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: Sousse’s Ancient Medina Awaits You
🌊 Sun, Sand and Camels at Dusk — A Day on Tunisia’s Coast at Sousse
We pulled into Sousse after a short drive from Monastir — about 22 kilometres, which in Tunisian terms counts as practically next door. The town itself, as we’d discover properly the following morning, has a good deal of life to it. But our hotel was further out, planted firmly in what’s known as the tourist zone — which, if you’ve ever been to one, tells you pretty much everything you need to know.
The place was called the Alhambra Resort. Grand name. And it was grand, in the way that a motorway service station is grand — enormous, functional, and full of people who seem inexplicably cheerful about their surroundings. It was considerably larger and more commercial than the sort of place we’d normally choose. We tend to prefer somewhere with a bit of character, ideally a family-run place where the owner shakes your hand and the towels don’t have a logo on them. The Alhambra was emphatically not that.
Still, we’d arrived late, bags were dropped, and there was only one thing we wanted to do. We made the long walk through the hotel grounds — past the bars, the pools, the entertainments staff who looked dangerously close to organising something — and found the beach.
🏖️ The Beach at Sousse — A Welcome Bit of Soft Sand
The beach, it must be said, was genuinely lovely. Clean, wide, with soft sand that hadn’t been raked into military submission, and a generous expanse of the Mediterranean stretching out ahead of us. We kicked off our shoes like a couple of overexcited children and went for a paddle. The water was cold — bracing, some people call it, though I find “cold” covers it perfectly well — but refreshing in the way that cold water is when you’ve been travelling all day and your feet feel like they belong to someone else.
We didn’t stay long. Just long enough, in fact, to catch sight of a couple passing by on camels, silhouetted against the evening light in a way that felt almost staged. Camels on a beach at dusk — Tunisia being wonderfully, unapologetically itself. It was a fine way to end a long day.
Sousse’s coastline has drawn visitors for a very long time, though it must be said the camels have probably been around longer than the tourists. The city sits on the Gulf of Hammamet, and its beach stretches in a wide arc that the Romans, the Arabs, the Ottomans, and now the European package holiday industry have all, in their own way, appreciated.
🍸 All-Inclusive: A Brief and Slightly Dispiriting Encounter
Back at the hotel, we got a proper look at what we’d signed up for. The Alhambra was an all-inclusive operation, which meant that every few metres there was a buffet or a bar or a pool bar or a swim-up bar, all of them doing a brisk trade with a clientele composed mainly of older European tourists and families in full holiday mode — meaning a level of enthusiasm for unlimited food and drink that was, frankly, impressive to witness.
There was an air of cheerful excess about it all. People loading plates with a determination that suggested they were making up for something. We’re not really all-inclusive people, if I’m honest. There’s something slightly odd about pretending that food and drink don’t have any value because you’ve paid for them upfront. Though I appreciate this is a personal failing on my part.
That said, we did sit down for a couple of gin and tonics. In our defence — and it’s a modest defence — the wine and beer were genuinely awful. The kind of wine that makes you wonder whether grapes were actually involved at all. Under the circumstances, gin seemed not just reasonable but responsible.
We called it a night fairly early. Already thinking about the following day, which we knew would be a good one.
🌅 A Last Morning — Farewell to Zied and Yousef
Having explored the Ribat at Monastir the previous day rather than that morning as originally planned, we had the luxury of a slower start. Breakfast at the Alhambra was quiet — early enough that the all-inclusive crowd hadn’t yet mobilised — and we ate without any great urgency, which made a pleasant change.
It felt, though, a little melancholy. Not the breakfast itself, which was perfectly fine. But the knowledge that this was our last day with Zied, our guide, and Yousef, our driver. They’d been our companions throughout the trip — Zied with his calm, authoritative knowledge of every place we visited, and Yousef keeping us moving reliably from one to the next, seemingly unbothered by whatever the road or the itinerary threw at him. We’d grown accustomed to their company and to the quiet ease of travelling with people who knew exactly where they were going and why. That was all about to end, and one notices these things.
Bags packed, cameras ready. We set off for the old heart of Sousse.
