When I use the word “sailed” in describing our voyage, I really mean “cruised”, and in a 300 foot ship! And happy we were to be aboard a vessel of this size, because the late fall winds in the Mediterranean can be extremely strong, creating some very rough seas. Since our direction was predominantly from East to West, a strong north wind blowing down from the Adriatic can toss even a big ship around and a passenger across a stateroom or into the bar. Looking out from a porthole at a five meter sea makes one not only admire the skill of ancient mariners in much smaller sail boats, but also see at first hand that understanding the numerous Mediterranean winds, currents, tides, rocks, havens, etc. has determined trade routes, fishing patterns, the outcome of many a naval battle and, therefore, the fate of nations. It must have been Top Secret information for certain eyes only. Knowledge was one necessity, and courage was another. Over the centuries the October winds, such as those we encountered must have wreaked havoc on ships, causing a tremendous loss of life and limb. Being a seaman was a profession for the brave. It is small wonder that until fairly recently maritime activity dramatically slowed in the winter months. Any romantic notion one has of the Mediterranean as a placid, docile inland sea is soon dashed when trying to eat dinner with a 40 knot wind blowing across the beam. It is best to take more than one set of clothes on these trips.

For diplomatic reasons we were unable to land in Libya, so we had to leave the great Roman towns of Leptis Magna (birthplace of Emperor Septimus Severus) for another day and sailed to the land of Carthage. Tunisia, its modern name, like Morocco, is a place where today co-exists well with yesterday, the European with the Berber/Arab, and where an active cosmopolitan population is moving forward within the world economy. In my opinion, there are three “must see” sights in Tunisia: al-Djem, Kairouan, and Carthage. Al-Djem is a total surprise; we could call it a little “gem” except that Djem is a huge coliseum rivaling Rome’s in size. For some reason the city fathers in a small Roman town in what was (and remains) a highly agricultural area (millions of olive trees) south of Carthage decided to build a stadium that can still be seen from miles around. This is the ancestor of Lambeau Field in Green Bay! The Romans liked to make architectural statements of power and might to conquered peoples, showing off their engineering prowess as a metaphor for their legions. So perhaps this was one of those statements dictated by the higher-ups for the local masses.

The Coliseum at Djem

The contrast of purpose between this gladiatorial forum and the great mosque at Kairouan could not be more striking. On the other hand, virtually all of the 414 columns in the Great Mosque and its enormous courtyard come from Roman and Carthaginian buildings providing a long cultural continuity to this building, begun in the 7th century, with its forbearers. The first four centuries from its founding were the heyday of Kairouan, especially under the Aglabid and Fatimid dynasties. Like Paris and its cathedral of Notre Dame a couple of centuries later,
Kairouan and its Great Mosque were a major center of learning in the Islamic world. Unlike Paris, in winter Kairouan enjoys a wonderfully warm winter climate for study. I know this now from first hand experience. Nowadays Parisians flock to Tunisian beaches to enjoy this same sunshine. O tempora, o mores! We ended our stay in Kairouan with a marvelous couscous and local wine in the medina.

Bay of Tunis: Bay of Tunis

For me the main goal of the North African voyage was to see Carthage, the Phoenician colony which became one of the great cities of the world and the arch-enemy of Rome for control of the Mediterranean. I knew from my Latin class in high school that Carthage had been destroyed by the Romans after the third Punic War (I remember my Latin teacher citing Cato’s “Cartago delenda est” using the gerundive as the best example of the passive periphrastic!); but, I nevertheless wanted to stand on the steps of what was left of the city. This was where Dido had said good-bye to Aeneas as he left behind his love affair with her to found Rome. From here Hannibal had departed for Carthaginian Spain and his invasion of Italy, much of which he held for about fifteen years. The town of Barcelona in Spain (and their football team) preserves Hannibal’s family name, Barca. And this was where the Roman general, Scipio Africanus, stood after defeating Carthage at the battle of Zema. Looking out over the Bay of Tunis I realized not only what a strategic location Carthage had but how very beautiful was its setting. A comparison with Bay of Naples, due north of Carthage and not all that far away, is unavoidable. I reflected upon how such magnificent geography could have been the scene of pitched battles. We were surprised to find that the ancient ruins of the city are now within a very upscale suburb of Tunis, sort of like a Beverly Hills with ruins. While strange, this integration of older and newer seems in this case to have preserved rather than disturbed the ruins, although sometimes you have to look in somebody’s back yard. The highly protected military and mercantile harbors of ancient Carthage are still visible as well as many ruins of the later city that Rome rebuilt, including the impressive water reservoirs. And, of course, the name and memory of Carthage lives on in the many towns with this name across America and the world. The day and our visit ended as we watched the sunset on the Bay from the esplanade of the church of St. Louis, another giant, who died in Tunis on a Crusade in the 13th century. Sic transit gloria mundi.