Hammamet is a sun-soaked Tunisian coastal resort town celebrated for its pristine white-sand beaches, a beautifully preserved medina, fragrant jasmine gardens, and a seamless blend of Arab-Andalusian heritage with modern Mediterranean resort culture.
Tunisia: 10 Day Tour
Contents
1. About Tunisia and our tour
2. Planning your visit
3. Best time to visit
4. Our itinerary
– Day 1 – Arrival in Tunis
– Day 2 – Exploring the Medina of Tunis
– Day 3 — The Bardo Museum, Carthage and Sidi Bou Said
– Day 4 – Testour, Dougga and the Road to Kairouan
– Day 5 – Kairouan: The Holy City
– Day 6 – Deserts, Ruins and Film Sets
– Day 7 – Underground Homes, Star Wars Hotels and Ancient Ksars
– Day 8 – El Jem, the Ribat of Monastir and Arrival in Sousse
– Day 9 – The Medina of Sousse, Zriba and Hammamet
– Day 10 – Departure Day
A 10 Day Tour of Tunisia
Tunisia announced itself with rain and colour — a wet arrival in Tunis followed by an immediate immersion into the richly layered Medina, the extraordinary Roman mosaics of the Bardo Museum, the ancient ruins of Carthage, and the picture-perfect hilltop village of Sidi Bou Said. From Tunis, the journey turned inland through a surprisingly green spring landscape, pausing at the Andalusian-influenced town of Testour and the remarkably preserved Roman city of Dougga, before arriving in Kairouan — the fourth holiest city in Islam — where the Grand Mosque, the Barber Memorial, and the ancient Aghlabid Basins offered a profound sense of the country’s deep spiritual and architectural heritage.
The journey then pushed south into the desert, and the landscape changed dramatically. Tozeur served as the gateway to a world of abandoned oasis villages, plunging canyons, and salt flats so vast and white they looked like another planet — which, in a sense, they had been, standing in for Tatooine across multiple Star Wars films. The Saharan dunes of Douz, the troglodyte Berber homes of Matmata, the ancient fortified granaries of Ksar Haddada and Ksar Ouled Soltane, and the ruined hilltop villages of Douiret and Chennini all added up to one of the most varied and visually astonishing stretches of the trip, combining deep history, extraordinary landscape, and more than a little cinematic legend.
The final days brought a return to the coast, with the monumental Roman amphitheatre at El Jem, the remarkable eighth-century Ribat of Monastir, and the living, breathing Medinas of Sousse and Hammamet all offering a fitting conclusion to the journey. Throughout, the warmth and knowledge of guide Zied and driver Yousef shaped the experience in ways that no itinerary alone could achieve — opening doors, sharing stories, and making the country feel genuinely accessible rather than merely visited. Tunisia turned out to be a place of startling variety and quiet generosity, and one that left a lasting impression.
Planning your visit to Tunisia
🌍 Planning Your Visit to Tunisia
Tunisia is a compact yet remarkably diverse country tucked into the northernmost tip of Africa. It sits between Algeria to the west and Libya to the east, with the Mediterranean Sea forming its northern and eastern coastline. Despite its modest size, it encompasses Mediterranean beaches, ancient ruins, fertile farmland, dramatic mountain ranges, and the vast Saharan desert in the south. The capital, Tunis, lies on the northeastern coast, roughly opposite the Italian island of Sicily. Tunisia is the smallest country in North Africa, but it packs an extraordinary range of landscapes, history, and culture into its borders.
✈️ Getting There
The main international gateway is Tunis-Carthage Airport, which handles direct flights from many European, Middle Eastern, and North African cities. For UK travellers, direct flights to Tunis are available from several major British airports, with flight times of around two and a half to three hours. During the summer holiday season, charter flights also operate into the regional airports at Monastir Habib Bourguiba, Enfidha-Hammamet, and Djerba-Zarzis, making it easy to fly directly into coastal resort areas rather than the capital.
For those who prefer travelling by sea, ferries sail year-round between Tunis and Marseille in France (a crossing of around 22 hours) and between Tunis and Palermo in Sicily (roughly 11 hours). During summer, additional ferry services connect Tunis with Civitavecchia near Rome and Genoa. These crossings are a relaxed and scenic way to arrive if time allows.
UK passport holders do not require a visa for stays of up to 90 days, making Tunisia an easy destination to visit without advance bureaucratic preparation. You simply arrive and enter. However, you must carry a valid full passport — a passport card is not accepted.