🏛️ Sousse’s Medina — A World Heritage City That Actually Works
Sousse is a city with a long memory. It was founded by the Phoenicians, who called it Hadrumetum, and it went on to become one of the most important cities in Roman North Africa — second in the region only to Carthage, which gives you a sense of its historical weight. It was conquered by the Vandals, then the Byzantines, then the Arab armies of the Umayyad Caliphate in the late 7th century, who rebuilt it substantially. It became a key base for Arab naval operations into the western Mediterranean. The city walls that still encircle the Medina today were largely constructed in that early Islamic period, and they’ve been doing their job ever since.
The Medina was inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, which is the kind of thing that normally makes you slightly nervous — bracing yourself for gift shops and laminated signs and the slightly curated feeling of a place that knows it’s being watched. But Sousse’s Medina, happily, is not really like that. It functions. People live and work here. The streets smell of coffee and spices and occasionally something less identifiable. It’s a real city that happens to also be very old.
Zied led us in through the walls and we began with the Ribat — a different one from Monastir, though the two are related in purpose. The Ribat of Sousse dates to the late 8th century, built as a fortified monastery from which early Muslim warriors could both defend the coast and, between raids, dedicate themselves to prayer. It’s a squat, powerful-looking building with a rounded tower that you can climb for views over the city and the sea. Slightly more worn-looking than the Monastir Ribat, but that suits it. It’s been standing here for over twelve hundred years, so a bit of weathering seems fair enough.
🕌 The Grand Mosque and the Souks — Austerity and Chaos in Equal Measure
Not far from the Ribat stands the Great Mosque of Sousse, which dates from the 9th century and was enlarged over subsequent centuries. It’s a place of austere, deliberate beauty — no minarets, which is unusual, just clean geometric lines and a courtyard of quiet gravity. It was built during the Aghlabid dynasty, the same rulers who commissioned the famous Great Mosque at Kairouan, and there’s a family resemblance in the restraint of the design. It doesn’t try to impress you with grandeur. It impresses you despite itself.
We stopped at a café tucked into one of the alleys — the kind of place with three tables and a man behind a counter who looks as though he’s been making coffee in exactly this manner for forty years and sees no reason to change anything. The coffee was strong. Properly strong. The kind that makes you feel you’ve had an opinion about something. We sat for a bit and watched the alley traffic go by.
Then deeper into the souks. The markets of Sousse’s Medina are organised, loosely, by trade — as they have been since the medieval period, when different crafts and goods occupied distinct quarters of the city. Spices, leather goods, ceramics, metalwork, cloth. Vendors calling out, not aggressively but with the practised persistence of people who’ve been doing this their entire lives. Overhead, lengths of fabric and canvas strung between buildings filtered the sunlight into something gentler. It was hot, getting hotter, and the shade was welcome.
Zied pointed out architectural details as we walked — a carved doorway here, a decorative tilework panel there — and offered context that turned what might otherwise have been a pleasant wander into something more meaningful. A good guide does that. He doesn’t just move you from one place to another. He changes what you see.
What struck us most was the sense that this wasn’t performing for us. The tourists were there, certainly — you couldn’t miss them — but the souks were operating on their own terms, as they always had. The man selling spices was selling them to the woman who lives three streets away as much as to the couple from Leeds. That’s a rarer thing than it ought to be.
🏔️ On the Road to Zriba — Olive Groves and Quiet Roads
From Sousse, Yousef drove us north, heading into the hills toward the Berber village of Zriba. The road climbed gradually, winding through countryside that felt unhurried and largely unchanged — rolling hills, scattered olive groves, small towns sitting quietly beside the road as though they hadn’t been expecting us and were perfectly all right with that.
Tunisia has been producing olive oil for an extremely long time. The Romans planted vast olive estates across North Africa, and the tradition has continued with relatively little interruption ever since. The trees you see along these roads — gnarled, low, silver-leafed — look ancient because many of them are. Some of the oldest olive trees in Tunisia are believed to be over a thousand years old, which puts one’s own sense of age rather into perspective.
