Soooo, still committed to the alliterative titles, even if this one doesn’t really count. I mean, visually they both start with G, but the pronunciation kills the effect. Aw well.
We had our Jeep ride out of the Sahara, and were then reunited with Ashraf and our van. And started the long drive to the city of Tozeur. Winds, which were already intense that morning, have REALLY picked up. Our van got stuck again in the super soft sand dunes that had blown onto that same patch of highway. Happily this time all of our wheels stayed on the pavement, which made digging ourselves out and pushing easier and we were able to get un-stuck without needing the assistance of a giant busload of European dudes. Unhappily, there was an injury. I mentioned the INTENSE winds, right? They were so strong that the mini-van’s automatic sliding door was having trouble opening and closing. With both wind resistance and sand getting into the sensors, it would only move partway and then automatically close again. A few of our group made it out the door before it closed again, and then a few of us scrambled into the front seat and out the front passenger door, which just opened like a normal door…although against HUGE wind pressure. After the van was pushed free, we went to climb back inside, but the door would open slide open about 12” before closing again. Courtney went to climb into the passenger seat and into the back to assist from inside. But before she could get there, we suddenly hear Yassine insisting that the door be opened again right away! Once that happens, he just stoically walks away from the van and us, clutching his hand, and bent over for a bit. Silent but obviously injured. Stoic AF. Oh no!! Honestly, dude is super stoic. There wasn’t even screaming when his finger got caught in the closed automatic door, just firm insistence. OUCHY! And so now it’s no longer a fun adventure story, but a “Damn, somebody got hurt” story. The good news is that it turned out not to be as bad as it could have been, I guess. No broken bones. Just severely pinched and bruised. Poor guy. So that sucked. We got to see that patch of finger turn interesting colors over the next few days. 🙁
We’re starting to lose more visibility in the increased sand storm, but do get to enjoy a guy driving his two camels in the back of his pickup truck. The animals seemed very chill. Cracked me up. I don’t think this blurry photo captures it, but we followed these camels for quite awhile, and I so enjoyed just watching his head bob up and down, looking around while lying down in the truck bed.
Then we’re approaching a large salt lake area, so now it’s a WHITE OUT of a salt/sand storm. All vehicles turn on their blinking hazard lights and are driving super slowly, as visibility is nill.
So that nixes one of our salt lake stops, but that’s okay. We did later stop at this random roadside structure with a boat and a few wooden sculptures and some flags.
The winds are still Soooooo intense. It’s kind of a struggle to stay standing. But we gamely wander around for a few minutes before we all decide we can keep going. Ha. It’s a long day of driving, and we’re all tired and sandy. Everyone’s mostly listening to their own tunes. Arthur, knowing I’d had issues with my audiobook earlier (Reaper at the Gates by Tahir. Very fun to be reading this story inspired by Ancient Rome and Egypt in these landscapes!! But I’d failed to download it in the library app and so couldn’t listen for a few days). He asks me what I’m listening to now. I mention I had a different audiobook already downloaded so I’ve just started it. It’s apparently a Classic, but not one I’d heard of before. I tell him the title and author. “Oh man. Why are you reading that?!? That’s so depressing. He kills her and throws her body in the lake.” I’m sure I had a blank stare and just blinked a few times. Then, “well, okay then. Guess I’ll look for foreshadowing while I read it.” OMG! I’m laughing but also flummoxed. It’ll be fine…I’ve known the plot before reading most Classic Lit. But in this instance, I’d not even heard of the book before, so it would’ve been brand new to me. Ha! (I’m deliberately not listing the book, to avoid spoilers for others, but feel free to ask me if you’re curious).
Late lunch at Restaurant Soleil in Tozeur, entertainingly decorated with a fake palm tree pillar and fake sky.
Food and service are great. Most of us ordered a dish that Yassine kept saying was like Tunisian pasta. It involved a thin bread cut into pieces (so I guess in the neighborhood of noodles), with a lovely sauce and peppers and nuts and lamb and also some dried fruit.
It’s also always lovely to grab a meal that isn’t at the hotel. There’s a very inquisitive street cat, who is clearly a regular and a menace of fluff. When it sneaks inside, it spends several minutes rubbing against our ankles and getting pets from Sarah and Courtney. We watch the staff gently shoo it back outside, but it continues to pace outside the doors, waiting for its chance to slip back inside again. (We’ll have lunch here the next day as well, and this same cat manages to get inside 3 more times during that meal. Ha)
Then off to our hotel for a MUCH ANTICIPATED shower (remember that we’re all still coated in all the windstorm Saharan sand). It’s glorious. Relaxing at hotel. Decent enough hotel buffet for dinner. This hotel is Packed with tour groups, so we have an assigned table we have to use.
