We were in Tunisia some time ago, long before the recent
events. And the only languages the
people spoke there were Arabic and French. At least that’s all we ever heard.
We don’t speak either, and neither did the couple we
traveled with, but we had a guide and a driver so we were okay.
The only two words we ever saw, or heard in English, were
fast and food. We saw fast food
signs almost everywhere. Some
contribution, huh?
But it wasn’t the kind of fast food you’re thinking of. It was usually a pretty beat up old,
small building with a hand-painted sign on it, or occasionally, some guy
sitting at the side of the road with what looked like a wok or some version of
one, with a hand-painted sign and a bucket of chopped up seasoned meat,
probably camel, or maybe lamb, that he would cook up real quick for you.
I never had the guts to try any. If you saw the buildings or their buckets you’d understand
why.
We ate mostly in hotels and upscale restaurants. So I guess we missed out on two things:
interesting local food, and serious stomach problems.
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