I am clean and scrubbed pink like a baby. Today was a pretty magical day. I woke up and had breakfast and got ready to go to the beach. It was 97 degrees when we left at 10:30 in the morning. The wind was hot, the street radiated heat and the white houses and apartments were shimmering. We went down to the train station and climbed in the old commuter train. It was not air conditioned and it was packed. The windows were open, but sitting in the station it was stifling. Out exposed flesh stuck to the old pleather seats and peeled away with a sound similar to wet velcro. Just sitting sweat was dripping down my chest and condensing on my brow. It was hot. Finally the train pulled away and began lumbering on towards Monastir. The feeble breeze blowing through the windows was enough to stop the excessive perspiration. It was pleasant enough to drift to sleep.
Once in Monastir we headed to our two favorite spots. The first is an old Roman port where you can enter the water where ships used to be landed. Ruins surround the jagged rocks and are carved into them. The place is rowdy with Tunisian teenage boys, each trying to do more impressive tricks than their buddies as the run and dive into the water. After swimming at the port, we continued out the length of the rocky point that juts into the Mediterranean. We circled to the end where there is a natural cove with cliffs where there were older boys jumping. The cliffs range from 22-35 feet, with different places to jump. The water was clear and turquoise blue, and so transparent we could see to the bottom. We spent about an hour hurling ourselves of cliffs into the cool seawater and scrambling back up the cliffs to do it again. Eventually the police chased us all away because it was 'too dangerous' so we moved around the point to lower rocks where we could just hop in the water and swim. We swam out about 100 yards from the rocky shore where the water turned midnight blue. We floated on our backs talking about everything and nothing and soaking in the sunny day, the hot air, cold water and blue sky. Then we spotted a jellyfish and decided it was time to get closer to shore. We met a young man on a boat who let us aboard, then offered to let us dive off the bow of the boat. Tunisians are so welcoming and generous, it never ceases to amaze me. After swimming back to shore we decided to get out. We had a snack back in the town center and then headed back to the train to come to Sousse. Fortunately the newer, air-conditioned train came to take us back, saving us from the now 105 degree weather.
Once back in Sousse we lounged and then had a light dinner and decided to go to the Bain Maure, or the traditional Moorish bathhouse. We walked into an old adobe building. On the inside it was richly carpeted, decorated with comfortable lounge chairs for after the baths and a series of carpeted rooms for resting. We changed our clothes and put on swimsuits (nakedness is a no go here). We entered the steamy bath through a heavy metal door and I had no idea what to expect.
The floor was tiled and the roof was a series of low domes with arched entryways. It was hot and steamy and there was a huge slab of hot marble in the middle of the biggest room. The larger room was lined with private stalls for bathing after getting a scrub down. Bilel and I made our way to the smallest, hottest steam chamber where we sat and sweat with our feet in hot water for about 30 minutes. We talked and I marveled at the network of steam pipes and faucets and heating units and tiled benches that lined the walls of the rooms. It was echoey and dripping and flowing water rang off the walls. The walls were all white and bare lightbulbs hung down from the ceilngs. We got progressively sweatier and eventually Bilel went and called for the scrubber to come. Bilel was first, and I left him o be scrubbed while I sat in the back room, sweating out every toxin that ever entered my body. Then it was my turn.
The man who scrubbed me down was about 5'6" and very squat. He was wearing a swimsuit and nothing else and didn't speak any French. He indicated that I should sit on the marble slab. I did. He then, with a booming SLAP hit the marble slab, indicating I should lay down. I complied. He began beating on my chest and massaging my pecs and my abs. He then proceed to yank my leg across my body, throw himself on top of me and CRRAAACKKK my back popped in about 40 places. This was then repeated with the other leg and both arms. At first I felt a bit shocked by this squat, sweaty tunisian man climbing on my like a slippery jungle gym, but I decided to go with the flow. He continued to massage my chest then SLAP! Hit my sternum. Time to turn over. He climbed on my back to pop it, yanked my now warm and compliant shoulder in odd directions and his sweaty knee might have slid across my neck. I am not sure but I was certainly relaxed, and much more comfortable than I would have expected given the amount of sweaty man flesh on me. SLAP on my lower back and it was time to sit up.
He put on an exfoliating glove and began to scrub my lower back, mid back then neck and shoulders with the force of a belt sander. SLAP on the marble and I laid down and he scrubbed my shoulders and arms and hands. Then my chest and my stomach. He jabbed at my stomach fat and said. Birra (beer). I nodded because it was easier. He then leaned into my face and shouted BOITE (night club). I again nodded because it was easier. RUSSKY (this was a statement shouted at me, not a question). AMERICA I shouted back. The shouting came as a consequence of the echoing water. He then scooted behind me like we might spoon slapped the marble and shoved my head. I ended up with my head on his calf as he scrubbed my neck and sunburned shoulders. Then moved to the other side. THWACK he hit the back of my head and I sat up. He then moved the belt sander hand cloth and scrubbed down my legs. I was thoroughly sweaty and gazing longingly at the shower head in front of me, away from the hot marble. After my legs he scrubbed my feet (heaven). SLAP he hit my back and yelled DOUCHE! It was time to shower off. The whole scrub down and massage must have lasted 15 minutes. The water in the shower was blessedly cool, and after the scrubbing my skin was baby soft. I then transferred to the private stall next to Bilel's stall and I was able to shower in blessedly cool water with soap, shampoo and conditioner. I toweled off and headed back out to the relax rooms. After the steam room the still 93 degree air felt cool and dry.
