By the Sea

A beautiful day at Hammamet. After a couple of cooler days with a bit of rain and wind, today the sky is cerulean blue with scarcely a cloud. I visited the city of Hammamet, walked the medina, inside the reconstructed city walls, and explored the shops (suqs) selling largely similar items for tourists. I told the sellers (in French) that I was from Russia, and so couldn’t understand them. That seemed to startle them and keep them at bay. I did buy a gray Tunisian burnoose to add a bit of drama to chilly days. As I left, departing through the main city gate, I was startled to see a short column of cars with a procession of men in front. They were carrying a corpse, wrapped in green satin cloth decorated in gold with verses from the Qur'an, into the medina. I later learned that the cloth is green when a woman has died and white when it's a man. The pall bearers were probably taking the body to a mosque or home for a service before burial. There is a cemetery just outside the old city walls. No women were in attendance. The practice of when and how women partipate differs according to custom and region. Then I headed for the famous Sidi Bouhdid Café seen on most travel posters promoting Hammamet. It’s the trendiest and most popular café with tourists and celebrities, situated directly between the city wall of the medina and the shoreline of the Gulf of Hammamet. Fortunately, only a few travelers visit this time of year.

Doctors warn of the damage sunshine can do to the skin. But on a day like today, not too hot, pleasurably warm, sitting on a French café-style chair at a small, round table (fittingly with seashell decoration), enough at the edge of the thatched roof to catch the rays of the sun, the mood only lends itself to relaxation and reverie. The first hint of sun on my face yielded to a yearning for more. Once I sat down, my face couldn’t seem to absorb enough of the gently penetrating rays. It wasn’t long before I took off my shoes, stretched out my legs, and began to take advantage of the right to stay as long as you want in a French café, once having ordered. The cappuccinos were large, not like the smaller expresso-type versions à la white foam served in small glasses throughout much of North Africa. I also had a crêpe au fromage. What makes this place so interesting is the café (decorated with Oriental carpets, cushions, and Tunisian artifacts inside, chicha available), the city wall, which proves the backdrop, and the attraction of the view across the sea. No buildings can be taller than a cypress in Hammamet, so no monstrous structures mar the skyline. Greenery helps mask those that exist.

The seafront here is rocky. The water of the inlet immediately attracted my attention. I noticed it as soon as I walked out beyond the medina rampart to the front of the café. It’s not merely one color but dazzling aquamarine with shifting patches of royal blue. The currents in their unwavering courses add movement and serenity to the pattern. Here I could indulge a romantic, idyllic view of the world: a castle-like background, rocks and waves at my feet, a curve of the coast providing a dreamy, distant mountain setting against a lucent azure sky. Sitting in a café with a cappuccino, thinking I could be a Paul Klee, a Frank Lloyd Wright, or other famous person. After all, what happens if one stop’s dreaming?

The photo is from an Ottoman era villa in the medina in Tunis.