We pull into Kerouan safely and pile out; turns out the louage drop is

not real close to the city center, so we cab it to the center. Wow;

the first thing that greets us is the gorgeous prayer tower of the

Grand Mosque of Kerouan. Unfortunately, Quakers aren't welcome to go

in. Jamil strolls in as I idle outside, chatting with exceedingly

friendly strangers, including one Imam, who with great kindness and

care explains to me in perfect French the benefits of reading the

Koran and proceeds to give me a complimentary scented cube and (after

Jamil gets a picture of us) a prayer cap. Apparently it's a pretty

unusual thing for a French-speaking American to come to Kerouan. I

admit to deriving a small amount of pride in these people, for whom

French is effectively a native tongue, thinking that I am a

Frenchman. "How did you learn to speak French like this?" Again, I'm

the deaf and retarded Frenchman to them, but a Frenchman

nonetheless. One guy runs and gathers a few friends to come meet the

American.

Jamil returns and the two of us go off into the medina of

Kerouan. It's small, old, fantastic, and nothing at all like the

commercial medina in Hammamet. Craftsmen are weaving carpets and

sewing shirts, and throngs of people mill up and down the main

thoroughfare, with vendors hawking rugs, gifts, and sweets. The little

date-roll sweets that I've had in Tunis are apparently a speciality of

Kerouan; we buy one or two to sample and the shopkeeper refuses our

money, freely giving them to us. The hospitality of these people is

just astounding. And the fresh, honey-sweet date-rolls are

delicious. We stop in at a cafe, as it is getting dark, and sit with

our mint teas (~$0.15 each), watching the men around us playing cards

and talking. We decide, impromptu, to head on down to Sousse, making

this a four-city day. Taxi, louage, taxi, and we're in northern

Sousse, wandering around an area that feels like Hammamet again -

grand hotels and cobblestone streets with the same set of

pseudo-Italian overpriced (by Tunisian standards) restaurants, tobacco

shops, and souvenirs. Classical music blares from the speakers

surrounding a colorfully lit and ornate set of water fountains. It's

raining lightly and the whole setup feels a little surreal. We grab a

room at a local hotel (well, apartment, really), which is renting at

less than a third of its peak-season rate. We grab an Italian-esque

dinner and head back.

Not one wireless network in Sousse after a full downtown wardrive in

our cab.