I was mistaken - here they are before me, whole thickets of fleshy, lush, intricately intertwined bushes, from which juicy, appetizing... fruits hang in clusters. They grow along the road, surround private houses, and form amusing flower beds near hotels. This is Africa, this is Tunisia. "Yes, yes, these fruits are quite edible, moreover, they are very tasty and form an integral part of every Tunisian's diet," Fgayer Nezih, our guide, whose task is to introduce us to this beautiful and amazing country, persistently convinces me. And with a smile, he hands me a cone-shaped fruit.
Well, that's it, we've arrived. So that for my hard-earned money during a well-deserved vacation, I'd be fed cacti... The edible "cone" delicately but persistently approaches my nose. And, recalling the tense international situation, I close my eyes and take a bite out of half of it at once. Hmm, strange - the taste is quite pleasant, sweet and sour, reminiscent of our gooseberry, even the seeds are similar, only larger. Fgayer Nezih looks at me expectantly. I smile, he beams - the acquaintance with Tunisia has begun.
There, on lush palm branches, amid thickets of blooming prickly pear...
Of course, I didn't go to Tunisia for cacti. I was looking forward to meeting the sea. Tunisia is attractive for three features: first, the sea and beaches; second, ancient monuments led by the famous Carthage; and finally, the Sahara.
Let's start with the sea. It is of an amazing color - green-emerald, like the banner of Allah, and all penetrated by golden sunbeams reflected from the snow-white sand of the coast. The sea is shallow, warm, and very salty. You immerse yourself in it and rock on the waves like a weightless float. Worries recede, and along with a light wave, a half-forgotten memory of childhood happiness washes over you. Perhaps here, in Hammamet, I first saw how all vacationers clearly prefer the sea to the pool. The sea splashes quietly under a gentle breeze, and the deafening forty-degree heat recedes somewhere. "This is not Africa, this is North Africa!" Tunisians like to emphasize.
Tunisia can boast of more than 4,000 km of natural fine-sand beaches. Among the fashionable and Europeanized resorts, Sousse and Monastir stand out. Western tourists have given them a reputation as youth resorts - here the greatest number of discos, bars, and restaurants are concentrated. Life doesn't fall silent for a second all night: everything glitters, shimmers, music plays, and crowds of tourists scurry through narrow streets. Mahdia is the quietest, coziest city, with the cleanest and longest beaches, and tourists are encountered no more often than raisins in a bun. And finally, Hammamet - the "city of white doves" - an ancient fortified city where locals love to come for the weekend. It is lazy, sparsely populated, and lives the same simple life as it did under the Roman legionaries.
Hotels in Tunisia are different. Excluding the most luxurious ones, the number of stars won't change the essence of your vacation. The most important thing is the presence of an air conditioner with individual control settings. Next is water, the reliability of its supply. As a rule, all amenities are present, but, as they say, options are possible. For example, large black ants have chosen a route right through your room. Relax - only the complete extermination of the ants will help, and until then they will walk along their own azimuth, no matter what you or the hotel staff do. But if a shower or toilet flush breaks, it will be fixed instantly. There may be no soap in the room, but there will be three rolls of toilet paper. And so on. If this outrages you to the depths of your civilized soul, then... buy a ticket to Turkish Marmaris or Egyptian Sharm el-Sheikh.
But what will amaze you is the hotel lobby you'll walk into. In any hotel, they impress with carving, mosaic, and painting. Without exception, all our tourists take photos against the backdrop of these illustrations to Scheherazade's tales. In the south of Tunisia, there are absolutely exotic types of tourist accommodation: former inns, residential caves, and fortress-storehouses, and in the camp near Ksar Ghilane, you might be lucky enough to spend the night in the black woolen tents of nomads.
So if you've come just to relax, you can stay within the hotel, rock on the waves, savor local delicacies, and not think about anything. A week of peaceful rest with breakfast and dinner will cost you about $400 plus lunch at the hotel - another $10-15 per day.
Legends of deep antiquity
But still, it's worth leaving the gentle beach: Tunisia is an amazing country where the most diverse cultures and customs are intricately intertwined. Who lives in Tunisia? The answer is one - Tunisians. Over the centuries-long history of this land, many bloods have mixed in the veins of its inhabitants: Berber, Phoenician, Greek, Roman, Jewish, Arab. Great Rome created agriculture, Baghdad converted the country to Islam with "fire and sword", Istanbul gave a unique brilliance to Tunisian architecture thanks to the skill of its architects, Paris brought European gloss and a system of higher education. In short, each people left its memory for centuries. Over two and a half thousand years, the borders of Tunisia have practically not changed.