🚗 Getting Around
Tunisia has an extensive road network connecting all its main towns and cities, and travelling by car is one of the most efficient ways to explore the country, particularly for reaching more remote areas. Car hire is available at all international airports and through local agents. Visitors must hold a full driving licence that has been valid for at least one year. Road signs are posted in both French and Arabic. Speed limits are 50 km/h in built-up areas, 90 km/h on open roads, and 110 km/h on motorways. Seatbelts are compulsory in the front. Drivers should remain vigilant for livestock on rural roads and for unpredictable driving behaviour, especially in cities. Road quality can deteriorate quickly on minor roads and in the south, where some roads are unpaved and prone to sand coverage.
The national bus company, SNTRI, runs a fleet of air-conditioned coaches between towns and cities across the country. Buses are inexpensive and reasonably comfortable, though booking ahead is advisable during the busy summer months of August and September.
Trains serve many of the main cities, running as far south as Gabès and Tozeur in the west. Rail travel is slower and less reliable than buses but is a pleasant, affordable option. There are three classes on most routes, all air-conditioned. Passengers can only book tickets within three days of departure, usually in person at a station. Rail enthusiasts should not miss the historic Lézard Rouge (Red Lizard) train, which runs through the spectacular Selja Gorge and uses beautifully restored carriages dating from 1911.
One of the most practical and popular ways to travel between towns is by louage — a shared long-distance taxi or minibus that departs once it is full of passengers. Louages are faster than buses, cover virtually the entire country, and are priced similarly to bus fares. They leave from dedicated louage stations, and travelling in the morning gives the best chance of finding a ride quickly.
Within cities, taxis are widely available and inexpensive, as fuel prices are government-subsidised. In Tunis, it is worth using a ride-hailing app such as Bolt, which is cheaper and avoids the need to negotiate fares. Tunis also has a local tram network and a light rail (Metro Léger) system. Cycling is possible in some resort towns such as Sousse and on the island of Djerba, and bikes can be hired from hotels and guesthouses in those areas. Those cycling in rural or southern regions should be cautious, as roads can be hazardous and rock-throwing has been reported in isolated areas.
🕌 Culture and Religion
Tunisia is a predominantly Muslim country, and Islam shapes much of everyday life, social norms, and the legal framework. That said, Tunisia is considered one of the most progressive and open Muslim-majority countries in the region, particularly in cities and coastal areas, where a mix of traditional and modern lifestyles coexist quite naturally.
The call to prayer is heard throughout the day, and mosques feature prominently in every town and city. Visitors are welcome to appreciate the architecture of many mosques from the outside, and some are open to non-Muslim visitors, though you should always check beforehand and dress accordingly. Women are required to cover their hair and shoulders when entering a mosque, and everyone must remove their shoes.
Dress modestly when away from the beach resorts. In cities, medinas, rural villages, and at religious sites, both men and women should cover their shoulders and knees. Beachwear is acceptable at coastal resorts, but topless sunbathing is not appropriate in Tunisia and is likely to cause offence. The more conservative the area, the more important it is to dress modestly.
During the holy month of Ramadan, the pace and rhythm of daily life changes significantly. Most Muslims fast from dawn to dusk, and eating, drinking, or smoking in public during daylight hours is disrespectful and may be illegal in more traditional areas. Many restaurants close during the day or offer limited service, though hotels and tourist-area restaurants often remain open. Evenings during Ramadan are festive and lively, with family gatherings and a warm communal atmosphere that many visitors find memorable.
Alcohol is legal in Tunisia and is served in hotels and some restaurants and bars. It is also sold in certain supermarkets, though not on Fridays. Public drunkenness is frowned upon.
Public displays of affection between couples — regardless of gender — are best avoided, particularly in more conservative or rural settings. Homosexuality is illegal in Tunisia, and any public expression of same-sex relationships is both taboo and a criminal offence. Unmarried couples sharing a hotel room are technically in breach of the law, though this is rarely enforced in tourist-facing hotels. It is advisable simply to refer to each other as husband and wife when checking in.
Tunisia has a strong tradition of hospitality, and locals are generally warm, curious, and welcoming towards visitors. A few words in Arabic or French are always appreciated. In souks and markets, bargaining is expected and is part of the shopping experience. It is polite to accept offers of mint tea when visiting shops, as this is a customary part of doing business.
📸 Photography
Photography restrictions apply in certain locations. It is illegal to photograph military installations, government buildings, embassies, and airports. Always ask permission before taking photographs of local people, especially in more traditional communities. Failure to respect these rules can result in your camera or phone being confiscated, or more serious consequences.
💊 Health and Medical Care
Tunisia has a reasonable healthcare system in its main cities, but private hospitals and clinics can be very expensive for visitors, and immediate payment is typically required. Comprehensive travel insurance that includes medical cover and emergency evacuation is strongly recommended before you travel. Standard vaccinations such as tetanus, diphtheria, and polio should be up to date. Hepatitis A vaccination is also advisable, particularly if you plan to eat at local restaurants and street food stalls. Tap water is generally safe in cities but many visitors prefer to drink bottled water as a precaution, especially in rural areas.
