Travel can offer up the unique and exciting opportunity of first impressions—experiencing the thrill of the new and beautiful, as well as an almost honeymoon-like state of mind. Every building, view, and church can feel like a new hit of traveller’s dopamine. The world is beautiful, but not always. In fact, the exact opposite can sometimes be true. This might be a personal fault, but just as quickly as love can develop, so can hate. It's important to speak your truth, and my truth is that my first impressions of Tunis were bad. Tunis is by far the worst city I have ever visited, which is a clear sign that I need to get out more.
The only real tourist attraction in the city is the Medina, and with Tunisia falling out of favour as a popular destination, it didn’t feel particularly touristy. The shopkeepers seemed to just mill around with the sole purpose of bothering me. Not being one who favors being bothered, the atmosphere, history, and experience were slightly tainted. Undoubtedly, the rooftop views were the highlight, offering some respite from the chaos below.
I happily left Tunis to move on to more colorful pastures. Sidi Bou Said, famed for its white and blue buildings overlooking the Gulf of Tunis, is not too dissimilar to a Muslim version of Santorini. I welcomed the change of pace and aesthetics and embraced the last chance of the year to swim in the sea. Splashing around in the same waters as the Carthaginians, I found the water tolerable and clear, despite it being November. Enjoying the views of the mountains, I thought little about my bag left on the sand being stolen, which would be as annoying to me as it was disappointing to the thief—considering that the most valuable item in the pure leather bag was my pants.
The true reason to visit the north of Tunisia must be to see the ruins of Carthage. My first stop was the Carthage Museum, which was closed. However, all the other sites were open, and I had little interest in seeing the museum since the main attractions are the ancient ruins. I bought my ticket, made a deal with a taxi driver to be my escort, and enjoyed a morning of sunshine and deserted historical sites—a pretty blissful situation to find yourself in when the alternative would be England in November.
To finish off the tour, the taxi driver wanted to show me one last thing—something that wasn't on the official guide: an ancient aqueduct. As I opened the taxi door, he advised me not to talk to anyone. Was I really that boring? Fortunately, nobody else was there. I looked at the aqueduct, then back to the taxi to return to Sidi Bou Said.
I was advised by my taxi escort to visit the little town of [name], which was within walking distance from my lodging in Sidi Bou Said. The first stretch of this walk took me through what was clearly a very wealthy area. It was interesting to see such luxury and opulence. We are all united by two universal facts of life: we all die, and some people are just richer than others.
Getting bored of looking at houses, I veered off the main route to the beach to walk the rest of the distance to [name] along the shore. Young men sat on the crumbled concrete walls, like the wind forms sand into dunes, the tide of the sea pushed plastic rubbish against the concrete barriers. To avoid giving a bad impression of Tunisian beaches, the beaches of Sidi Bou Said were well-kept, boasting golden sand and beautiful views. However, this stretch of beach felt bleak, not helped by the glorious sunshine being obscured by ever-greying clouds, finally achieving the dull, monotone hue of the bare concrete structures around the beach.
Reaching the main beachfront, I saw a man selling popcorn. I gave him money in exchange for a clear plastic bag of popcorn and a photo. Surprisingly, it wouldn’t be a lie to say this was the first-ever photo I took while holding popcorn. Happy with my exchange, I sat on a bench and looked over the beach toward the sea, already missing the security of Sidi Bou Said. One favorite spot of mine in this little gem of Tunisia was a café and shisha bar, which I visited multiple times each day. Possibly looking like the most pretentious man alive, I enjoyed the blissful combination of warm mint tea, interspersed by puffing on the shisha pipe with a book in hand.
I visited this café so often that the proprietor, who at first seemed unapproachable, became interested in me. We enjoyed each other’s company and exchanged some pleasantries for a short while.