There is much to see in Tunisia. First, of course, the ruins of Carthage, the Bardo Mosaic Museum, the Antonine Baths, and the island of Djerba. But the most interesting thing is, of course, the Sahara. A two-day excursion will cost you about $100-120, a sea of sweat, and a couple of lost kilograms of weight. The "Golden Ring" of Tunisia includes the most famous cities: Sousse, El Jem, Matmata, Douz, Kebili-Tozeur, Tamarza. What you will see is impossible to describe. You are awaited by the majestic Colosseum in El Jem, camel rides through the desert, a visit to the inhabitants of a cave city, swimming in a waterfall amid the greenery of an oasis, the "lunar landscape" of salt flats, and a jeep descent along "Rommel's Road".
But even if the heat and the desert scare you away from this route, the ancient cities of Tunisia hold many legends.
...Morning, about five o'clock. Outside the window is a gray-pink haze of sunrise. Small wild doves coo timidly; in the gap of the carved shutters I see a large orange glowing right in front of my window. Today we are going to the medina.
Every Arab city has a medina - the old part of the city surrounded by a fortress wall. People still live there; in the market rows - souks - they sell everyday utensils and quaint souvenirs, children play in small courtyards. The white sandstone houses impress with their ascetic beauty. Its secret lies in the proportions of housing verified over many centuries. All that can be decorated is the door and the windows. And here the residents try their best! The doorway is finished with marble and wrought-iron grilles, painted with patterns and highlighted with mosaic. The window shutters - all of them a soft blue color - are decorated with fancy birdcages. They may not have feathered inhabitants - the openwork itself serves as sufficient decoration.
The center of the Tunisian personal microcosm is the family. Everything in a Tunisian's life is subordinated to its interests. And therefore they do not have that unbridled striving for a career, for public life, like their European colleagues. In summer, for example, all of Tunisia works according to the law of seance unique - from six in the morning to one in the afternoon. You won't even see policemen. Perhaps that is why a Tunisian manager does not collapse dead in front of the TV after coming home late from work. And this despite the fact that many manage to work two jobs. The concept of 'self-realization' does not exist in the minds of Tunisians. The very fact of its existence is justified - he will raise children, build a house, live to see grandchildren - what more could a person want? Perhaps that is why they have no spirit of acquisitiveness, envy does not bloom in lush color under the shady tents of blooming hibiscus.
The unreality of existence is visible at every step. Here you pass by a luxuriously decorated entrance door with intricate marble carving. It is open, and the fragile peace of the family's inner world is fenced off from prying eyes only by a thin curtain swaying in the wind. There, behind it, one hears quiet women's laughter, guttural cries of playing children, men's voices... One step to this world. You can pull back the curtain and see them. See, but not understand.
When you get tired of wandering through the market rows, you can drop into an unremarkable cafe - have a cup of sweet mint tea, smoke a hookah. Only men smoke hookahs. No, of course, a tourist is a beast protected by law, and if a lady is impatient, she can also order a hookah. But it is still better if your companion does it.
I take in my hands a heavy pipe worn to whiteness and honestly try to take a drag. Opposite me sits a young Tunisian couple: a guy in light European trousers and a shirt is smoking a hookah, achieving a resounding gurgle of water in the vessel. His petite companion is dressed in a light pantsuit and a traditional headscarf - a hijab. She just sits next to him and looks at me. The smoke reminds me of the sweet-tart aroma of grandmother's apples and pears dried in the stove. My head is slightly spinning, but breathing is easy and sweet... I wonder what the mysterious woman of the East thinks of me?
Between East and West
Tunisians are beautiful in an Eastern way and brought up in a European way. Eastern laziness combined with the French imperturbable 'couldn't-care-less' attitude drives tourists into a rage. A minute of waiting stretches to half an hour, and your complaints break against the friendly bewilderment of always amiable hotel workers. The hours of life are measured out by Allah - why hurry?
Next to us on the beach, a typical Arab family has settled on sun loungers: a handsome forty-year-old man, his young wife with lovely toddlers born a year apart, an elderly mother, two young girls - either sisters or nieces of the head of the family. When bathing, they enter the water in full attire - long, floor-length loose dresses and headscarves that hide their faces from the eyebrows to the edge of the chin. 'This is a family from Libya,' our guide explains. 'There are also beautiful beaches there, but swimming is allowed only when there is no less than 25 meters to the nearest group of people. You know, it's easier for them to come to us.'
He sits on the next sun lounger in full office attire: suit, white shirt, tie. I am opposite him, in a swimsuit. A little further away, our compatriot is carefully applying cream. Next to her, her friend is sunbathing like a frog on a laboratory table: legs spread wide and the edges of her swimsuit bottoms shifted to the limits of the possible. Both are topless. The reaction of the young Tunisians - beach lifeguards - is frank and unconcealed, though not impudent. 'Hey, Tanya,' one says loudly to the other, 'I'm sick of these bastards! What are they staring at!'