Roadside stalls appeared now and then — fruit, pottery, the occasional handmade rug draped over a fence. We didn’t stop, but we slowed to look. Zied talked as we drove, filling in the history of the landscape with the easy authority of someone who’d done it many times but still seemed to find it worth saying.
🪨 Zriba Berber Village — Beautiful, Ruined and Oddly Moving
Zriba sits on a hillside in the Zaghouan governorate, and it is one of those places that gets under your skin without quite announcing its intention to do so.
The village is largely abandoned. The stone houses — built in the Berber tradition, compact and integrated into the hillside as though grown from it — have been empty for decades. Many are in various stages of ruin: roofless rooms open to the sky, walls crumbling back into the rock they came from, doorways that lead nowhere in particular. It’s quiet up here, and the views across the valley and countryside below are wide and genuinely beautiful.
The Berbers — or Amazigh, as they prefer to be called — are the indigenous people of North Africa, present here long before the Phoenicians, the Romans, the Arabs, or anyone else arrived with their various ambitions. Their history in this region stretches back millennia, and places like Zriba are reminders of a way of life that was shaped by the land rather than imposed upon it. The decision to abandon the village — most residents moved to the new settlement of Zriba el-Oula below — happened largely in the latter half of the twentieth century, driven by the practical demands of modern life: schools, jobs, running water, roads.
What remains is melancholy in the best sense. Not grim. Not sad in a distressing way. Just quietly elegiac, as though the village is content to sit here and be what it is — evidence of something real and lived.
We had lunch in a small restaurant inside a restored Berber building. Rustic in the proper sense of the word — stone walls, low ceilings, the smell of woodsmoke and herbs. The food was simple and very good: a vegetarian version of traditional Tunisian dishes, served without ceremony and tasting all the better for it. One of those meals you remember not because it was extraordinary but because everything about the moment was right.
🧭 Reflections
These last couple of days had been another good stretch of the journey. Sousse had delivered more than expected — the Medina alone was worth the stop, and the beach at dusk with two camels ambling past was the sort of thing that lodges itself in the memory whether you want it to or not.
The Alhambra Resort remained, diplomatically speaking, not really our sort of place. But you can’t have everything, and the gin was fine.
Zriba was the surprise. A ruined Berber village on a Tunisian hillside doesn’t sound like much on paper, and it’s not the kind of thing that appears on the cover of a travel brochure. But there was something genuinely affecting about it — the silence, the views, the sense of a life that had been lived there and then quietly set down. Well worth the detour.
Zied and Yousef had been with us throughout our time in Tunisia, and there was still a little more to come with them — which was a reassuring thought. Zied had turned every stop into something more than a sightseeing exercise, and Yousef had kept us moving through it all without complaint or incident. We’d grown comfortable in their company, in the way you do when you’ve been travelling with the same people long enough that the rhythm of the days starts to feel natural.
Planning your visit to Sousse
📍 Location
Sousse sits on the northeastern coast of Tunisia, facing the Mediterranean Sea, approximately 143 kilometres south of the capital, Tunis. It is Tunisia’s third-largest city and serves as the capital of the Sousse governorate. Known affectionately as the “Pearl of the Sahel,” the city combines a UNESCO-listed medieval medina with long sandy beaches, modern resort complexes, and a bustling marina at Port El Kantaoui, located about 10 kilometres to the north.
The city is divided broadly between the historic medina — enclosed by well-preserved 9th-century stone ramparts — and a modern coastal district of wide streets, hotels, and a seafront promenade that stretches northwards along the coast.
✈️ Getting There
The most convenient airport for Sousse is Monastir-Habib Bourguiba International Airport, roughly 20 kilometres to the south, and it handles a substantial volume of charter and package-holiday flights, particularly from the UK and Europe. Enfidha-Hammamet International Airport, approximately 30 kilometres to the northwest, is a further option with regular scheduled services. Both airports offer taxi and shuttle transfers into Sousse. Outside of peak holiday season, it may be necessary to fly into Tunis-Carthage International Airport and travel onward by train or road.
