Another work day for Kit meant another day trip for me. I was off to the city of El Djem, which in Roman times was known as Thysdrus.
Before we parted ways, I took a pic of Kit in the hotel lobby as she waited for her ride to work:
I then went to the louage (shared taxi/mini van) station in Tunis and three hours later found myself staring at the remains of the largest Roman monument in Africa; second in grandiosity only to the Colosseum in Rome:
A view out to the modern day city:
The seating area was rebuilt and is used to host cultural events:
My solo traveler self portraits...
Under the floor of the arena is where participants (e.g. wild animals, gladiators, prisoners) would be held until they were due to perform (i.e. die)...
Oh, how the world has grown - I'm 5 7" and wasn't far from the ceiling:
Tunnel underneath the arena:
Proof that parents with oversized strollers can be inconsiderate everywhere. Every tourist would wait for people to clear out so they could take a pic of the arena . Sometimes this would take several minutes, as this is obviously a very popular destination. With a little patience, it would eventually clear out and everyone in the upper levels would start snapping away. However, arena photo sessions came to a halt when a French couple decided the middle of the arena was a perfect parking spot for their kid's stroller (so they could keep an eye on it) while they went to explore the upper levels of the colosseum. This did not go over well.
After fifteen minutes of waiting for them to return and move the damn thing, I made my way down and explained the situation to one of the colosseum's employees. Since he spoke no English I only know three words in Arabic and three more in French, I proceeded to explain the aggravation the stroller was causing trough pantomime. Thus began a surreal game of charades with a Tunisian in 105 degree heat while at the entrance of a two thousand year old Roman colosseum. He didn't understand anything, and it didn't help that the only word I incessantly repeated was "enfant" as I pretended to push something. Perhaps he thought I wanted to know where I could go pick a fight with a child.
Luckily, within fifteen seconds of observing me, his much more perceptive co-worker worker ran off to move the stroller. The best part, as soon as he started hauling it away the French couple apparated on the highest floor of the colosseum and yelled out in alarm to what to them could only be someone making off with little Pierre's wheels. Unfortunately, the colosseum employee heard them yelling and replied he was only moving it out of sight. Oh, what I would have given for him to continue walking away in silence. I'm sure I would have been treated to the awesome spectacle of the French couple and their brood hurriedly trying to navigate floor after of steep stairwell.
And yet again solo traveler self portraits.
Once I left the colosseum I went to the colosseum's museum, which is on the same grounds as some Roman Villas that have been excavated. Here is a mosaic hanging on the wall of the colosseum museum...
The mosaic below is on the floor of a room in the villa seen in the photo underneath...
Upon returning to Tunis I was quite hungry, and Kit (after a long day at work) was incredibly sweet and accompanied me to look for a place to eat. Little did we know the Arab Champions League final was being played that night between a team from Tunisia (Esperance Sportive de Tunis) and one from Morocco. There were crowds everywhere, as you can see, but luckily the home team prevailed and people went off to celebrate - there was a lot of flag waving and horn honking that night:
Kit took me to a place where her co-workers treated her to a typical Tunisian dish for her birthday. The dish is called lablabi and it's a delicious soup made with bread (which the diner tears apart himself and places in a bowl) chickpeas, a soft boiled egg, capers, olives, harissa (hot sauce), olive oil, cumin and other assorted ingredients which are added by the cook after you hand him your bowl...
Me and my lablabi!
Lablabi - don't knock it 'till you try it:
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