Streets of Sousse

Sousse, Tunisia was my introduction to Africa. Of course I knew I was just dipping my toe into what is a vast and incredibly diverse continent. The blue and white paint and the sandy beaches could sit comfortably in Mediterranean Europe and the mosques and winding streets of the Medina would be at home in the Middle East. But for the first time  in my life my feet were on African soil and I loved it.

After an exhausting school term and and a long winter of grey skies, it would have been tempting to spend the entire holiday soaking up the sun and listening to the crash of waves on the beach while reading good books. But the winding streets of  the Medina of Sousse were also calling out to be explored.

I have a love/hate relationship with my camera. Looking back at these photographs I am grateful I had it and could preserve the memories from a trip that ended way too quickly. But as I wandered the streets I desperately wanted to throw it aside, to be unencumbered, to blend in, to breath in the history, to belong – even just for a moment – on the ancient cobbled stones under my feet.

 

6 thoughts on “Streets of Sousse

  1. In the summer of 1971, I studied Arabic at the Bourguiba Institute in Tunis. To pass the weekends I would take the train to Sousse, and lounge on the beaches. They were filled with Europeans. Overnight I would take a room in some run down placin the Medina. I remember those hot sands and parasols. Today the wind chills are 25 to 35 below zero and shore ice covers what would be the beach. When it is very cold, you can sometimes hear the tinkling as new thin plates slide into each other and crack.

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