💰 Money and Currency
The currency is the Tunisian Dinar (TND). It is a controlled currency, which means it cannot legally be imported or exported. You obtain dinars once inside the country, either through banks, licensed exchange offices, or ATMs. ATMs are widely available in cities and tourist areas but much rarer in rural and desert regions, so carry enough cash before heading off the beaten track.
Declare the amount of foreign currency you bring into the country if it exceeds the equivalent of 5,000 TND, and keep all currency exchange receipts throughout your trip, as you may need them at departure. You will not be permitted to leave with the equivalent of 30,000 TND or more in cash. Many smaller shops, markets, and local restaurants operate on a cash-only basis, so it is wise to always carry some dinars on you.
🛡️ Safety and Security
Tunisia has maintained a state of emergency since 2015, following a period of terrorist attacks. While this grants authorities enhanced powers, millions of visitors travel to the country each year without incident. The main cities and coastal resorts are generally considered safe, but it is sensible to remain aware of your surroundings, particularly in crowded public spaces such as markets, tourist sites, transport hubs, and restaurants.
Avoid travelling to the border regions with Algeria and Libya, which remain high-risk areas due to terrorist activity, cross-border smuggling, and armed clashes. The central-western mountain regions, including parts of the governorates of Kasserine and Kef, are designated military operations zones. Some areas in the far south, including the area south of Remada in Tataouine governorate, are fenced-off military zones where entry is prohibited.
Petty crime such as pickpocketing and bag-snatching does occur in tourist areas and crowded markets. Keep valuables secure, avoid carrying all your important documents together, and do not leave belongings unattended. Protests and demonstrations are not uncommon, and Friday afternoons in city centres can see gatherings more likely to escalate — it is sensible to avoid these areas at those times.
Carry photo identification with you at all times, as police and military checkpoints are frequent across the country. Tourists can be stopped and asked for ID, particularly in areas near troubled border regions. Always approach checkpoints slowly and cooperate politely with officers.
Drug laws are very strict. Possession, use, or trafficking of illegal substances carries severe penalties, including lengthy prison sentences.
🌐 Language
The official language is Arabic, with Tunisian Arabic the dialect spoken in everyday life. French is widely used throughout the country, especially in urban areas, and many people working in tourism speak some English. Road signs and much official signage appear in both Arabic and French. Learning even a few basic phrases in Arabic or French is warmly received by locals and can make getting around significantly easier.
The best time to visit Tunisia
Tunisia is a year-round destination, but the experience varies dramatically by season. From the sun-scorched Sahara summers to mild Mediterranean winters, knowing when to go depends on what you want to see and do.
🌸 Spring (March–May)
Spring is widely regarded as one of the finest times to visit Tunisia. Temperatures are pleasantly warm — typically between 18°C and 26°C — and the landscape is at its most vivid, with wildflowers carpeting the northern hills and the desert edges blooming after winter rains. The sea begins to warm up by May, making coastal resorts like Hammamet and Sousse increasingly tempting. Crowds are moderate, prices reasonable, and the weather reliably agreeable for sightseeing, hiking in the Atlas ranges, or exploring the ancient ruins of Carthage and Dougga without the punishing heat of summer.
What to pack: Light layers are essential — warm mornings give way to hot afternoons, so breathable trousers, cotton shirts and a light jacket or cardigan will serve you well. Comfortable walking shoes, sunscreen (factor 30+), sunglasses and a sun hat are must-haves. Pack a light waterproof layer for occasional April showers, and modest clothing for visiting mosques and medinas.
☀️ Summer (June–August)
Summer in Tunisia is hot — emphatically so. Coastal areas sit between 30°C and 35°C, whilst the Saharan south can easily exceed 45°C. The beaches are at their most vibrant, and the resort towns of Djerba, Monastir and Port El Kantaoui are in full swing. However, the interior and desert regions are best avoided unless you have a serious heat tolerance and a well-planned itinerary. Ramadan (dates vary by year) can also affect opening hours and the general rhythm of daily life, though it offers a fascinating cultural window if approached respectfully.
What to pack: Pack light, loose-fitting clothing in natural fabrics such as linen or cotton. High-factor sunscreen (50+), a wide-brimmed hat and UV-protective sunglasses are non-negotiable. Bring a reusable water bottle and electrolyte sachets for desert excursions. Modest cover-ups are important for non-beach areas, and sandals or breathable trainers are ideal. Evening temperatures remain warm, so heavy layers are unnecessary.