Next morning, we head out to find a Jeep waiting for us, with a new driver. What?!? Turns out no Ashraf today. We’re taking a Jeep to go exploring. There’s a hilarious moment of misunderstanding about 10 minutes into our drive, Yassine starts unfolding a large paper map, while talking speedily with our driver. There’s some fumbling with the paper, and it really seems to all of us that we’re lost or he needs to show our new driver our destination. Real Magellan shit over here! But nope, he brought the map as a very kind visual guide for us, to show us where we’d be headed for the day (as so many of our stops will be off roads).
Along the way, we get some impressive views of the Atlas Mountains, and then we’re off to Chebika, a mountainous oasis in the desert. It’s Stupidly hot again, and, ya know, the desert, near the Algerian border. And then you can see the oasis as this striking patch of green amidst some mountains. As you’d expect for a watersource in the desert, there are millenia of human history here, from ancient Rome to the Amazigh people, and there’s a current town nearby. We’re told it’s going to be a bit more intense hiking than our original itinerary. (Unfortunately for your girl, who already hates walking downhill on loose scree and gravel. I’d brought a collapsible hiking pole for this trip, to help with that and my balance issues. However, I’d taken to leaving the pole in the van. Not knowing we’d be with a new driver in a jeep all day instead. Eek!). We grab our water bottles, I sunscreen up with my big hat, and off to meet our Chebika guide (whose name I forgot to record. Darn it).
He had an infectious smile and a kind heart. As we’re climbing up the mountain trails, he says to me, “I will be your Papa” as he pats his chest and offers me his hand for balance as I clamber over a boulder. Very much appreciated.
Then we come to the first part where we’re squeezing through a mountain crevice. Unexpected!! Michael kindly offers to carry my small day pack.The footing is kind of treacherous…although with walls on both sides, not gonna be able to fall too badly. Ha!
Then more climbing up up up. Which I hate, because I know we’re going to have to go down down down on some similar loose gravel paths.
There are souvenir vendors set up occasionally along the different trails. Unexpected, but definitely a more unique and scenic way to buy gifts for folk back home.
One folding table has a “Tattoo” sign up, which has us all giggling and a bit skeptical that this is maybe the most hygienic outdoor desert location for getting some ink. But as we get closer, I think it’s a translation difference, because he had small metal bracelets and was offering custom engraving. Climbing up the mountain in the heat is obviously not super pleasant. But for me, it’s always more about the phobia of the loose downhill slide. Our guide is wonderfully sweet and patient (and very stable), offering me a hand for the slipping and sliding scree bits. Eventually we get to a section with some carved stone steps and that is much better.
And at the bottom, greeted with a truly lovely site.
This mountain oasis pond, with FROGS and dragonflies.
It’s stunning. You can see where the water is coming out of the mountain.
And then it’s walking along a small stream, clambering along and over a few more smaller boulders,
and we find an actual waterfall into another pond. Magical.
After a post hike cup of tea, it’s back to our Jeep. I also didn’t write down our drivers name, which is a shame, because he was very Fine! I was super stoked that it was my turn to ride in the front seat for this next portion of the trip. Ha! (Because the jeeps have fewer seats than our van, we’d been trading around who sat where. Although the group kindly never made me clamber over into the very back seat for any of our jeep rides, which I appreciated). That extreme competency thing is always attractive (as he confidently takes us off-roading, with the Arabic version of those “I can kill a bear and build you a log cabin” vibes). The fact that he was also super fit, with defined cheekbones, a prominent nose, and sparkling eyes, I felt like the Universe was reading my dream journal. Ha! Also appreciated that he was playing music (Ashraf normally had our van stereo off). And his musical tastes were mostly euro dance songs (be still my beating heart! As an avid C89.5 radio listener all my life, I knew a lot of the tunes and could sing/bop along). We shared some knowing glances and head bobs to the beat. He’s driving us out into the desert. We turn off from the highway and are just making our own path, to some good tunes. And I’ve got that great view (ha, I meant out the windshield from the front seat, but the view to my left wasn’t bad either. *laughs* ) There are lots of bumps and dips, as this is off-roading. Those in the backseat couldn’t see when these were coming, and would often squeal or squeak at the unexpected bounce. And our driver would give me a sideways glance with a twinkle in his eye and small smile. Ha! He’s also playing some Arabic pop songs, too. Michael hollers “Tracy, can you Shazam this song?” “I already got it. And the two before.” After a few more requests, I just take on the role of recording all the new-to-us songs so we can make a group playlist later. Fun.
