Start at BIZERTE End at MATEUR
Day dist: 39.8 kms
Riding time: 2:12
Avg speed: 18.5
Max speed: 29.9
Beg day odo: 744.6 kms
End day odo: 784.3 kms
In the early morning, as I was sleeping, I thought I heard the sound of rain and I remember making contingency plans regarding my course of action if it did rain when I got up. I remember deciding to stay in Bizerte for most of the day and then taking the bus back to Tunis. To my surprise, when I got up (9:30) and opened the window I saw a glorious day. Rain must have been in my dreams. However when later I went out the ground was wet and it had actually rained. So what, what difference would that make? Whatever the case may have been, the sky was clear now.
I took my stuff downstairs, left them at the lobby, and went out for a walk to take a good look at the town in daylight and w/o riots.
The street of “Hotel De La Plage”
I walked towards the sea
The corniche
Then I walked to the city center
As I started walking back I saw an open souq and walked into. It is always a pleasure walking in souqs.
A guy that was walking next to me spoke to me in good French saying hi and asking whether I was headed towards the madina. “Here we go again” I said to myself. I answered him and he went on chatting. We walked towards the natural port in front of the Madina
The guy looked descend but I do not trust anybody anymore. I decided to have some fun and I invited him for a cup of coffee. He pointed at a coffee shop near the water and this is where we went. He was rather educated he also spoke German and English. The topic of his conversation was general but also tried to bring it to specifics, like the high unemployment and how that affected him, etc.. I guess this would be the right point to ask for monetary help from me. I took control of the conversation and kept talking about general things regarding Africa, Europe, the unemployment in the US, etc. When it was time to go I told him that I had to leave because my ride could not wait. He got up w/ me and walked through that open souq again
at the end of the street where we would each go his own direction he asked for money. I gave him my best wishes but no money.
Walked back to the hotel
Tunisian puppies
At 12:15 I was ready and hit the road. I was headed for Mateur, which was 40 kms away and I had decided that this would be the last stop of the trip. I opted not continue for Sajanan (another 40 kms) for two reasons. As I did not have my passport with, I was a bit nervous and wanted to return to Tunis asap and second I was told that Sajanan was a nowhereville and I was afraid that I might not find the transport I needed to go back to Tunis at the time I needed it, and my departure date was drawing near.
In the meantime the clouds had gathered again and raindrops were falling as I was leaving. I hesitated for a moment “should I stay or should I go?” You all know that the answer to this is “if I stay there will be trouble if I go it will be double!!!” I opted for more trouble and braved the rain. As I rode, however, the rain started falling hard and I had to stop at a gas station to take cover. I waited for a while and when it subsided I went on. Needless to say that after a while it started again and this time there was no place to take cover, so I did all I could, that is, I rode on in the rain and started praying aloud to the god of rain to go away. I guess my prayers were the right ones because after half an hour the rain stopped and the sun came out.
The pipeline
The road
Lunch break
Once more the clouds were heavy and I could sense another round of rain approaching. In addition I had to fight against another enemy, a very strong wind. The rain kept coming and going, they wind was steady.
The never ending road
The last 7 kms I biked under the worst possible element combination, heavy rain and strong wind in my face. The odometer stopped working, probably the rain water had short circuited it. I arrived at Mateur a little before 15:00 and as I was heading for what appeared to be the town center I saw two guys carrying their suitcases. They looked ready to travel possibly to Tunis. I stopped and asked them and they told me that there was a train for Tunis at 15:10. That info changed my plans. I rushed to the town center
main street
and then speedily biked to the train station. I really did not want to have to spend the night there, especially w/o a passport.
Train station
I got on the last wagon w/ Spithas. The conductor and a sympathetic guy in his early twenties were there. The conductor kept repeated several times that I would have to pay for Spithas too and each time he said it I said “I know.” So I paid for both. The total was less than $5. He charged Spithas the same price he charged me. Verify the following on the internet: chimpanzees in New Zealand and in Spain have been given human rights!!!! The above evidence suggests that Tunisians are more advanced in that area, even bikes are considered equals and charged like humans. The other thought that crossed my mind was that I’ve always paid for both Spithas and I and Spithas he has never even bothered to pay once. But I guess this is how life is.
Spithas and I on the train
the never ending rails
The conductor left and the young guy stayed. His job was to turn the switch that controlled the doors on and off as we the train entered/left a station. Soon I learned how to flip the switch and since I was standing near it, he did not even have to do that either. We chatted and he was very pleasant. He pointed at one window that was broken and said that this happens all the time because kids at the stations throw rocks at the train when it leaves the station. Sure enough in the next couple of stations, kids honored the tradition and threw rocks at us. Fortunately none of them broke any windows this time. You should have been there to see the guy taking cover when the kids threw rocks and then going to the window and curse at the kids, as the train was leaving.
In about one hour we were at the terminal stop at Tunis
This likable guy did not let me leave but escorted me and Spithas to pay for Spithas’ fare. When I protested that I had already paid he mumbled something that I only paid for my fare and that normally bikes are not allowed on the train and this is why I was only given one receipt for me and not for Spithas. No big deal, another $4 did the trick and I got a receipt this time. I was not in the mood for putting up a fight. I suppose the first Spithas fare went into the conductor’s pocket.
I headed for “home,” that is, Hotel Salammbo, which was a few blocks away. I took a shower, changed and then went out to grab a bite and then to a publinet.
CARTAGO DELENDA EST
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