🍂 Autumn (September–November)
Autumn rivals spring as the best overall time to visit. The intense summer heat subsides, sea temperatures remain warm well into October, and the crowds thin out considerably after the school holiday exodus. September and October are particularly golden months — ideal for combining beach relaxation with cultural exploration. The south becomes accessible again for Saharan adventures, and the landscapes of the Dorsal mountains take on beautiful amber and ochre hues. November brings cooler, occasionally rainy weather in the north but remains mild compared to most of Europe.
What to pack: Similar to spring — breathable daywear with warmer layers for evenings and November travel. A light waterproof jacket becomes increasingly useful as the season progresses. Pack walking shoes suitable for varied terrain, sunscreen, and modest clothing for medinas. A scarf doubles as warmth and cultural respect.
❄️ Winter (December–February)
Winter in Tunisia is far milder than most European destinations — northern coastal cities like Tunis, Bizerte and Tabarka see average daytime temperatures of 14°C–18°C, making it perfectly walkable and comfortable for sightseeing. Rainfall increases, particularly in December and January, but lengthy downpours are the exception rather than the norm. The Sahara, paradoxically, offers spectacular winter conditions: cool, clear days ideal for camel treks and stargazing. This is the quietest and most affordable time to visit, with hotels and tours often significantly discounted.
What to pack: Bring a proper warm jacket, jumpers or fleeces, and waterproof footwear. Jeans or warmer trousers replace summer linens. Layers remain the strategy of choice, as sunny afternoons can be surprisingly warm. Sunscreen is still worth packing, especially in the south. A compact umbrella or packable rain jacket is advisable for the north.
📊 Seasonal Summary
🏆 Overall Best Time to Visit
For most travellers, spring (April–May) and autumn (September–October) represent the sweet spot for visiting Tunisia. The weather is warm but not overwhelming, the beaches are enjoyable, the ancient sites are explorable without wilting in the heat, and the Sahara is within comfortable reach. Those on a tighter budget or drawn to the romance of an uncrowded medina would do well to consider a winter visit, which rewards the intrepid with lower prices, authentic atmosphere, and extraordinary desert conditions. Summer remains the choice of beach-lovers and resort-goers who can tolerate the heat — but for a well-rounded Tunisian experience that takes in the country’s remarkable cultural heritage, coastal beauty, and desert grandeur, the shoulder seasons are simply unbeatable.
Our Itinerary
🛬 ✈️ Day 1 — Arrival in Tunis
After an early departure and a long day of travel, including a delayed flight and a wet arrival on the tarmac in pouring rain, we finally touched down in Tunis and made our way through immigration without too much difficulty. Waiting in arrivals were our guide, Zied, and our driver, Yousef, and within minutes we were on the road into the heart of the city. The drive gave us our first glimpse of Tunis — a bustling, layered city where modern avenues open unexpectedly onto ancient alleyways, and the call to prayer drifts across rooftops at dusk. We checked into the Victoria Grand, a hotel whose modest exterior belied a gloriously decorative interior of patterned tiles, painted ceilings, and beautifully crafted doors. It was the perfect introduction to a country where beauty is often found just behind an unremarkable façade.
🕌 Day 2 — Exploring the Medina of Tunis
Our first full day began in the Medina of Tunis, one of the oldest and best-preserved medinas in the Arab world. Founded in the seventh century, it grew into a centre of trade, learning, and religion during the Islamic golden age, and walking its narrow, winding alleys today still feels like stepping back through centuries of layered history. The streets twist and turn beneath ornate balconies and wooden mashrabiya screens, lined with small shops, cafés, and workshops where artisans craft leather goods, perfumes, and metalwork by hand. The smell of spices, fresh bread, and grilled meat mingles with the distant sound of the call to prayer echoing from the minarets, and every corner offers something new — a hidden courtyard, a centuries-old doorway painted brilliant blue or deep red and studded with geometric patterns said to offer protection against misfortune. Our guide, Zied, walked us through the quarter with the ease of someone who has known its rhythms all his life, pointing out former palaces now divided into apartments, hammams tucked behind arched entrances, and mosques almost invisible unless you were looking closely. A highlight was the Zitouna Mosque, dating from the eighth century — its peaceful courtyard lined with carved stone columns and arches, and its tiled minaret rising above the surrounding rooftops. From a nearby rooftop terrace, we sipped mint tea and looked out across a skyline where satellite dishes sit beside ancient domes, the old and new coexisting with a particular Tunisian ease.
The afternoon and evening rounded off a remarkable introduction to the country. We dined at a restaurant hidden down a shabby-looking passageway near our hotel — a classic Tunis trick, where the exterior gives nothing away and the interior turns out to be warm, welcoming, and utterly wonderful. Over two hours and four courses, we worked through salads, soup, couscous, grilled dishes, and a rich dessert, every plate bursting with the bold, spiced flavours that Tunisian food does so well. Later in the meal, we struck up a conversation with a British couple, Phillip and Sarah, who were travelling with their five-year-old son Mikael — a bright, energetic boy who latched onto us immediately and kept us thoroughly entertained while we chatted about travel, teaching, and life between countries. It was one of those easy, unplanned encounters that remind you how much of the pleasure of travel comes not from the itinerary itself but from the people you meet along the way, and it set a sociable, curious tone for the rest of the trip.