And now we’ve finally come to the LARGE SAND DUNES, as promised. As we’re driving up up up, the driver switches the tunes over to an Adele song. Strange choice. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like Adele. But the vibes were not quite sand-duning tunes. Ah well. The view from the front seat is intense, as I’m the first to see nothing but empty horizon, as the ground disappears, we crest the top and start the plunge down the hill. *cue the excited squealing from the Jeep. (In honesty, the driver and Yassine were not squealing. And I don’t think Arthur made noise either. Unsure about Michael. His main concern had been motion sickness, as a previous trip to Namibia riding the dunes had proved pretty nauseating for him. Happily for him, this was a much shorter session of riding the dunes, so nobody got sick). It’s fun. And then we stop at the top of one dune, and can look out over one of the Star Wars Mos Espa sets. Again, from Phantom Menace. These Dunes are where the Darth Maul light saber duel was filmed,
As well as several of the Mos Espa exterior shots.
There are some vendors at folding tables set up around the site. And a man walking a camel on a harness, offering photos and rides.
Glad to see at least some locals able to capitalize on Star Wars tourism. The infrastructure for such a tourism thing is really lacking.
It’s very fun to just get to wander freely around these buildings. No admission fee. No rules. No guard ropes or off limit areas. The sun is punishing. There’s an adorable dog grabbing some shade.
Courtney is extra hilarious in our selfie. A good time is had.
After that, we pile back into the Jeep for our next stop. More off roading until we rejoin the road.
Then we suddenly take a random unmarked turn, once again heading into the desert. Some truly impressive mirages shining in the distance in this brutal mid-day sun. And then we’re at the Lars Homestead, from the original Star Wars film.
(There’s a sign explaining a 2011 online campaign that raised $10,000 to restore this site, which had been pretty deteriorated after 40+ years in the desert).
We’re the only people here. There’s a small bird inside the building (possibly injured, possibly just thirsty). Yassine sets up a small bowl of water for it. Off to the side is one folding table with some souvenirs (different stones and crystals from the area, not specifically Star Wars themed items). But the vendor isn’t there: possibly his lunch break? I feel slightly badly that he’s gone, as I’m not sure how many people come this way, and I’m sorry he missed a chance at a sale. Michael then calls me over, has me stand in a specific spot, and instructs me to take the most inappropriate but entertaining photo, as he goes to recreate the film scene: he lies down where the dead smoking body is, in front of the house. Yassine is a bit perplexed why Michael is lying face down on the ground. And why we can’t stop chuckling about it. (Later, when I have internet, I bring up photos from Star Wars to show him the scene Michael was mimicking).
And then it’s a drive along the desert highway back to Tozeur. We have one hour to relax in our hotel rooms, before our exploration of the Medina and then dinner at a different Oasis, which has a restaurant. Courtney and Sarah decide they’re tired and want to skip the evening activities. So it’s me and the boys for the night. The Medina is super cool.
A Unesco heritage site, Yassine explains that the distinctive brickwork we’ve seen everywhere is something Tozeur is famous for. The technology was first done in Damascus (hundreds and hundreds of years ago) and made it’s way West to Tozeur (by the 13th or 14th century, if I’m remembering correctly). Each of the design patterns have different cultural meanings and significance (the only one I remember is the Caravan symbol, representing the Bedouins).
We’re wandering around after most of the shops has closed (to beat that late afternoon heat!).
There are a brother and sister riding their bicycles along the mostly empty streets, their laughter and taunts to each other echoing off the alley walls. We come to this wall with all of these tiny ledges in it.
You’re supposed to stand a certain distance away, facing away from the wall, and tossing a pebble over your shoulder. If the pebble lands and stays in one of the tiny ledges, you’ll get the husband that you want. Yassine tried twice and failed. Michael and I were also unsuccessful in our husband-hunting rock throw attempts, and jokingly consoled each other that a pebble probably wasn’t predictive of ones marriage prospects. Ha. Arthur thought we were all being too silly and walked away.
We stop at a Berber Cafe with gorgeous panoramic rooftop views, and some very fun and funky designs.
More mint tea. Always a nice way to relax and chat. I learn that in Tunisia, they don’t use the Arabic word for tea, instead using the French word. “We/I would like tea/coffee please” was one of the Arabic phrases I’d memorized. Happily, pretty easy to substitute thé for shay. (Never actually got to ask anyone for coffee, as Yassine would often order for the group. Or when at an actual coffee shop, would be ordering by the specific espresso drink we wanted. But saying the arabic word qahwa is VERY fun. I recommend y’all listen to it online and then repeat. Very pleasing).
