Sidi Bou Said — the blue and white Tunisian town named after a Sufi saint – Prism

What is blue and white, next to the sea and super Instagrammable? Santorini might be the obvious answer, but a cheaper, less crowded and equally beautiful answer, if not more, is Sidi Bou Said in Tunisia.

The city that dominates the Mediterranean and the Gulf of Tunisia is named after a 13th-century Sufi saint, while a French baron is widely recognized for its blue and white color scheme.

After having tried the Middle East and North Africa region during my stay in Morocco and tempted to explore more of the culture, I looked at Tunisia, found a travel companion and booked a ticket for Tunisia.

While the original plan was only Tunisia, Sidi Bou Said in all its blue glory appeared on my social networks thanks to my former editor, who lives there, and seemed too picturesque not to include it in the itinerary.

Sidi Bou Said is less than an hour's drive from the Tunisian capital and the trip was pleasant enough with vegetation and mountains along the way.

When we arrived, the hill town looked like in the photos; all white and blue, narrow alleys but big enough for a car to pass through and orange every few steps.

Sidi Bou Said does not have many hotels to choose from and among those few options, the Hôtel Dar Said (give: house) had the most favorable reviews. With its blue bars in cast iron windows, beautiful tiles and sea views from the room, Dar Said set the bar really high for all future accommodations.

Our first stop, considering it was late in the afternoon and we were hungry, was Café des Delices. Now, when you search for this coffee online, you will see three pop-up videos on Google, all of Patrick Bruel singing in French about Café des Delices. (I suggest clicking here and reading the rest of the article with Bruel's voice in the background, just because I played it endlessly during our three-day trip).

The cafeteria terrace was an ideal place to relax overlooking the Gulf of Tunisia, although the weather at the beginning of March was cold for outdoor seating. What helped was the aux pignons – Tunisian tea with mint leaves and pine nuts.

In true Maghreb style, tea is a key part of any meal in Tunisia.

As with Turkish coffee and Moroccan mint tea, ask the server to adjust the sugar to prevent it from being too sweet.

From an afternoon bathed in the sun to the night views of the gleaming marina below, we take everything in cups of tea and Brik: a thin fried phyllo dough, full of tuna, a staple in Tunisian cuisine, or an egg that runny nose, or both.

While we were walking back, there was hardly anyone around and we had the cobbled streets with little light for ourselves, with the occasional sound of music and conversation coming from inside restaurants and houses.

The second day was to explore the city on foot after a breakfast with local cheese and jam, and dates filled with butter. While I'm still not sure how I feel about the tea and pine nut combo, I can tell you that dates and butter are a decadent pairing.

From the innermost empty alleys, we head to the main street, Rue Habib Thameur, full of shops, boutiques, galleries and restaurants.

One of the first things we saw was a queue outside a window that overlooked a kitchen, serving fried desserts. We bought two Bambalounis, delicious Tunisian donuts sprinkled with sugar, and we went down the street, where we find the tomb of the saint named after the city.

According to historians, Abu Said Ibn Khalaf Yahya al-Tamimi al-Beji was established in this part, which at that time was known as the village of Jabal el-Menar, and established a sanctuary here. After his death in 1231, a zawiya (The Islamic religious school), including a mosque, was built for the saint and the city, which became known as Sidi Bou Said, grew slowly around it.

“Almost 500 years later, in the 18th century, the Turkish Beys of the Husainid dynasty, who then ruled the region, built their residences in the city. Later, in the early twentieth century, the city attracted rich Tunisians and French. ”- Sacred Steps

Adjacent to the zawiya It is Café des Nattes, a typical local coffee shop and one of the most recognizable landmarks of Sidi Bou Said. We climbed the stairs to the terrace of the cafeteria, where there was a hint of smoke from the water pipes mixed with the aroma of coffee, and spent a few hours watching people.

Maybe out of season due to the weather or maybe Sidi Bou Said is still being made known to travelers, but we saw few tourists and more Tunisians from nearby cities and towns during our stay.

The locals in Sidi Bou Said converse in Arabic and / and French, and as we did not know, the communication was a mixture of broken English and Arabic, as well as hand gestures. People in general were kind and happy to answer questions about the city, but they were not used to seeing Pakistanis on their side of the world.

"Where are you from?" The merchants asked, and the conjectures ranged from Europe to Africa, but never to Pakistan or even to India.

But, like Morocco, affinity with a Muslim country seemed to be profound.

“Yes, Pakistan, I know. Muslims, brothers and very kind people, ”said one of the merchants, handing me my friend and I to call you for free.

Most shops are tailor-made for tourists, but you can find beautiful ceramics, sketches and even handmade beauty products.

Art stores and galleries were one of the most attractive ways of spending time, and the people who ran them were a great source for learning more about the local art scene and the city.

Sidi Bou Said, which was once a popular refuge for writers and artists (including the likes of André Gide and Henri Matisse), has all the quintessential qualities of a charming little town.

The mountainous neighborhood is dotted with white houses lit by ornate blue windows and some of the most beautiful doors I've seen; some freshly painted with tacks that are arranged to make stars and crescents, among other forms, and others old with cracks and chipped paint and not necessarily blue.

(Full disclosure: I love colorful doors, especially old and traditional ones).

Some turns will take you to remote areas with sea views, others to smaller side streets, in the shade of bougainvillea and orange trees and with more blue lattice screens, known as mashrabiya – and wrought iron filigree.

Regardless of the turn, if you're like me, you'll stop every few steps to take a picture.

We didn't have "tourism" in mind during our stay in Sidi Bou Said, but the only exception we made was for the palace of Baron Rodolphe d & # 39; Erlanger, the Frenchman who is said to have activated the white and blue trend.

Baron Rodolphe was a painter and musicologist, who also specialized in Arabic music and was reportedly established in Sidi Bou Said in 1901.

The palace, on top of a hill overlooking the Mediterranean, is called Ennejma Ezzahra ("Shining Star") and was built between 1909 and 1921.

It is also known as the Casa del Barón.

According to a New York Times According to the article, 7,000 peaks in the excavation were broken, and 10 artisans, two Tunisians and eight Moroccans, worked a decade on the intricate roofs and balconies, cracks and marble walls of the palace.

The meticulously designed interior, inspired by Arabic design, deserves at least a couple of hours.

The building with a simple blue and white exterior now houses the Museum of Arabic and Mediterranean Music.

When we asked some locals about how the people got their color, they had no clear answer, and none mentioned the baron.

However, if most of the items I checked upon my return should be trusted, it was his palace that inspired the vivid blue and white.

Our hotel staff insisted that you could not miss a meal in the Dar Zarrouk restaurant and lounge. Due to the cold winds, the terrace was closed but the patio with elegant wicker furniture and the scent of jasmine and oranges in the air was cozy enough.

The couscous with lamb and dried fruits was good, but the harissa, a spicy and aromatic chili paste given to the world by the region, that came with it raised the dish to the next level, at least according to my Pakistani taste buds.

My recommendation is yes, the couscous, but also the crème brûlée in Dar Zarrouk. The perfect French dessert was impregnated with orange blossom and came with a fragment of burnt caramel that reached such a perfect balance of sweet and bitter that it would have ordered it on its own.

The next morning, before our trip back to Tunisia, we wandered around a little more, we allowed ourselves another Bambalouni and picked up some trinkets.

The trick to get the most out of this picturesque city, which begs to be filled with flattering adjectives, is simple: don't think too much about what to do, where to go, what to eat. Everything is exposed in front of you, wrapped in beautiful details in cobalt blue: all you have to do is walk the streets, take your time and stop to admire the many blue doors.