🏛️ Day 3 — The Bardo Museum, Carthage and Sidi Bou Said
We began the day at the Bardo Museum, one of the most significant museums in the Mediterranean and quite simply one of the most impressive places either of us has visited anywhere. Housed in a grand former beylical palace — all high ceilings, carved stucco, painted tiles, and arched doorways — the museum holds a breathtaking collection spanning Punic, Roman, Byzantine, and Islamic periods of Tunisian history. The Roman mosaic galleries are the undisputed crown jewels of the collection: enormous panels covering entire walls and floors, composed of hand-cut tiles arranged with extraordinary precision into scenes of mythology, hunting, banquets, and literary figures. We found ourselves rooted to the spot in front of a mosaic of Virgil, depicted between the Muses with lines of poetry visible on his scroll — a moving tribute to learning and culture from nearly two thousand years ago. Equally absorbing were the Punic artefacts, including delicately carved stelae from ancient Carthage bearing inscriptions to the deities Baal and Tanit, and the Islamic art galleries, where carved wooden minbar panels from Kairouan’s Great Mosque and flowing calligraphic ceramics offered a very different but equally compelling kind of beauty. The museum does a wonderful job of presenting Tunisia as what it truly is — a crossroads of civilisations, where Phoenician, Roman, Byzantine, Arab, and Andalusian cultures have all left deep and lasting marks.
After a fine vegetarian lunch at Les Trois Marins beside the old port, we headed to Carthage, perched along the Mediterranean coast and once one of the most powerful cities of the ancient world. Founded by Phoenician settlers around 814 BC and later Rome’s greatest rival, Carthage was obliterated in 146 BC before being rebuilt as a major Roman city — and walking through its ruins today, you feel the full weight of those layered histories pressing up through the ground. We visited the Punic Ports, marvelling at the engineering genius of the circular naval harbour that once accommodated over two hundred warships; the vast Antonine Baths, among the largest Roman bath complexes ever built, whose shattered columns still convey something of their original imperial grandeur; and Byrsa Hill, the ancient citadel from which the whole bay stretches out before you, dominated by the nineteenth-century Saint Louis Cathedral — a curious but rather fitting symbol of Tunisia’s endlessly complicated, multi-faith past. We ended the day in the village of Sidi Bou Said, perched on a cliff to the north of Carthage, wandering its narrow cobbled lanes between white-washed walls and sky-blue doors, pausing at a quiet hilltop cemetery overlooking the sea, and listening to a local musician whose playing drew passing visitors into spontaneous dance. After the weight of history at Carthage, Sidi Bou Said felt like a long, easy exhale.
🌿 Day 4 — Testour, Dougga and the Road to Kairouan
The morning surprised us before we had even left Tunis. We had expected dry, dusty plains and barren scrubland, but the countryside that greeted us as we drove north was green and thriving — rolling hills of wheat and barley, groves of olive trees, fields of vegetables, and small flocks of sheep tended by elderly shepherds wrapped in traditional robes. It was spring, and the land was making the most of it. Our first stop was Testour, a hillside town founded in the sixteenth century by Andalusian Muslims and Jews who fled Spain during the Reconquista, bringing with them their architecture, skills, language, and food. The influence is visible everywhere — in the red-tiled rooftops, the carved wooden doors, the layout of the streets — and it lends the place a character quite different from anywhere else in Tunisia. Testour is famous for two things: its extraordinary mosque with a clock tower that runs anti-clockwise, its hands moving from right to left in reflection of the direction of Arabic script, and its cheese, produced from local goats’ milk and sold in small shops with no sign above the door. We sampled some at a café near the square — soft, slightly tangy, and very fresh — eaten alongside a bitter black coffee while older men chatted at nearby tables and the village went about its unhurried, steady life. It was the kind of stop that doesn’t shout for attention but stays with you long after the grander sites have blurred together.
From Testour we drove to Dougga, widely regarded as the best-preserved Roman city in North Africa and quite unlike anything else we had seen. Set on a hill overlooking fertile plains, the ruins feel genuinely untouched — there is no later construction obscuring the layout, no town built over the top — just the city as it was, worn by time but largely intact, with Roman streets still walkable, Latin inscriptions still legible, and mosaics still in place beneath open skies. Zied led us methodically through the site, bringing each structure to life: the theatre carved into the hillside and capable of holding 3,500 spectators; the Capitol temple dedicated to Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, its massive columns rising above wide ceremonial steps; the Forum where civic life once buzzed; the Roman Baths with their underfloor heating and mosaic-floored changing rooms; and the curiously moving Temple of Baal Hammon, older than the Roman structures around it and a reminder that Dougga’s history reaches back further than the empire that made it famous. We ended the Dougga section of the day with a traditional lunch at a Berber family home nearby — served in a room that doubled as the laundry, with fresh vegetable stew, salads, brik, and warm bread — before driving the long, gradually drying road southeast to Kairouan, watching the green hills slowly give way to pale, scrubby desert as the minarets and domes of the holy city finally appeared on the horizon like a mirage.