A bit more wandering through town as the sun is setting, including this wall that was part of a former Synagogue.
then into the van for a drive to our dinner. Heading into the oasis where restaurant Chak-Wak is located, we lose all street lights. So we’re driving small dark roads with palm trees all around us. Strangely Ashraf has the interior dome light on in the van. Which is tough for visibility and I can hear my dad’s voice in my head, disagreeing with this choice. (We later learn that when near the Algerian border, it’s required by law to drive around with the dome lights on at night, so police and guards can check more easily for smugglers, etc. Yikes!). It does feel like we’re driving out into the absolute black wilderness. Eery, but also lovely, with all these palm trees illuminated only by our headlights. Eventually we come to a small parking lot and an impressive historical battlement/wall of some kind.
It was only AFTER I GOT HOME and Googled the restaurant that I learned the Chak Wak is a whole park area in the oasis, including FIFTY DINOSAUR STATUES, as well as some Zebra and Giraffe Statues, and a museum. Honestly, it looks like an amazing blend of cheesy and awesome. But the part we visited was just some lovely historic kasbah-like walls, palm trees, ponds, and a very nice restaurant. As we’re walking along the wall, I see a gecko!! Hello Best Friend! We end up seeing several scurrying along the wall, and popping into tiny crevices to hide. Yay!
The restaurant is huge.
The menu is in french, and there are no descriptions/ingredients listed: just the names of dishes. I order “Supreme Poulet Fondant” which proved to be chicken breast covered in melted white cheese and spices. Both Arthur and Michael had said they were still full from lunch, so were just going to get something light. Arthur ordered the spaghetti and was presented with a plate that could have fed a family of four!! Michael ordered bric (a Tunisian specialty, we’d had often. It’s a fried thin pastry, filled often with egg and tuna fish). And a side of french fries. Yassine and Ashraf both got a pizza. There were several different pizza flavors listed but not explained on the menu. When served, they’re given pizza topped with Tuna Fish and Black Olives. (If I haven’t mentioned it yet, Tuna fish is everywhere here. Often used to top salads. In the Bric. Often even a small bowl of tuna is served next to the required harissa hot sauce, olives, and french bread available with every meal. And Yassine is also a fan of cats, and has often snuck a small piece of tuna (or lamb) for nearby street cats during our meals). So I ask, “Is that the Tunisian Pizza?” (Tunisia Pizza was one of the three flavors on the menu). They both look at me, stunned, and state obviously, “No, this is the Naples Pizza.” (huh). Then what are the Tunisian toppings? “Onions with a hot sauce.” Holy Heartburn, Batman! Ha. It’s a really nice and relaxed dinner, with good conversation and reminiscing already, as our trip is quickly winding down. The live music then starts up. Two older gents are playing: one on a handheld drum (bongo sized, but not a bongo) and the other on a larger than standard keyboard. Yassine says they’re playing mostly traditional songs. It’s lovely.
As we drive back to the city of Tozeur, our van makes a stop in front of the four gelato places we’d driven past earlier on our way out of town. Arthur “Why are we stopping?” Yassine “Because you said you wanted ice cream.” Arthur had indeed said this, multiple times, as we drove past the shops and then again at dinner. But apparently he was joking (I also did not pick up on it being a joke this time. And I, also, am NEVER mad about getting some gelato). As we’re walking to get in line, Arthur bemusedly and with appreciation says, “Jeez. This guy. You can’t say anything around him without him doing it. If I asked for the moon, he’d probably give it to me.” Yassine, sincerely, “This is my job” with his hand over his heart. Arthur graciously expresses his gratitude, forgoing his standard joke response. He truly seems a bit dumbfounded that his “joke” wishes for ice cream were delivered. So many flavor choices. I ask for melon (as I can see the juicy cantaloupe color, and I tend to prefer the fruit flavors). Yassine is concerned. He tried to clarify, twice, Melon? You want Melon? When I answer in the affirmative, he says I should taste it first. So then he obtains a taster spoon for me. Yup, it’s delicious and refreshing and what I want.
(Although clearly NOT a favorite flavor for Yassine, who got one of the chocolate combination flavors). We’re loaded back into the van WITH OUR ICE CREAM (I again hear my father’s disapproving voice). It’s only a two minute drive to the hotel. We say good night to Yassine and Ashraf, and the boys and I finish our ice cream at a lovely poolside table. The hotel trees are lit up at night with different bright rainbow colored lights. A bright blue tree. A hot pink tree. A vibrant yellow tree. It’s unexpected but fun. Lovely chats continue. So pleased that our small group of strangers happened to be a small group of kind strangers and that we all got along so well. Because a 12 night tour is a LONG time! Eventually we realize how late it is, and head off to bed. Happily we don’t have to leave super early, even though we have a longer drive to our next stop. Because there really isn’t anything to see/do en route, Yassine says we can sleep in a bit. Breakfast 9:30am, and leave hotel 10am. Sounds great.