Mighty Carthage now a leafy, seaside suburb

We were up early to take a stroll around Sidi Bou. Our objective was to catch the town before tourists and with good light. This is a photographer's paradise; it's hard to go more than a few feet without unother perfect composition hitting your eye. We eventually ended up on a little promontory looking down on the town beach and harbour, and down the coast at neighbouring Carthage, our objective for the day. The light was indeed spectacular, and at 8am there wasn't a tourist in sight.


Back at the hotel, we let our new friend Abdullah serve us breakfast next to the pool. A Tunisian breakfast, at least at the Dar Said hotel, is a Continental one: a pot of strong black coffee and jug of hot milk; a basket of breads including croissant and pain au chocolat; butter and jans, including fig; plates of meat and cheese; yogurt; soft boiled egg. It's quite enough to set you up for the day. Good thing, too. We were going to need our energy.

Carthage has lived many lives, most notably as the capital of the Punic kingdom and home of Hannibal who almost brought down Rome before it became a world power. Later, it emerged from the ashes of Roman conquest as a new and sophisticated imperial city, one of the largest in the Empire. Perhaps its most surprising incarnation is its modern one, a leafy and exclusive suburb of Carthage. To see the ruins you have to walk through palm tree-lined avenues bordered by walled villas. It all felt a bit like LA, frankly.

Seeing Carthage means walking. A lot. This was a big town and the main sites are spread out. It's also very hilly; culture and a work out at the same time.

We started on Byrsa Hill, where the Romans built their Acropolis-like forum on the remains of the Punic city centre. There's not a lot to see beyond foundations, but the spectacular views give you a sense of just what a great location this was for a city. And you can just make out the outlines of the ancient harbour, once one of the world's most sophisticated; now apparently a series of lakes giving some of those posh villas a bit more water in their view.

There's a small museum up on the hill that gives the history of the city and shows some of what was unearthed here. The models are most helpful, letting you get a better sense of what all these bare foundations underpinned. My favourite sight here, however, was two sarcophagi, each topped by life sized effigies, one male, one female. I looked closely at this woman who lived 400 years bc. She wore an obviously Egyptian skirt, beneath a very Greek blouse and hair style. Her funerary monument was Etruscan in tradition, yet she was burried in North Africa. And I laughed, thinking of our world's obsession with this "new" concept of globalisation. This 2400-year-old woman could tell us that there's nothing new under the sun.

Next to the ruins on the hill you find the slightly dilapidated, Moorish, yellow hulk of the Cathedral of St. Louis. (Turns out the namesake of my home town died here during a seige in the Crusades.) The church has been deconsecrated and is now used as a concert venue, so I didn't get the chance to get inside to hunt amongst the monuments for proof of the family legend that a 19th c Ferrara was a ptiest who had something to do with the bishop of Carthage.

A 20-minute walk, downhill then up again, brought us to a ridge covered with the remains of Roman villas. And sandwiched, a bit incongruously, between the sprawl of the President's palace on the coast and the massive mosque he's constructed just inland. The villas will be a dissappointment to anyone who's seen Pompeii, Herculaneum or Ostia. There's just not a lot here besides foundations and a few signs showing where a particular mosaic now in the Bardo once stood. But the views are magnificent and you do get the sense that the residents of ancient Carthage, just like their modern descendents, had it good.

Another stroll, about 15 minutes downhill, brought us to the Antonine Baths. These were once amongst the biggest in the Empire. There's a model here that shows how the massive complex spread out along the sea front: any modern city would lust after such a well situated and comprehensive facility. But once again, a lot of imagination is required here as only foundations remain. At least in this case, foundations are vaults and corridors that tower above your head. With underpinnings this impressive you can grasp, a bit, at what it might have been. Despite the overall size you're still going to get a better sense of a baths complex at the Baths of Diocletian in Rome, or out at Ostia. But there you won't have the sound of pounding surf and the sparkling sea vistas.

So my verdict on Carthage: very hard work for very average ruins within a particularly alluring setting. As a fan of all things Ancient Roman I had to do them, but the ruins we saw at Dougga and El Jem were finer.

We hiked up hill to the Carthage train, and further up to return to the hotel from train station. Sidi Bou is not recommended for people who can't walk up and down hills. By the time I staggered up the stairs to the hotel, beneath the clouds of fragrant jasmine, I could hear the pool calling my name. We all collapsed there for a few hours, dozing like the hotel's wild cats in the sun.

Later, refreshed, dressed and made up, we were transformed enough in both energy levels and appearance to head out for a very special dinner at Dar el Jeld. This is mentioned in every guidebook as the best restaurant in Tunis, and it delivered on expectations.

The setting is fantastic. It's in a converted mansion near the souks of the old city. There's only one subtle sign; you have to be directed to the big, nail-studded door and then knock to gain entry. Once inside you go through a procession of reception rooms before emerging in what was the main palace courtyard and is now the dining room. Brightly coloured tiles covered the walls and the lighting was low, kept subtle by candles burning in wall sconces around the room. A musician played haunting strains on an Arabic stringed instrument while waiters in local costume seemed omnipresent when serving diners' needs.

Unlike most places we've been to, the maitre'd had a thorough command of English, so we didn't have to rely on our French patois to get through the menu. After an explanation of the local specialities, we opted for the mixed hors d'oeuvres to start. This was more what we expected when we ordered meze last night. There was a variety of small, fried, stuffed dough parcels; a cold, marinated seafood salad; slices of hard boiled egg on a bed of something like ratatouille; slices of a cheese somewhere between ricotta and bufala mozzarella on a salad of diced tomato, cucumber and onion. For mains, I had a plate of lamb couscous of great delicacy, the meat literally falling from the bone. Hillary had lamb as well and Lisa opted for kabkabou, a local specialty that prepares a whole fish in tomatoes, olives and capers. (No denying we're just 80 miles south of Sicily.) All this was washed down with a couple of bottles of vieux magot, Tunisia's best red wine.

We split assorted pastries for dessert; almonds and pistachios abound. The maitre'd, who by now had warmed to the charms of three single girls (waiters always love us) brought us a creme caramel/puddingy sort of thing covered with ground pistachios to try, on the house. Tasty, but the savouries were better than the sweets.

All in all a fantastic dining experience, with great food and wine, attentive service and super atmosphere. All for about £30 per person ... the most expensive dinner we were to eat in the country.