We laid on the chaises longues in our towels and cooled off and they brought us bottled water. Eventually we got dressed and paid (a total of 5 Dinar or about $3.50) and headed out into the steamy night. I felt refreshed, exhausted and scrubbed clean. I will definitely have to go back to the Bain Maure. Plus, if you need to get over body image issues, have a squat sweaty man scrub you down and repeatedly slap various parts of your body in front of a bunch of other dudes. Clears it right up.
Once in Monastir we headed to our two favorite spots. The first is an old Roman port where you can enter the water where ships used to be landed. Ruins surround the jagged rocks and are carved into them. The place is rowdy with Tunisian teenage boys, each trying to do more impressive tricks than their buddies as the run and dive into the water. After swimming at the port, we continued out the length of the rocky point that juts into the Mediterranean. We circled to the end where there is a natural cove with cliffs where there were older boys jumping. The cliffs range from 22-35 feet, with different places to jump. The water was clear and turquoise blue, and so transparent we could see to the bottom. We spent about an hour hurling ourselves of cliffs into the cool seawater and scrambling back up the cliffs to do it again. Eventually the police chased us all away because it was 'too dangerous' so we moved around the point to lower rocks where we could just hop in the water and swim. We swam out about 100 yards from the rocky shore where the water turned midnight blue. We floated on our backs talking about everything and nothing and soaking in the sunny day, the hot air, cold water and blue sky. Then we spotted a jellyfish and decided it was time to get closer to shore. We met a young man on a boat who let us aboard, then offered to let us dive off the bow of the boat. Tunisians are so welcoming and generous, it never ceases to amaze me. After swimming back to shore we decided to get out. We had a snack back in the town center and then headed back to the train to come to Sousse. Fortunately the newer, air-conditioned train came to take us back, saving us from the now 105 degree weather.
Once back in Sousse we lounged and then had a light dinner and decided to go to the Bain Maure, or the traditional Moorish bathhouse. We walked into an old adobe building. On the inside it was richly carpeted, decorated with comfortable lounge chairs for after the baths and a series of carpeted rooms for resting. We changed our clothes and put on swimsuits (nakedness is a no go here). We entered the steamy bath through a heavy metal door and I had no idea what to expect.
The floor was tiled and the roof was a series of low domes with arched entryways. It was hot and steamy and there was a huge slab of hot marble in the middle of the biggest room. The larger room was lined with private stalls for bathing after getting a scrub down. Bilel and I made our way to the smallest, hottest steam chamber where we sat and sweat with our feet in hot water for about 30 minutes. We talked and I marveled at the network of steam pipes and faucets and heating units and tiled benches that lined the walls of the rooms. It was echoey and dripping and flowing water rang off the walls. The walls were all white and bare lightbulbs hung down from the ceilngs. We got progressively sweatier and eventually Bilel went and called for the scrubber to come. Bilel was first, and I left him o be scrubbed while I sat in the back room, sweating out every toxin that ever entered my body. Then it was my turn.
The man who scrubbed me down was about 5'6" and very squat. He was wearing a swimsuit and nothing else and didn't speak any French. He indicated that I should sit on the marble slab. I did. He then, with a booming SLAP hit the marble slab, indicating I should lay down. I complied. He began beating on my chest and massaging my pecs and my abs. He then proceed to yank my leg across my body, throw himself on top of me and CRRAAACKKK my back popped in about 40 places. This was then repeated with the other leg and both arms. At first I felt a bit shocked by this squat, sweaty tunisian man climbing on my like a slippery jungle gym, but I decided to go with the flow. He continued to massage my chest then SLAP! Hit my sternum. Time to turn over. He climbed on my back to pop it, yanked my now warm and compliant shoulder in odd directions and his sweaty knee might have slid across my neck. I am not sure but I was certainly relaxed, and much more comfortable than I would have expected given the amount of sweaty man flesh on me. SLAP on my lower back and it was time to sit up.
He put on an exfoliating glove and began to scrub my lower back, mid back then neck and shoulders with the force of a belt sander. SLAP on the marble and I laid down and he scrubbed my shoulders and arms and hands. Then my chest and my stomach. He jabbed at my stomach fat and said. Birra (beer). I nodded because it was easier. He then leaned into my face and shouted BOITE (night club). I again nodded because it was easier. RUSSKY (this was a statement shouted at me, not a question). AMERICA I shouted back. The shouting came as a consequence of the echoing water. He then scooted behind me like we might spoon slapped the marble and shoved my head. I ended up with my head on his calf as he scrubbed my neck and sunburned shoulders. Then moved to the other side. THWACK he hit the back of my head and I sat up. He then moved the belt sander hand cloth and scrubbed down my legs. I was thoroughly sweaty and gazing longingly at the shower head in front of me, away from the hot marble. After my legs he scrubbed my feet (heaven). SLAP he hit my back and yelled DOUCHE! It was time to shower off. The whole scrub down and massage must have lasted 15 minutes. The water in the shower was blessedly cool, and after the scrubbing my skin was baby soft. I then transferred to the private stall next to Bilel's stall and I was able to shower in blessedly cool water with soap, shampoo and conditioner. I toweled off and headed back out to the relax rooms. After the steam room the still 93 degree air felt cool and dry.
We laid on the chaises longues in our towels and cooled off and they brought us bottled water. Eventually we got dressed and paid (a total of 5 Dinar or about $3.50) and headed out into the steamy night. I felt refreshed, exhausted and scrubbed clean. I will definitely have to go back to the Bain Maure. Plus, if you need to get over body image issues, have a squat sweaty man scrub you down and repeatedly slap various parts of your body in front of a bunch of other dudes. Clears it right up.
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