In one case before 2000, this transition won’t be soon enough for one of our bicyclists, who, with some irony, the rider turned to look at a first aid kit that had fallen from his pack.  He fishtailed and went for a slide. After getting washed-up, slathered in antibiotics and wrapped in gauze, he finished the days ride. But the wound warranted a closer look so we took a side trips into Medenine to learn about the health care delivery system. The Tunisian physicians assistant at the hospital who scrubbed him up had been in Saudi Arabia during the Gulf War and was more than happy to have a opportunity to practice his English.

Even with the recent developments it is still a great ride. The road, though in a mountainous area, only has a couple of longer climbs. It is designed to accommodate tourist bus so it picks its way carefully, winding through the mountains and over the mesas. Along the ways you can see the occasional additional ksours on a distant hill tops or mesa.

One of the more striking phenomena in the generally multiple shades of beige and olive drab landscape is the local women’s preference for dress of red cloth. Throughout the area, near and far, amongst the mottled hills were women walking or tending livestock in their bold, bright red dress.

What was the old track and is now the new highway, ends in Beni Khedache.  It is always with some surprise that we couldn’t find a restaurant there.  But if you continued a couple of kilometers up a long grade to the ridge there is a tourist restaurant overlooking town.  Beni Khedache is not a small town and has an active market so even after asking around, it is a bit of a mystery that we can't find any kind of restaurant.  The usual conclusion is that everyone eats at home so there must not be a market for prepared food among the locals.  The ridge top restaurant has a magnificent vista. We cooled our heels for a while with a long lunch since our destination was just a couple kilometers away -- and mostly downhill.

In the next valley, there is cozy, semi-traditional, troglodyte-type dwelling reconfigured as tourist accommodations to be found in Zammour.  (The area is named after the dominant local family name,  but it also means "olive" in the Berber language,)  The rooms at the inn are caves carved into the hillside that very effectively shutout the outside world -- very womb-like.  Unless you are cloister phobic they are very calm and tranquil.  The accommodations come with western-style toilets and hot water  showers, but they are shared and separate modern block building out in the yard.

The next valley is the Hallouf valley,  It has some historical significance because this is the route that Gen. Montgomery and the British 8th Army used in WWII to flank the Axis defensive positions, known as the Mareth Line, in early 1943.  The Mareth Line had stalled the Allies' advance for four months.  It is a complex, which stretched from the coast into the nearby mountains, consisted of anti-tank mine, anti-personnel mine fields, barb wire lines, bunkers, anti-aircraft, artillery, tanks, stretching from the sea to the mountains. Rommel's bunker. Now-a-days it is much more tranquil and must have more water in it than meets the eye. Tuck behind jassours on the valley floor were some nice lush gardens of leafy vegetables - clearly irrigated.