Tunis is like, well, Africa

I'll save the bulk of this post until tomorrow morning. Since they have USB drives here I think I will be able to post a picture or two and I will work on most of the details in my room tonight.

For now, I'm in the beach town of Sousse, finally in the company of a number of Westerners (all bemused and sitting inside looking at the absolutely terrible weather tearing the city apart outside). I am staying at a beachfront resort that slashes its prices by eighty percent for the winter. As a consequence, I have an absolutely sweet room. Tomorrow, after I visit El-Jem, I plan on getting a massage and possibly a sea weed wrap at the in-hotel spa (together they cost about the price of a movie ticket at the Grove), and then send my worst socks and clothes off to the in-hotel launderers (very cost-effective considering I have only two outfits that I alternate between). Tonight, I'll partake in the included meal, hit up the bar, and write the premature memoirs of my trip to Tunisia (mainly because there are so many old fogeys in this fancy place that I feel guilty not to be on my deathbed and ruminating on the passage of a long life).

That's all for the moment, but tomorrow will feature vastly more interesting tôpics, including:

- Why Tunis seems like it's a place in, well, Africa
- Men, Tunisia, and traveling
- Trash...everywhere
- French and my inability to speak it
- When is a pizza not a pizza?