🕍 Day 5 — Kairouan: The Holy City
Kairouan is one of those places that earns its reputation without effort. Founded in 670 CE as a military outpost and quickly grown into a major centre of Islamic faith and scholarship, it holds the status of the fourth holiest city in Islam — after Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem — and the weight of that history is present in its streets, its mosques, its medina, and the faces of the people who live there. We began the morning at the visitor centre, climbing to the rooftop for an orientation view across the city, with the Great Mosque’s ancient minaret on one side and the vast circular Aghlabid Basins glimmering on the other — ninth-century cisterns that stored and filtered water brought in by aqueduct, a feat of early Islamic engineering as impressive in its way as anything the Romans built. From there, Yousef drove us to the Barber Memorial, dedicated to one of the Prophet’s companions who is said to have carried three hairs from the Prophet’s beard and was buried here after dying in battle. The complex is a masterpiece of Tunisian Islamic design — courtyards tiled floor-to-ceiling in intricate zellige patterns of blue and green, ceilings carved with floral and geometric motifs, columns of slender marble, and an atmosphere of deep, genuine peace. We also visited the old cemetery outside the medina walls, where simple whitewashed tombs stretch across a sandy hilltop and locals come quietly to pray. It was a place of striking simplicity and contemplative beauty.
The Grand Mosque of Kairouan was the centrepiece of the day, and it did not disappoint. Originally built by Uqba ibn Nafi in 670 CE and expanded many times since, the mosque is a forest of columns — many of them repurposed from Roman and Byzantine ruins, varying in style and height — beneath a richly painted wooden ceiling, with a mihrab surrounded by marble panels and mosaics and a carved wooden minbar dating from the ninth century, one of the oldest surviving examples of Islamic artistry in the world. It was a major centre of religious education in the Maghreb for centuries, functioning as mosque, university, library, and community hub in one. Zied spoke about it with evident pride and deep knowledge, and his account gave us a far richer understanding of the place than we could have arrived at alone. Later in the day we were taken through quieter parts of the medina — away from the souvenir stalls and into lanes of workshops and forgotten courtyards — where Karen helped a young boy fix his bicycle chain and was invited by a young perfume-maker to record a short English-language advertisement for her Facebook page. Small moments, but the kind that make a city feel genuinely alive. We drove onward to Tozeur in the late afternoon, crossing a landscape that grew steadily more arid and sun-bleached with every kilometre, until the oasis city emerged from the desert plain with its extraordinary brickwork facades and the promise of the Sahara just beyond.
🏜️ Day 6 — Deserts, Ruins and Film Sets
We set off from Tozeur in a 4WD with a local driver who navigated the dissolving desert roads with the calm assurance of someone for whom tarmac has always been optional. Our destination was Chebika, an abandoned Berber oasis village pressed against a wall of rock and slowly being reclaimed by the desert. Once sustained by a natural spring and carefully managed irrigation channels, the village was destroyed by flooding and never rebuilt — leaving behind a collection of sun-bleached ruins where staircases lead to nothing and doorways open onto empty air. From the ruins, a narrow path climbed into the rocky hills and descended into a canyon where water seeped from the rock face and the world transformed almost instantly — plants growing thickly, dragonflies hovering, frogs croaking loudly, and small birds darting through reeds, the whole scene feeling almost absurdly alive after the bare desert above. We continued into Mides Canyon, where high jagged rock walls layered in colours that a geology textbook would linger over enclosed a cool, contemplative space where old footpaths were still worn smooth by generations of villagers. We later visited a smaller canyon with a waterfall that had served as a filming location — its theatrical combination of steep rock walls, flowing water, and echoing silence making the reason immediately obvious — and walked along the stream to the falls, taking our shoes off and cooling our feet in water that was clear, cold, and deeply refreshing after a long morning in the dust.
