Tunisia

I was in Tunis in 2019 for a business trip, mainly around investment meetings, but there was no way I was going to spend the whole visit moving between meeting rooms, coffee, and emails. So I made room to get out and see a bit of the place properly.

It was only a few days and only one part of Tunisia, but it was enough to make me want more. Tunis gave me enough coastline, old streets, history, and good food to keep the whole thing from feeling like just another work trip with a nice backdrop.

Tunisia, starting with Tunis

This was not a full Tunisia circuit. It was Tunis and the places around it. Two weeks and half the country to see places like Tataouine, Matmata, Tozeur, Douz, Djerba, Dougga, and perhaps capture a selfie at the Northernmost Point of Africa, would obviously have been better. Greater Tunis was already a good start, to be followed up on my next visit there.

Outside the meetings, calls, numbers, investor talks, and company visits, I also got to sample some sea breeze, old walls, tiled courtyards, prayer calls, traffic, and streets that had been handling human chaos and pedestrian congestion for centuries.

A good start in La Marsa

I wanted to give myself some extra time, so I flew in early and landed on a Sunday morning. A day without meetings meant one full day to explore before the schedule kicked in. Much better than landing and going straight into work mode.

The Residence is an absolutely beautiful hotel, and La Marsa turned out to be a great base for my little exploration mission. With Carthage and Sidi Bou Said nearby, I was right where I needed to be. The Medina was a bit further away, but still close enough to make the trip easy. And yes, having the Mediterranean nearby did not exactly hurt. Pretty much any setting improves with a bit of fresh sea breeze and the sound of waves.

Sidi Bou Said: White walls, blue doors, and a very good brik

Sidi Bou Said is considered one of the top must-visits in Tunis. It was also high on the list of recommendations I had gotten. Clearly for good reason.

A suburb on a hill, with white walls, blue doors, blue shutters, blue railings, and the Mediterranean spread out below. It’s postcard-pretty, almost to the point where it should feel overdone, but it doesn’t. There’s enough real life, movement, and atmosphere in the streets to keep it from becoming just another polished photo stop.

My thoughts almost immediately wandered to Frigiliana in Spain. Then again, it’s the Mediterranean, so the similarity shouldn’t come as a massive shock.

Sidi Bou Said is the kind of place where walking around is enough. Narrow, winding streets. Whitewashed walls. Blue doors. Low-rise buildings. Impressive views of the Mediterranean. No serious plan or checklist needed. No tourist guide. Just walk, look around, enjoy the place, and buy something messy from a street vendor once your appetite kicks in.

Because obviously, you cannot visit Tunis, or anywhere else for that sake, without trying the street food. In Sidi Bou Said, that meant a proper brik. Tuna, vegetables, capers, olives, and a runny egg, all folded into pastry and fried until crisp. It starts well. Then it collapses into delicious chaos.

Very difficult to eat neatly, but that is probably part of the deal. Just thinking about it makes me want to go back.

There’s hardly a part of Sidi Bou Said that isn’t ridiculously photogenic, so this is a place where it’s easy to earn some bragging rights as a photographer.

Carthage, Before Rome Got the Last Word

Carthage was high on my list long before I got to Tunis. Some of that goes back to school and those Latin classes that made the Punic Wars hard to forget. Then suddenly there I was, looking at what remained of the city that pushed Rome harder than almost anyone else managed.

This was Hannibal’s world. The man who marched through the Iberian Peninsula, dragged elephants across the Alps, and pushed Rome to the brink of defeat in 211 BCE. One of history’s great military moves. Then, at the gates of Rome, when he could have walked straight into the city and given history a totally different direction, he failed to finish the job. Which only makes the whole story weirder, and more memorable too.

Rome, unsurprisingly, did not just move on. Cato the Elder kept returning to the same conclusion: delenda est Carthago. Carthage must be destroyed.

