We disembarked in Bir Bou Rigba, the closest station to Hammamet, so we could cycle around the much more verdant Cap Bon before we returned to Tunis.

On this day, hundreds of miles away from the arid south, as we started to cycle in a heavy mist, we couldn’t see very much but there was definitely a whole new set of smells: orange blossoms, jasmine, onions and the sea. Oh yes, there was still an olive trees and an olive press in every town and their characteristic pungent smell.  At most immediately you can begin see why Carthage counted on Cap Bon for its fruit and vegetable supply.

Within a few kilometers of leaving the station we entered to outskirts of seaside Hammamet, Tunisia's oldest tourism destination town -- primarily known for its beautiful fine sand beach.  Though the town dates back at least as far as the Punic and Roman eras and has a picture perfect "restored" 15th century kasbah -- it probably never looked so perfect and pristine during its working life.  The kasbah has now been converted to commercial space. Iinside it is a tourist market gone wild.  Just inside the door you encountered a luggage vendor followed by stall after stall after stall of goods right down the line. It is a caricature of mall and we quickly backed out.

There is little in this part of town to signal that you are in Tunisia, except for the names of the banks.  Upscale tourism has now engulfed the town and everything for 10 kilometers in each direction along the coast.  There are several dozen mega hotels in the area, and twice as many again medium and small hotels.  The dominant restaurant is the pizzeria.  Even though there are dozens of cafes, the quintessential institution of all Tunisia towns, the setup, clientele, dress and activity in the cafe is distinctly manicured European, not Tunisia.  Even most of the Tunisians were dress far less conservatively than we have become comfortable with in the south.  Some of the young men were dressed caricatured hip-hop hip.

More recent tourism development in Tunisia seems to have tried to keep the fortress hotels away from the pre-existing town centers -- somewhat curtailing their cultural collapse.

As Hammamet started to fill with hotels, the same process was started in Nabuel, 15 kilometers east.  Fortunately, the Nabuel medina (old town), and souk (market) are away from the coast and the sun-and-sand palaces and retains some of its architectural and cultural flavor.  But Nabuel now has more than a dozen fortress hotels of its own, and the rapid urban sprawl of both towns has merge them into one strip city.  Nabuel dates back to the Roman era as well, but much of its economy and character dates back to the early 1600, when some Jewish and Muslim Moorish artisans fleeing the Spanish Inquisition land here and set-up shop.  Nabuel is known for its pottery, jewelry, stone carvers and other artisans.  There are streets lined with stone carvers, and other streets lined with jewelers.

In Nabeul, the main commercial  street has been converted into a pedestrian arcade.  It doesn't seem to have hurt business because it is packed with people during the day and stays active into the night, long after the last tourist has retreated to within the walls of their hotel complex.

Cap Bon has a number of fish restaurants. It is the practice to show customers the days selection of fish on a platter. If you are fortunate, the maitre d' will personally demonstrate the squid.  If you select a fish, expect it to return to the table fully cooked, with the head on and intact.

An interesting observation made by our traveling companion Ralph, is that the numerals we use are Arabic in origin but they don't seem to match Arabic. When you see numerals in the text of a Tunisian Arabic newspaper, you see the "foreign" Arabic script (written right to left) suddenly punctuated by the very familiar numerals one through nine (written left to right) -- it is very jarring. In an addresses for instance, the street name, city and country are in Arabic, written from right to left and the building numbers are inserted, in a non-matching font, written from left to right -- just the opposite. As it happens, things aren’t always so straightforward: While our numerals are in fact derived from the Arabic numerals, they just barely resemble them now. If you look at the Arabic from Saudi Arabia for instance, you would not see our Arabic-derived numerals and the true Arabic numerals used would be written right to left just like their letters. But in Tunisia, they made the conscious decision to stick with the French numerals instead of reverting to the true Arabic because of the long French influence, so they write the numerals from left to right while they write the text right to left. All very confusing.

On one trip, perhaps because it was Friday night train, or just after Eid, the train filled-up. Even though we were traveling first class and the seats are well cushioned and tip well back, it was less than a fully restful nights sleep. I was half out of it but there seemed to be some boisterous young people and periodic hubbubs about who belonged in first class.