From within Tunisia, Sousse is well connected by rail. The city sits on the main line between Tunis and Sfax, with several daily services in both directions. The train station is conveniently central. Long-distance buses also serve Sousse from most parts of the country, departing from the main bus station (Gare Routière) to the west of the medina. Shared taxis, known as louages, are a faster and popular alternative for intercity travel; the louage station is south of the medina and offers fixed-price seats to destinations including Tunis, Sfax, Monastir, Gabès, and Djerba.
🚌 Getting Around
Within Sousse, the most flexible way to get around is by taxi. Official taxis are yellow and should be metered; always confirm that the meter is running when you set off, or agree on a fare before departure to avoid disputes. Tipping is not obligatory but is appreciated. Be aware that some drivers may attempt to use an alternative “special rate” on the meter, particularly on tourist routes, so it is worth knowing approximate fares in advance.
Louages — large shared cars or minibuses — also operate within the wider Sousse area and are widely used by locals. They depart once full and are significantly cheaper than private taxis.
For the route between Sousse city centre, the hotel zone at Hammam Sousse, and Port El Kantaoui, a tourist road train runs along the coast and is a convenient, if unhurried, way to travel between these areas. Alternatively, car hire is available and gives the freedom to explore the surrounding region, including the El Djem Amphitheatre and Kairouan, though road quality can vary outside urban areas.
🏛️ What to See and Do
The medina of Sousse is the obvious starting point for any visit. Designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site, it is enclosed by nearly a kilometre of imposing crenellated stone ramparts dating from the 9th century. Inside, narrow cobbled alleys wind past carved doorways, domed ceilings, ancient mosques, and traditional souks where you can browse leather goods, pottery, spices, jewellery, and textiles. Merchants are often persistent but rarely aggressive, and good-natured bargaining is very much part of the experience.
The Ribat of Sousse, just off the central square of Place Farhat Hached, is one of the finest surviving examples of early Islamic military architecture in North Africa. Built in the late 8th and early 9th centuries, it served as a fortified monastery for warrior-ascetics guarding the coastline. Visitors can explore its austere interior and climb the watchtower — the Nador — for sweeping panoramic views across the medina rooftops, the sea, and the Great Mosque courtyard below.
The Great Mosque, one of Sousse’s most important landmarks, dates from 850 AD and resembles a fortress more than a conventional mosque, with massive towers and no traditional minaret. Non-Muslims may enter certain areas but are not permitted in the prayer hall, and the mosque is closed to visitors on Fridays.
At the top of the medina, the Kasbah houses the Sousse Archaeological Museum, which contains one of the finest collections of Roman mosaics in Tunisia. Highlights include depictions of Neptune, the Head of Medusa, chariot scenes, and wild animals. The museum also displays Punic artefacts, statues, and objects from early Christian catacombs in the region. Climbing to the Kasbah’s upper platform rewards visitors with outstanding views over the city and sea.
The catacombs of Sousse, a vast early Christian burial network beneath the city, are among the largest in the world and make a fascinating detour for those with an interest in ancient history.
Port El Kantaoui, to the north, is a purpose-built marina and resort complex with boutiques, restaurants, cafés, and water sports facilities. It has a markedly different character from the medina — more polished and tourist-oriented — but is pleasant for an evening stroll along the waterfront.
Sousse’s beaches are long and sandy, with calm Mediterranean waters. The main city beach is popular with both locals and visitors and is well served by nearby hotels and restaurants. Water sports including jet skiing, windsurfing, snorkelling, and pedalo hire are widely available, particularly at Port El Kantaoui.
For day trips from Sousse, the Roman amphitheatre at El Djem — one of the largest in the world and extraordinarily well preserved — lies about 60 kilometres to the south and is well worth the journey. Kairouan, one of the holiest cities in Islam and home to the Great Mosque of Kairouan, is around 60 kilometres to the west and offers a remarkable glimpse into Tunisia’s Islamic heritage.
🕌 Culture and Local Customs
Tunisia is a Muslim-majority country, and Islam shapes much of daily life, social etiquette, and the local calendar. Sousse, as a major coastal resort city, is more cosmopolitan and accustomed to international visitors than many other parts of the country, but this does not mean that normal social courtesies and cultural sensitivity should be set aside.
