I've been told I'm a traveller and not a tourist. And this holiday verified that as the truth. An all-inclusive long weekend at a resort in Tunis was everything I loathe about holidaying. Luckily, I was on holiday with some pretty amazing people, so the laughs more than made up for the tack.
I don't do all-inclusives. I don't do resorts. I don't do entertainment teams. And I don't do canteen type restaurants. The hotel we stayed in Tunis has all of this. While this made me sad, as Tunisia is part of the Arab League, packed with ancient history and boasts a Mediterranean coastline. I saw none of this.
The journey from the airport to the hotel reminded me of what Cyprus was like before chavs overran Ayia Napa and old people populated Paphos. It was charmingly old-fashioned. Everything was beautifully rickety as the sun beat down on dusty roads and the sound of Allah Akbar filled the air.
It was a country unspoiled by commercialism and consumerism. It was holding onto its identity with all its might.
We pulled into the resort, which from the outside felt like we'd taken a wrong turning and ended up in Baghdad. As we drove through the gates, held in place by sun-bleached stone wall, it started to resemble something more familiar. It was clear that Tunisia was preparing to become the homogenised tourist destination for people who didn't really want to be aboard.
Sprawled across resort were a network of rooms, shops, restaurants, bars and even a hammam. You didn't need to leave and we didn't.
Everything looked a bit tired and dated. It had that look of the 90s and as we headed out of the 00s, it didn't show signs of catching up. This feel attracted a certain type of traveller. We were because we wanted a weekend break and it was cheap. Other people were there for their main holiday.
It was eating third rate food, being harassed by fourth rate entertainers and being surrounded by uncouth, uncultured, pink fatties who resembled pigs in the deep fryer... or the chair people in Wall-E. The thing that disappointed me the most was that this could be anywhere in the world. The fact that it was in Tunisia meant the gift shops were full of camels (so many camels) instead of pyramids or Big Ben and there was a vague attempt at Tagine. Apart from the hammam! Credit where credit's due, the hammam was brilliant. I think it's the best scrub down and massage I've ever had.
I didn't feel like I got to know the country. I don't feel any wiser about it. I frequently forget that I've been there, as the other than what I read in the Lonely Planet, I know nothing about the culture, history or people. I couldn't even tell you want Tunisians to look like. This is a great shame, as it has a lot more going for it then a tacky resort. A hell of a lot more.
Being Cypriot, I have an affinity with Arabic culture. I love ancient and political history. I love beautiful architecture. I love beautiful beaches. Tunisia is packed with all over this and I saw none. Fortunately, the booze was free flowing as were the laughs.
When people say they've been to Tunisia, I imagine intrepid travellers who share tagines with nomads in the desert, the travellers who bothered to learn a bit of Arabic, people who spend hours walking around mosaics, people that go out of their way to visit the Star Wars set, people who spend the time living and learning the country. What I found in the microcosm were people who'd rather go to Butlins but also want sunshine. These are the people who should have their passports revoked.
First published October 2009.
