All cigarettes and (no) alcohol

They certainly flew their flag with pride

North Africa was the next stamp on my well exercised passport. To be precise: Tunisia. First African and first Muslim country in my vast territory.. Muslim country the week before Christmas, my ideal! Tunisia is 98% Muslim and a very homogenised country when it comes to race but I think in Tunis, especially, they exercise their faith like Christianity is in the States where Easter is barely recognised!

Of course my naivety gets the better of me each time and the rabbit in headlights mode kicks in …..this time I forgot I don’t speak Arabic or French. All those years ago I managed to book a gite for my French GCSE but, again, when the immigration person asked, en Francais, my name, I crumbled. Such a loser.

We have all been brought up not to get into cars with strange men but guess which fool did? I got into a car which was not taxi marked sans meter aussi et charged 6 times more than it should have been. He asked for one more dinah for the toll and then he high fived me for my appalling French. Certainly didn’t blow it up with him. Cheeky bugger.

The work aspect was very successful but my time there wasn’t. I was harassed off the locals, had two very intrusive massages (did I not learn from the first one and the second one she gave me a groin strain and I actually heard something pop), fell off a curb, twisted my ankle and wiping out, whilst checking out a blonde and I don’t even like blondes as a rule and this was in front of my customer, got a virus on my lap top, and then scored slides down the microscope whilst the pathologist smoked cigarettes and force fed me some home made chicken dish….home cooked food off customers is my biggest fear. Every GLP rule was broken in that one lab…..buerre dans la frigo, eating lunch in the lab, drinking the water supply and of course smoking. Of course smoking because as much as the multiple posted no smoking signs seemed to be ignored by everyone everywhere.



Hard day in the office



It was all very flat roof and satellite dishes where I was but Tunis proper was nice. You could have been in Europe with the wide boulevards and the café culture (and I did pass the Tour Eiffel. No, I really did and it wasn’t the hookah playing tricks) and at one point I thought it was akin to Saint Louis and West Palm Beach. (WPB made me want to cry too) I went into the medina but was warned not to turn left or right, take photographs or go further than 20 meters. I actually listened to what I was told and the constant hammering of the brass trinkets was enough for anybody not to want to venture more than 10 metres. You will just have to believe me that the colours were wonderful and the things to buy were great as my photos don’t do most things justice but they certainly didn’t here.



Fish and chips....Tunisian style.



Again, I was shown great hospitality and the kindness was overwhelming. I was invited to a customer’s house for dinner and as mentioned, home cooked food by customers isn’t on my to do list but I couldn’t turn them down and say I was too busy playing Scrabble or Lexulous on Facebook. That invitation caused anxiety for two days but I am so pleased I went as it was a delicious feast of true Tunisian food. Tunisian food is wonderful. For my first three meals I ate fish and chips and kebabs…..who said I wasn’t Geordie. Harrisa paste, olives and fennel. Hmmm, yes please I thought I was being tough whilst I pretended that I wasn’t burning my mouth off.

I really thought my days were numbered during my time there. My second cab ride was an experience that I didn’t think I was going to be able to write home about. As much as I may not be able to drive, I have had a lot of experience of being a passenger in countries where it’s not permitted to follow the rules of the road and stay in lane. Well this cab driver didn’t want to go against the grain so when he was honked at several times because he was cutting up a car he decided he would stop in the middle of a crossroads, in a huge rainstorm and take on two men who were half his age and twice his size. So I thought once they had killed the little old but aggressive man that they would then have to kill me as I would be the number one witness to their crime. So, what was a girl to do apart from shout at the top of her lungs “ARRET” in the back of the cab. The driver got back in like nothing had happened. C’est la vie, I suppose! The last parting shot was when my cases were hijacked by a professional porter who walked me to the wrong airline counter and he still expected a tip. Cheeky bugger.

Clearly the worst photos I have taken but I was trying to be discrete so I didn't get mugged.

I may not be the most slick and I am certainly not the most savvy person whilst on the road but I wouldn’t swap these experiences for anything

2010 has been a very interesting year. I have experienced monsoon season in Mumbai, a drought in Vellore, slept on a leopard print mattress in Siberia, went sight seeing when it was minus 25 deg C in Moscow, ate cheese sandwiches for 12 meals in Nussloch, was served a leg of veal in Belgrade and tasted communism in a glass in Prague. I am so lucky to get to see the places I do and to experience everyday life of these cities. I am finishing the year with one last trip…….in the words of Frank Sinatra…..Chicago Chicago. My kind of town.