Dress modestly when outside beach and resort zones. On the beaches and within hotel complexes, swimwear is entirely acceptable. However, when walking in the medina, visiting religious sites, or moving through residential areas, both men and women should cover their shoulders and knees. Women entering mosques are expected to cover their hair with a scarf, and shoes must be removed at the entrance. Men should also avoid shorts in mosques. At the Great Mosque of Sousse, non-Muslim visitors should note that the prayer hall is strictly off-limits.
If your visit coincides with Ramadan, be aware that many locals fast from dawn to dusk. During this period, eating, drinking, smoking, or chewing gum in public during daylight hours can cause genuine offence and may attract official attention, particularly away from hotels and resort areas. Restaurants may operate reduced hours or close entirely during the day, though hotel dining rooms generally remain open for tourists. Alcohol availability is also more restricted during Ramadan. Evenings during Ramadan, by contrast, are lively and celebratory, and sharing in the Iftar atmosphere can be a memorable experience.
Public displays of affection are considered inappropriate and should be avoided. This applies to couples of any kind. Greetings are important socially; a polite acknowledgement goes a long way, and Tunisians are known for their warmth and hospitality. If invited into a home or offered tea or coffee in a shop, it is customary to accept, and doing so is seen as respectful and friendly.
The best time to visit Tunisia
🌸 Spring (March–May): Mild weather and wildflowers
Spring is one of the loveliest seasons to visit Tunisia. Temperatures are comfortably warm rather than hot, landscapes are green after winter rains, and wildflowers bloom across the countryside. It’s an excellent time for sightseeing in cities and archaeological sites, as well as for exploring the Sahara’s edge before the intense summer heat arrives. Tourist numbers are moderate, so attractions feel lively but not overcrowded.
What to pack:
Light layers (long-sleeved tops for cooler evenings)
Comfortable walking shoes
A light jacket or cardigan
Sunglasses and sunscreen
☀️ Summer (June–August): Beach weather and festivals
Summer in Tunisia is hot, especially inland and in the south, where desert temperatures can be extreme. Coastal areas are more comfortable thanks to sea breezes, making this the best season for beach holidays and water sports. This is also when many local festivals and events take place. Expect higher humidity along the coast and busier resorts, particularly in July and August.
What to pack:
Very lightweight, breathable clothing
Swimwear and beach sandals
Wide-brimmed hat
High-SPF sunscreen
Refillable water bottle
🍂 Autumn (September–November): Warm seas and fewer crowds
Autumn is another excellent time to visit. The intense summer heat fades, but the sea remains warm, making September and October ideal for combining sightseeing with swimming. Vineyards and olive groves are active with harvests, adding to the atmosphere. Crowds thin out after August, and prices often drop slightly.
What to pack:
Light clothing with a few warmer layers
Comfortable shoes for exploring
Swimwear (especially in early autumn)
Light scarf for evenings
❄️ Winter (December–February): Cool, quiet, and cultural
Winter is the quietest season for tourism. Northern regions can be cool and rainy, while the south stays relatively mild and dry. This is a good time for cultural trips, city breaks, and desert tours without the heat. Beach swimming is less appealing, but the calmer pace offers a more local feel.
What to pack:
Jumper or fleece
Waterproof jacket
Long trousers
Closed shoes
A scarf for cooler evenings
📊 Summary: Best time to visit Tunisia by season
| Season | Weather | Crowds | Best for |
|---|---|---|---|
| Spring (Mar–May) | Mild, sunny | Moderate | Sightseeing, nature, desert trips |
| Summer (Jun–Aug) | Very hot inland, warm coast | High | Beaches, festivals |
| Autumn (Sep–Nov) | Warm, pleasant | Low–moderate | Swimming, sightseeing |
| Winter (Dec–Feb) | Cool north, mild south | Low | Culture, desert tours |
⭐ Overall best time to visit Tunisia
Overall, spring (March–May) and autumn (September–October) are the best times to visit Tunisia. These seasons strike the perfect balance between pleasant temperatures, manageable crowds, and flexibility to enjoy beaches, historical sites, and desert landscapes without the extremes of summer heat or winter chill.
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