'Are these your compatriots?' - the smile of Fgaier Nezih is enigmatic and inexpressible. I frantically search for words to answer. A trifle, but unpleasant...
As is the couscous, so is Tunisia to the taste.
The traditional dish in Tunisia is, of course, couscous. Traditionally, couscous consists of well-steamed wheat grains, poured over with a meat sauce with pieces of meat and spices. This has nothing in common with our barley porridge. Every self-respecting family has a special couscoussier - a two-tier contraption that allows this dish to be prepared.
More familiar to our tourist will seem briks - hot crispy pies-chebureks with various fillings. Their only exotic feature is the mandatory presence inside of a completely raw egg. They eat them... well, actually, as anyone can, but mostly with their hands.
Fish is fried or baked whole over coals. The menu will definitely emphasize that it is today fish. And, of course, harissa - a very, very spicy adjika.
There is only one beer in Tunisia - Celtia, from 1.7 to 2 dinars per bottle. By the way, their bottles are small, 300 ml. Imported beer is also found, of course, but very rarely and very expensive. As for the national sweet carbonated drink 'Boga', we were told a funny story. Its producers are descendants of those Russians who landed in Bizerte many decades ago and stayed in Tunisia forever. In memory of their native language, they named their drink Boga - 'water'.
National food is best tasted in the most remote eateries. Everything served in hotels and nearby restaurants differs from real food the way homemade hearty borscht differs from standard 'Ukrainian borscht' somewhere in a capital restaurant.
There, on the outskirts of the city, among locals who look with interest at your absurd attire (Tunisian men do not wear shorts, and Tunisian women do not wear beach flip-flops), do not expect special cleanliness and service. There you will be given the same amount of attention as a truck driver who ran in for a quick bite, whose 'iron horse' loaded with tomatoes stands at the cafe door. They may mutter something, they may even overcharge you if the occasion arises. But it is there, on a torn oilcloth, in a not-too-sterile dish, that you will scoop your first spoonful of an aromatic, juicy, rich, unknown dish whose guttural name you will neither remember nor repeat.
Souvenir Ruination
Tunisia is famous for olives and dates. Endless olive groves accompany you everywhere you go in Tunisia. It is said that the country has about 6 million olive trees. The beauty of olive cultivation is in their extreme, almost indecent undemandingness. Judge for yourself: once you plant a tree, you neither need to water it, prune it, nor hill it up. True, you will have to wait about fifteen years for the first harvest. But then it is enough to loosen the soil around the trunk once a year and, after harvesting, break off old branches. And an olive tree lives up to 1,500 years. Some of them still remember Roman legionaries...
For dates, you need to go in winter - the harvest takes place from November to March. And you should only buy them by weight - incredibly dirty, sticky, fleshy and sweet. In summer, in neat colorful boxes, you risk seeing only dried last year's fruits. And the famous 'fingers of light' generally go only for export. 'I tried them once,' Fgaier Nezih recalls dreamily. 'They sent me a box from France.'
Also from Tunisia they bring carpets, toy camels, birdcages and sand roses. Carpets are of high quality, relatively cheap ($100-800) and command respect for the hard labor of their making and the solid guarantee of the manufacturer. They are woven only by hand and only by women (yeah, who else!). And the guaranteed service life of a Berber carpet is 100 years.
Plush camels are cheap and touching. Even capricious children and no less spoiled secretaries accept them willingly. But the roses... Oh, these mysterious daughters of the desert! They are sold in whole bunches, they are incredibly cheap, and it seems, why bring home a piece of whimsically weathered petrified sand? But at home, when the sky outside is covered with the gray haze of autumn rain, the creamy-sand, mica-glinting rose of the Sahara will remind you of the magical tales of lazy Tunisia.
One Tunisian dinar is approximately equal to one dollar - our tourists learn this firmly back home. True, when on the spot it turns out that the maid's tip is 1 dinar a day, or that it is also awkward to give a little beggar less than a dinar for a bunch of jasmine, it becomes somehow uncomfortable. By the way, you can bargain at the markets, but with sense and tact: this is not Turkey. Here, if you persistently disparage the goods, the seller may take offense and not sell it to you at all - not for any money!
Have you forgotten about the edible cacti? Oh, enterprising Tunisian traders love to treat tourists to this exotic delicacy on the beach. Fgaier Nezih solemnly tells us that, for example, yesterday a tourist from Saratov bought one very ripe and high-quality fruit for 30 dinars. True, nearby, in a city vegetable shop, equally good fruits were sold much cheaper - only three dinars per... bucket. And unexpectedly Fgaier Nezih winks at me dashingly. Tunisians are generally a cheerful people.