Tunisia Odyssey: Historic North
Bicycle Africa / Ibike Tours
Dispatch 6 - Ain Draham
Our
ride today was short on miles, but the altitude gain was significant,
something between 730 and 900 meters depending on the source.
The
first fourteen kilometers was very slightly inclined as we headed out of
town toward the
southwest. We even had a slight tailwind and made good time.
We passed a cork factory with row after row of six foot long segments of
cork oak bark piled in stacks ten feet tall by about six feet wide, maybe
120 of them. Although we passed a lot of cork trees yesterday and rode
through a cork oak forest a good portion of today, we have yet to see any
freshly
cut trees, though most trees have had their bark harvested sometime in the
distant past. Theoretically, the bark can be harvested every five or
six years. None of the trees have been numbered to indicate the year
of harvest as is common in Spain and Portugal.
After
crossing a river we turned more definitively uphill, the road climbed
unrelentingly. This continued for the next sixteen kilometers, with steeper
sections requiring a granny
gear
interspersed
with less steep sections. The views off mountain were of
deepening mountain valleys covered primarily in gnarled cork oak trees and
the view up mountain was the same
only closer to hand. The light, diffused by
the cloud layer and coming from
the east, was not good for capturing the grand vistas. At one point you could see all the way back to
Tabarka. The weather favored a climb with the
sun’s head dissipated,
reflected, and/or
absorbed by the cloud layer so it was rather cool. A fresh
breeze often reached us, sometimes in gusts that, if caught unaware could
destabilize you at such low speeds. On warmer days, the spring along
the way offer great opportunities to replenish water bottle with sweet
crystal clear water. We were glad there were so many trees and twists
and turns so we weren’t feeling the full impact of the wind which was
certainly blowing hard somewhere. As it was, it kept us cool and relatively
dry throughout the ride.
After
ten kilometers of climbing, our guide had us pull over at a café in Babouch, the only
intervening village. It was a nice rest with good thé and
café au lait. Interestingly, the café staff did not speak French and did
not understand the term café au lait, a first on our trip. As French
is the national language (though often not the local’s first language), I
suspect it is required in school. However, our guide told us that urbane
Tunisians consider this part of Tunisia their boondocks. The people
here have a reputation for resistance to the government’s intrusions in
their lives.
Tunisian
thé, as mentioned before, is very strong, very sweet, and is served
in a small glass. Beyond these two dimensions, the local variations are
many. However, in the hotels serving primarily tourists where we’ve stayed,
tea is almost always a Lipton teabag in a cup with sugar on the side – a
very poor substitute for the local brew.
Babouch is a mere
three kilometers from the Algerian border and a long view to the west
certainly reaches that country. One of our group noted a news clip on the
internet that al Qaeda had attacked there since we’ve been in Tunisia …
innocence shattered by the Internet and realty comes barging in. Actually,
our guide had suggested that one reason the police might be keeping tabs on
foreigners here is because of our proximity to Algeria. Speaking of the
police, an escort did pick us up as we left town this morning and followed
us to our thé stop.
When we first sat down, the clouds coming our way looked as if they might carry rain, but the sky lightened while we chatted so we set out again. The next five kilometers were a repeat of the last ten and we geared down and cranked them out. The scenery stayed about the same except from a higher perspective. The forests are very open, whether naturally so or because cork oak has been substituted for the natural climax forest I don’t know. Regardless, though it seems wild enough, I have a hard time imagining lion and leopard prowling here, let alone the wild boar which is reportedly still hunted hereabouts (though mostly hunted to extinction in the 1960's and '70's). Perhaps the forest along the road is accessible and has therefore been cleared whereas the deeper woods are thicker. The way the forests seem to go on and on indicates there must certainly be lots of less accessible, wilder forest.
Just
before reaching Ain Draham we passed a guy shoveling fine sand into two
large sacks on the back of a donkey, still a major laborer in both the north
and south. Though it must have been a heavy load, the donkey seemed
unconcerned as it pulled leaves from a nearby bush. The sand itself is worth
a remark. We see it piled everywhere. It is very fine and yesterday we saw a
man pouring it through a large sieve to make it more so. We’ve seen it used
as filler for sidewalk cracks and used in handmade cement.
Ain
Draham is a hilltop retreat developed by the French ostensively as a summer
resort and escape from hotter climates. The village with its many red roofs has a distinctly French
look. It lies on the flank of t
he
Kroumirie Mountain’s highest peak, Jebel Biri, at 1,014 m (3,327 ft). The
strange object gracing the roundabout
of its main intersection took us
awhile to decipher. After a sometimes funny debate, we finally decided it
was a stylized cork oak winding about itself more like a vine (symbolizes
ivy growing on an oak tree) with part of
the bark stripped off – it was the oak leaves that tipped us off.
After
lunch, those who were interested took a hike through the forest, but staying
on paved
surfaces throughout. The forest paths looked wet from the rain and we
decided that caution was the better part of valor. It was a pleasant walk;
most in forest with occasional vista and homesteads offering a window into
local lifestyles.
In
route back to the hotel, with a little detective work, we found the women's
weaving cooperative. The women were active carding and spinning wool
into yarn, and weaving
several styles of carpet. They were happy
to demonstrate their work
for the camera and for those who are interested they have a
showroom/boutique, where they are happy to sell the finished product.
Before supper a couple of us walked to the Internet and had yet another instance where the guy at the next computer told us “Americans good! Bush bad!”, with the appropriate inflection and thumbs up/thumbs down gestures.
Supper
at the hotel consisted of hot soup, a briq, chicken couscous royal, and
strawberries for dessert. In keeping with the area’s sporting history of the area and the hotel,
two
large boar hides with heads hang on the wall. Although the tourist literature still mentions boar hunting in the
Khroumirie Mountains, a conversations with the lodge keeper would suggest that they are mostly hunted out. You
best chance to see a boar then is in the lobby of the Beau Sejour Hotel.
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