Going where the cobbled streets lead me.

This is a re-post from my Facebook photo albums.

My trip in Tunis was also a trip to my childhood memories. Never had a foreign land awaken so much of the past in me. As a child, the books that told about the enchanted faraway land of genies and magic carpets and treasures buried deep were the first culprit that got me infected with this unquenchable travel bug. My thoughts wandered far and most of my nights were spent dreaming of adventures in the desert.

When I laid my eyes in Tunis, Aladdin, Sinbad and my Arabian Nights Adventure had suddenly turned into reality with every white-washed walls that I leaned on, every cobbled streets that came in contact with the soles of my tired but more than willing feet, and every brass lamps that I inspected. It was great that everything I saw in Sidi Bou Said were old and simple. It gave so much more personality to the place that all I wanted during my visit was to check every nooks and crannies with unrivaled interest and celebrate at every discovery just like the unassuming 500-year old house that was nothing more than a small-scale souvenir shop from the street view.

At the end of the winding road of cobblestones and blue doors, white-washed restaurants and cafes perched upon the hill, overlooking the calm waters of Cote d’Azur. White boats rocked quietly along the shores below and the aquamarine blue waters glistened all day as far as the eye could see.

Its people were more precious gems. They were very approachable, honest (I left my envelope of money in a store and the storekeeper ran to return it to me), and the peddlars were not aggressive when selling their wares. There is just something about laid-back cultures that allow people to be nice with unguarded hospitality, I believe.

Notably, the men were not shy at all to show their appreciation of a woman’s appearance. Must be the french language thing. And I spoke to one man who thought that Gloria Macapagal was a stunner. πŸ™‚

On my way back to the hotel, the taxi driver told me that Tunis is not even the old part of the country! 30 minutes away by train from the city is a very antique treasure–Carthage, a major urban area that has existed for nearly 3, 000 years ago. But that remained to be explored in my trips to come. πŸ™‚

I forgot her name except that she was from Burma with a Christian Lacroix wedding dress and she turned a year older that day.

The famous blue doors of Tunis.

This is a photo I grabbed somewhere in the web.

Cheese sticks for appetizer.

The Tunisian flag.

I went back to Cafe Delices and found a group of men who professed their crush on our ex-President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo.

Another photo that I grabbed from the world wide web.

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