The afternoon took us firmly into the realm of cinematic legend. We stopped at Sidi Bouhlel Canyon — known to film fans everywhere as Star Wars Canyon — where the sandstone cliffs and rocky outcrops had been used repeatedly for the desert planet Tatooine, and where it was entirely easy to imagine small hooded figures scrambling over Jawa Rock. From there, we visited the Mos Espa film set itself, where several structures remain standing in the desert: streets, building façades, Watto’s shop, and Sebulba’s café, looking like a ghost town waiting for residents who will never arrive. The desert has absorbed the set and refuses to treat it as fiction. Nearby, the wind-sculpted Yardangs — long ridges carved into extraordinary shapes by sand and time — served as the backdrop for a famous lightsaber duel, and standing among them it was instantly clear why the location scouts had chosen this spot. We later crossed the vast salt flats of Chott El Jerid, a landscape so flat and white and shimmering it had been used in film to represent another planet entirely, and made a brief stop at the small domed homestead ruin from a famous Star Wars scene before arriving at our camp on the edge of the Saharan dunes. As the sun set, we walked out into the silence, watched the sand change colour in the fading light, ate communally around a fire, and — thanks to a quiet beer run by Zied and Yousef in Douz — raised a quiet glass to one of the longest, dustiest, and most thoroughly extraordinary days of the trip.
🌅 Day 7 — Underground Homes, Star Wars Hotels and Ancient Ksars
The desert night had been cool and quiet in a way that only very remote places achieve — the kind of silence that makes you realise how much background noise you normally accept without question. We woke early to a sky shifting from deep blue to pale grey, washed our faces in cold water, and ate a breakfast of bread with olive oil from Zied’s own trees and honey from his own hives, both of which elevated the simple meal considerably. The drive to Matmata took us through a softly rolling landscape of sandy browns and chalky greys, sparse vegetation, and wide skies, and the town itself turned out to be one of the most fascinating places of the entire journey. The Berber inhabitants here developed, over many centuries, a system of troglodyte dwellings — homes excavated directly into the earth, with large circular pits dug several metres deep and rooms carved around the sides, all opening onto a central courtyard open to the sky. The design is not primitive but brilliantly practical: underground rooms stay cool in summer and warm at night, the thick earth walls insulate without any modern technology, and the inward-facing courtyards encourage both light and community. We were welcomed into one such home by a local family, passed through a cool tunnel into a sunlit courtyard surrounded by carved stone rooms, and offered homemade pastries and mint tea poured with practised flair. Sitting there, watching the family move quietly through their day, it was easy to understand why this way of building had endured for so long.
From Matmata, we visited the Sidi Driss troglodyte hotel — made internationally famous as the interior of Luke Skywalker’s childhood home in Star Wars: A New Hope — where the rooms bore the names of characters and the walls were covered in photographs from the original filming, though the building itself remained an entirely genuine troglodyte dwelling, cool, quiet, and deeply atmospheric beneath all the pop culture decoration. We then spent time at two of the region’s finest ksars — Ksar Haddada and the magnificent Ksar Ouled Soltane — fortified communal granaries built by Berber communities to store grain, oil, and valuables in a landscape prone to raids and extreme weather. Each family had their own ghorfa, or storage cell, stacked in multiple levels around a central courtyard, and the architecture — mudbrick and stone, arched doorways, narrow stairways — was both visually striking and impressively functional. Both ksars appeared in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace as the slave quarters of Tatooine, and it was quite difficult not to see them that way, though their long pre-cinematic history as living, working structures was ultimately more interesting. We finished the day at the ruined Berber village of Douiret, clinging dramatically to a canyon wall, and the Mosque of the Seven Sleepers at Chennini, whose caretaker arrived with a great iron key and opened the small prayer space for us with quiet ceremony. Our accommodation was in old Chennini itself, accessible only on foot, and after the long climb to reach it we sat looking out over the darkening desert, too tired to speak much, which felt entirely appropriate.
🏟️ Day 8 — El Jem, the Ribat of Monastir and Arrival in Sousse
We drove for around four hours through olive groves and rolling countryside to reach El Jem, where two sites awaited us. The first was the town’s archaeological museum, home to an impressive collection of Roman mosaics — enormous, intricately detailed works depicting mythology, hunting, and daily life, many still in extraordinary condition after nearly two thousand years. Zied moved us through the galleries at a brisk pace, consulting his watch with increasing frequency, but Karen was not to be hurried past a fine mosaic and paused often to study the detail and take photographs. She also paused to exchange greetings with a group of visiting Tunisian scouts, pose for a photograph, and ask about their badges, which Zied accepted with the patient good humour of a guide who had long since stopped being surprised by her. The second El Jem site was the amphitheatre itself — one of the best-preserved Roman monuments in the world and the largest remaining in Africa. Built between 230 and 240 CE with a capacity of around 30,000 spectators, it is a monumental structure whose stone has aged to a warm sandy hue and whose arcaded tiers rise into the sky with a grandeur that the Colosseum itself would not be ashamed of. Zied led us through passageways, up narrow stairs, out onto viewing platforms, and down into the cool, echoing underground chambers where animals and gladiators once waited. The scale and quality of the engineering were extraordinary, and standing in the arena looking up at the curving tiers of empty seats was one of those experiences that produces a particular, difficult-to-articulate feeling — something between awe and strangeness, at being so small inside something so large and so old.