In 146 BCE, at the end of the Third Punic War, Rome finally got what it wanted. After three wars, fought between 264 BCE and 146 BCE, the one power that had challenged Rome more seriously than anyone else was broken. Carthage fell. Its capital was destroyed. And eventually, delenda erat Carthago. Carthage had, in the Roman mind, always been destined for destruction.

Carthage was once a vast city. Now it lies scattered across a wide stretch near La Marsa and Sidi Bou Said, broken into fragmented archaeological sites. Even so, the impression is still mighty. The ruins, scattered across a wide area mostly overlooking the sea, stand as a powerful and impressive reminder the mighty regional superpower that ruled this side of the Mediterranean more than 2,000 years ago, and came within one strategic blunder of conquering Rome.

Two nights inside the Medina

Then the trip changed completely when I moved into the Medina for two nights.

One of the people I was meeting in Tunis had a deep interest in the city’s cultural heritage, and he was putting serious personal energy and money into preserving it. He had bought and restored two classic buildings inside the Medina, turning one into Dar El Jeld, a five-star boutique hotel, and the other into Fondouk El Attarine, a traditional restaurant.

I was no longer just visiting the old city for a few hours, ticking off streets and monuments before heading back out. I was staying inside it, meeting people who were actively investing in its future, and seeing the Medina less as a historic backdrop and more as part of everyday Tunis.

That meant two nights inside the Medina, much closer to the traditions, heritage, and daily routines of the city than I had expected. Passing through a medina for an hour or two is one thing. Waking up inside it is another altogether.

Dar El Jeld was a charm. Restored and designed for luxury, while following tradition right down to the details. Built around an inner courtyard, with spacious, tastefully designed rooms. The exquisite hammam in the basement, done in full traditional style, did not hurt either.

Fondouk El Attarine carried that same spirit from the food side. Tastefully crafted traditional Tunisian dishes, served in an open courtyard setting with real atmosphere. The kind of place that gives you a strong sense of the soul of a city. Tunisian delicacies at their best, subtly presented, generous in quantity, and the sort of lunch you remember years later.

The Medina itself was at its best after dark. One stretch still busy, the next already quiet. Light from a shop or doorway cutting into darker alleys. Footsteps carrying. A turn into something rougher, then another into a courtyard with real elegance and old detail still intact. It kept shifting, but never felt messy. For sure, there were moments when I knew exactly where I was going, and others when my confidence was stronger than my sense of direction. Also part of the charm.

The Medina is still very much alive. Worn in places, beautiful in others, and often both at once. Old city quarters from before the car era tend to say much more about where a place came from. The medinas that still survive intact do exactly that. So, in their own way, do old Swahili towns like Lamu, Stone Town, and Old Town Mombasa.

These places carry traditions that have been living on for centuries, even if not in exactly the same shape. It is easy to imagine the Medina in Tunis with the same sounds and scents, the same congestion, and much the same pace a thousand years ago. The merchandise may have changed. The vibe probably hasn’t

Dar El Jeld showed what those old buildings can become when they are restored properly, without sanding all the character off them. Fondouk El Attarine did much the same from the food side. Traditional Tunisian food, old walls, strong setting, real atmosphere, and none of the feeling that the place had been softened up for visitors.

Still so much more to explore

Tunis was a basketful of experiences.

La Marsa with sea breeze, waves, and quiet beach vibes. Sidi Bou Said with postcard-pretty streets and whitewashed charm, reminiscent of the pueblos blancos of Spain. And of course, that excellent brik that was never meant to stay together in one piece.

Then Carthage, with the heavy history of an empire that almost came to control the whole Mediterranean. And finally the Medina, with the atmosphere, the hustle and bustle, the narrow streets, and a vibrant old-city buzz that probably hasn’t changed all that much for centuries.

Work and wandering kept overlapping a bit. Meetings by day. Old streets by evening. Decks and numbers one hour. Ruins, prayer calls, and fried pastry the next. I have worked under worse conditions.

Business trip, yes, but also a proper first look at Tunis. I’ve obviously only started scratching the surface of the city and the country, but that’s a story for another trip.