Today we had planned to take a louage one hour inland to Kairouan, to see Tunisia's famous 7th century Great Mosque of Kairouan. For Muslims, visiting this mosque counts as a hajj to Mecca- it's that important.

We, umm, never made it.

In my defense...we'd spent all day yesterday in the dry, dusty, hell-hot sun visiting El Jem, including two hours round-trip in an un-airconditioned louage. And when the weather is so hot and sunny, and the Mediterranean Sea is so blue and inviting, one can't be expected to resist its siren call.

So we spent an entire glorious day on Sousse's Bou Jafaar Beach, reveling in an utterly perfect beach day (claras included). And it gave me time to reflect on our Tunisian adventure, as we approach the halfway mark of our trip.

So far, Tunisia has utterly confounded my expectations. In Sidi Bou Said, I was startled to realize that the town was so similar to Santorini in Greece- so much so that I would forget I was in Tunisia. From the blue and whitewashed buildings, to the endless cats sunbathing in the streets, to the café culture...this region seemed more Greek Island than Africa. (Well, until I saw the prices. Santorini ain't gonna sell me a tea for €1, unless it's 1978.)

In Hammamet, I was surprised by how prosperous and Mediterranean the town felt. Granted, it was made for (European) tourism, but it felt more like a Spanish seaside town than North African. I wasn't expecting an elegant dar with a rainforest shower, a rooftop pool, and air conditioning, for barely €50 per night. It almost felt like a Disney-fied representation of Tunisia.

Ironically, given that Hammamet and Sidi Bou Said were more Western than I expected, I was then surprised that Sousse was exactly what I'd assumed a Tunisian city to be...but somehow fulfilling my original expectation was not at all expected. (Was that confusing? Apologies, my mind has been blown.)

The medinas have been not at all what I expected either. I had envisioned an old town that buzzed with activity from early morning to late at night. But even though many residents live within the medina's walls, the coffeehouse and tourist nightclub culture happens far outside the walls. I'm not gonna lie, the medina's utter emptiness at night is really disconcerting. It feels like Barcelona's Gothic Quarter in the midst of the pandemic. If given another choice, I wouldn't stay within the medina's walls (though the legions of stray cats are adorbs).

The people of Tunisia have been a welcome surprise. Unlike Egypt or Morocco, where I felt like both a zoo animal and a walking ATM, Tunisian people have been warm, friendly, helpful, and respectful (well, except that one asshole grocery clerk in Sidi Bou Said who tried to jack me out of 5 dinar, assuming I didn't understand their fucked-up coinage- but I called him on it, so he doesn't count) (also, fuck that guy). But even the touts and vendors in the souk have been low-key and chill, with very little of the nonstop "madam madam you come buy I have best price" nonsense that makes me stabby. It's refreshingly unexpected.

The food has been a bit of a surprise as well. I had expected that alcohol wouldn't be readily available- and granted, most restaurants and shops don't sell it- but discovering Tunisia's not-half-bad rosés has been a bit of a shocker. And while shakshouka and chickpeas are nowhere to be found, we have discovered bamboulini: A giant ring of fried dough, coated in sugar, that is Tunisia's answer to the doughnut. And bamboulini is even sold by random guys on the beach, the way one can buy beer from sketchy dudes on Barcelona's beaches.

So, thus far midway into our first new country post-COVID, I'm remembering the fun of discovering the inside workings of another culture, and seeing and experiencing new things for the first time. It's kind of fun.

Tomorrow we head to the seaside town of Monastir. This time we're really going, I promise.