresso at a café. The great thing here is that you can order a coffee, for like $1, and sit there for ages. I saw so many people, locals, sitting for an hour or more after they finished their coffee. It was great for people watching.

I then visited the big cathedral, stopped for an obligatory touristy selfie, and headed into the medina. Medinas are basically really old walled cities and are tangled webs of streets, paths, lanes, and alleys in no discernible order. This medina dates back to the 7th century and it shows. It feels ancient. In places the stones are worn down to smooth, rounded slivers, like well-used bars of soap. The walls are high and imposing, to keep enemies out. Today the walled streets hide homes, courtyards, mosques, and restaurants. Some of the passages are quiet and with nothing to see other than doorways (exquisite though they are here); others are lined with market stalls selling touristy items, spices, hookahs, clothing, soap, herbs…et cetera.

It is all fascinating to explore. A map may be of some use, but it is better to just walk and explore without purpose. Eventually you will hit a wall or landmark from which to orientate yourself.

I walked for hours. Eventually i stopped at this super charming cafe (photos do not do it justice) and smoked shisha, watching people walking past.

There are tourists here, but not a lot, which is nice. My basic French is passable, but many people also speak English, as well as Arabic. All of my clothing (both outfits) are appropriate here. Some women dress very conservatively (long, loose dress or coat and veil), but most just wear a headscarf, and some none at all. There is just no exposed arms and legs that I have seen, which suits me just fine. In fact, as long as i have my tattoos covered and my sunglasses on, I don’t even stand out as a tourist, which keeps the market merchants at bay.

I am happy to report that, after Zurich, Tunis seems like a budget paradise. Last night I had a freshly baked mini pizza for $1.50, coffee for 50c, and bought bread, cheese, an orange, and a yogurt drink from the super market for $3.00. (Those who know me know i love wandering foreign supermarkets due to a weird box of cereal I once saw in Tel Aviv. Here, I note that almost all of the boxed breakfast cereals are chocolate and there was an ENTIRE aisle at the market I visited devoted to halva.)

After a bit of a rest, I went for a late night walk in the medina (careful not to get lost this time) and smoked a cigar on the steps of a mosque, watching cats walk the alleys looking for food. Other than that it was quiet.

I think this cheesy photo says it all.

Tag: hookah

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