Our afternoon was dominated by the Ribat of Monastir, and it was remarkable. Built in 796 CE and expanded over the following centuries, it is one of the oldest and most significant Islamic fortresses in North Africa — simultaneously a religious retreat where monks prayed and studied, and a formidable piece of military infrastructure designed to protect the coastline from seaborne attack. The combination of spiritual purpose and defensive practicality gives the building a character quite unlike anything else we visited, a kind of purposeful calm that seems to have settled deep into the stone. We explored the large central courtyard, the arched passageways and ascending stairways, the towers looking out over the sea, and the spaces where soldiers once stood watch and monks once knelt in prayer. During the tour, we invited a sixteen-year-old Turkish girl on a cultural exchange programme to join us — she asked excellent questions and engaged with everything Zied said with impressive seriousness. Karen climbed the main tower despite the narrow, centuries-worn stairs; it was only after she had descended that Zied mentioned the earthquake three years earlier that had caused some structural damage to part of it, which she received with admirable composure. We rounded off the afternoon at the Mausoleum of Habib Bourguiba — a beautifully kept complex of minarets, a golden dome, formal gardens, and quiet interior rooms where the first president of independent Tunisia is buried alongside some of his most ordinary belongings: a desk, a pair of glasses, a few photographs. Zied spoke about Bourguiba with the measured respect of someone who had thought about the man for a long time and arrived at an admiration that was not uncritical, which felt honest. We reached our hotel in Sousse in the early evening, walked down to the beach in the last of the light, and paddled in cold water as two camels passed along the shoreline in silhouette. It was a quietly perfect ending to a very full day.
🌺 Day 9 — The Medina of Sousse, Zriba and Hammamet
We had a gentler start on our final full day, returning to the historic heart of Sousse to explore its UNESCO-listed Medina with Zied one last time. The old city, enclosed by thick defensive walls that have stood since the ninth century, felt genuinely alive — functioning souks humming beneath canopies of stretched fabric, vendors calling out their wares, local shoppers going about their business alongside the occasional tourist, and the whole thing carrying an authenticity that never felt performed. We began near the Ribat of Sousse — a sturdy eighth-century fortress with a slightly more worn character than its counterpart in Monastir but no less significant — before pausing at the Grand Mosque and weaving deeper into the lanes, stopping for strong coffee at a tucked-away café and listening to Zied’s stories about the city’s long, complicated, and thoroughly interesting history. Later in the morning we drove north to the Zriba Berber village, a partially ruined hilltop settlement with sweeping views of the countryside, where we had lunch in a restored Berber home — simple, rustic, deeply satisfying — and took time to wander the abandoned stone houses, many of which still retained something of the daily life that had once filled them. There was a quiet, contemplative beauty to the place, the kind that only comes from a building that has been genuinely lived in over many generations and not restored for any audience in particular.
In the afternoon we reached Hammamet — the so-called Tunisian Riviera — and found it easy to understand the name. The town sits along the coast with a particular ease, its white-walled Medina glowing in the afternoon sun, bougainvillaea trailing over balconies, the sea shimmering just beyond. Zied walked us slowly through the lanes, pointing out details and sharing local history, and the place had a calmness and charm that invited a slower pace than almost anywhere else we had been on the trip. As we approached the mosque at the heart of the Medina, we encountered a funeral in progress — the coffin covered in green cloth, carried solemnly by a line of mourners into the mosque — a quietly moving reminder of the rhythms of ordinary life that continue beneath the surface of any place a visitor passes through. We found ourselves talking, as we walked along the coast, about the possibility of returning to Hammamet for longer — something about its light and stillness made it feel like the kind of place that repays time. Back in Tunis that evening, we checked into the Hotel Belvedere and said our goodbyes to Zied and Yousef in the lobby — a quiet, warm farewell to two people who had made Tunisia feel genuinely accessible, generous, and alive. It was a good ending to a remarkable journey.
🛫 Day 10 — Departure
Our final morning in Tunisia was brief and bittersweet. With bags already packed from the night before, there was little to do but take a last look at the city from the hotel, gather our things, and make our way to Tunis-Carthage Airport for the flight onward. The country had given us an extraordinary ten days — ancient ruins, holy cities, desert camps, salt flats, Star Wars film sets, hidden courtyards, and some of the most generous hospitality either of us had encountered anywhere. As the plane lifted and the white rooftops and green coastal hills of Tunisia fell away beneath us, we were already talking about what we had seen and what we wished we had had more time for. It had been, without question, a trip worth making.
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