To A Different World: Kairouan To Monastir 

We have barely entered the chaotic louage station before someone spots us – two backpack laden travellers on the move – and points us in the direction of the correct ticket window for Monastir, and as soon as we have our tickets, a second person is there to show us to the right louage. This is just how Tunisia, and Kairouan, is: helpful people everywhere.

For those unfamiliar with this kind of transport, the louage and its counterparts in other countries, there is no timetable, the driver simply waits until all seats are taken and, as soon as they are, he hits the road. With a stroke of luck the Monastir bound louage has two seats left and the driver is waiting for his last two punters just as we rock up, so in less than five minutes from walking into the station we are on our way to the coast. Sometimes things just fall perfectly into place.

Tickets for the 75-minute journey cost £1.74 each; this particular louage carries eight passengers. That means that even if everyone is paying full price, the total  revenue for the trip is about £14 – petrol and labour must both be very cheap here.

Today heralds a point of change on this Africa adventure. We say goodbye to Kairouan on the last day of Ramadan so from here onwards the restrictions of the sacred month are gone; and as well as this we are swapping the holy city for what we expect to be the tourism-heavy resort town of Monastir for a few days. Quite some change on several levels.

Tonight is also the start of Eid, the celebration at the end of Ramadan, a day which traditionally sees families gather together to mark the end of the month, an even bigger celebration than that first day back in Luxor over four weeks ago. Immersing ourselves in iftar – the meal at the end of each day’s fasting – has been a real experience, a privilege and an education. 

Having indulged in iftar nights in our hotel (once), in decent restaurants (there’s no a la carte during Ramadan) and in the souks and alleys with the locals, we feel we’ve done justice to the learning curve. It might not surprise you to learn that our best experiences of iftar have been in those earthy downtown places rather than the more genteel versions in restaurants – not least our very last one at a street kitchen in Kairouan, which was superb. If you ever get chance to do this, our advice is that if you don’t like spicy food then don’t do it, as some of these iftar dishes are in blow-your-head-off territory, and it’s not as if you get any choice. Basically, your choice of meal during Ramadan is “yes please” or “no thank you”.

With Ramadan ending on a Sunday, the Eid celebrations start in earnest on the Monday, the first of three successive days of public holiday, and there is something of a festival feel in Monastir throughout the next two days. There is a tradition of ladies buying a new frock for Eid and, judging by the large numbers of smartly dressed females from toddlers to middle aged out enjoying the holiday sunshine, that tradition continues.

Families meet, children play, crowds mix – there is definitely a sense of the carefree in the air pretty much like public holidays back home, something akin to lively fairground or summer fete. Squares and parks are full all day, popcorn and candy floss trucks do roaring business, the menfolk play with children instead of sitting in the coffee bars. There is considerable feelgood.

With the Eid public holiday coinciding with shoulder season and a quiet time for tourism, we are witnessing something just a bit mystifying too. It’s interesting enough that the restaurants here are rammed with locals despite the fact that they are less authentic Tunisian and more touristic in nature – but the real intrigue is in the consumption of alcohol. Monastir is seemingly full of Muslims drinking, even to excess, evidently.

Muslims with alcohol? Really? What are we witnessing here, we wonder. A release at the end of Ramadan where the locals indulge themselves for a few days and then go back to obedience? Or are Muslims less devout here because of the tourist influence? Is it too easy to defect when temptation is so blatant? After our many weeks out here being part of an altogether different culture in which alcohol plays no part at all, it’s very strange to witness this.

Our base in Monastir is not in the main tourist area around Skanes but a hotel close to the marina, in town. Nevertheless, it’s clear that the town itself is somewhat affected by the tourist market – whilst there’s no doubting we are still in North Africa, there are obvious western influences in everything from clothing (far fewer in traditional Arab dress) to the menus in waterfront eateries. There are more Real Madrid shirts than djellabas in the souks. It’s by no means overdone, Monastir isn’t by any means a hotspot in the worst way and is definitively still Tunisian, but it is clearly a step towards the west compared to both Tunis and Kairouan.

The end of Ramadan feels like something of a release for us too, especially here in Monastir where things are different. For the first time in a month we can stop at a cafe and enjoy a coffee in the sun; for the first time in a month we can enjoy street food such as mlawi or chapati; we can drink water without going into hiding. Experiencing Ramadan and iftar has been a real travel story, but it feels very good to reach the freedom granted by the end of the sacred month.

There is no escaping the fact that Monastir is the birthplace of Tunisia’s favourite son – or should we say favourite father – the much loved and respected former President Habib Bourghiba, he who instigated independence from France, unified and modernised his country and remained President for 30 years. The Bourghiba Mosque looms over the main square but pride of place goes to the man’s splendid mausoleum sitting in grandeur at the end of its own tree lined boulevard. Bourghiba statues are dotted around the town. Tunisia in general reveres this particular hero, Monastir, his home, doubly so.

Apart from these, Monastir’s other dominant building is the “ribat”, or castle, a former garrison close to the shoreline. The ribat is beautifully restored – so much so that as we explore and climb its interior, parts of it look like a new build designed to look like something of great age, rather than the ancient castle which it actually is. There’s terrific views from the tower though. 

The Mediterranean shouts its characteristic shades of blue as it laps the shores, but finds itself competing with afternoon cloud which brings an unseasonable chill to the evening air. It’s a good job that the bars around the attractive marina have indoor space to entertain the locals (coats on), owners of the yachts moored in the harbour (getting rat arsed every night) and namby pamby hotel guests (us) because it isn’t warm enough to eat outdoors.

Those restaurants are very smoky by the way, there is no hint of a smoking ban in Tunisia and pretty much everywhere is a throwback in those terms – and it’s not just the cafes and restaurants; on buses and trains and even in food shops you will find yourself fighting through smoke clouds or being served by a smoking cashier.

This short call in Monastir was intended to be a little break before we resume normal activity levels at the next locations, but we’ve been a little thwarted by lower than expected temperatures. Still, we’ve had a decent beer and wine fix after our long abstinence, and those restaurants around the marina have ticked lots of boxes too.

On we go. Time to move back inland.