VISITING TUNIS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 129, 2 June 1934, Page 14

VISITING TUNIS.

NEW ZEALANDER ABROAD. M'ss Beatrice Holmes, formerly of Wellington, who always presents her travels in most attractive guise, has written to friends as follows: — "I can't believe that I am actually in Africa. Tunis itself does not look so Eastern as parts of Malta, and there is none of the romance of the desert in this modern French town, where even the Arabs seem rather out of place. "The people arc fascinating, and I love watching them. Bedouin women, Zouaves of the guard, with baggy red trousers and gold embroidered red jackets, officers and men of French colonial regiments, all in the most exotic uniforms. There are veiled women in cream woollen garments and heel less leather slippers, black stuff drawn all over their faces with two .slits for the eyes. Men of all colours from almost white to nearly ebony, in

robes of silk and wool. It all looks rather like a scene from a musical comedy after the serious atmosphere of Malta.' - Malta And "The Fleet. "Leaving Malta was very sad, after a delightful visit. The fleet had left, and it is surprising how 'dead' the whole place becomes after the fleet goes away. I had the use of a car given me, and found it a great pleasure, as the hotel where I was staying was the dullest place possible. Practically empty and very old-fashioned, though still 'comfortable. I had to go round livo corners to my room, past six aspidistras, a cage of canaries, and three engravings of Nelson! The drawing room was too wonderful; not only was it well provided with antimacassars, but it contained five 'occasional' tables with flowers, four jardinieres with ferns and what-nots, vases with bullruslics, and other 'prehistoric' things, the beamed ceiling being tastefully draped in white and gold plaster. "We had a lovely calm passage from Malta., and I was thrilled when I looked out and saw the coast of Africa in the early sunrise. -One headland seemed higher than the other low-lying country, and on it was a cluster of white houses —Carthage, the historical. I felt it was quite wrong to steam past Cartilage in an Italian liner, with a photo of Mussolini in the music room—we should have been in a galley with purple and gold sails and laden with spices from Persia

Wo have wonderful accommo- , dation, tlie rooms typically French, even ; to the square pillows, yellow wooden furniture, and brilliant red carpets. In the Native City. "This morning 'we secured a guide i and went into the native city, narrow ; streets lined with tiny one-roomed shops , where Arabs made brass vessels, bright leather slippers and fezes, or else , cooked fritters in honey and oil over primitive tiled stoves. We went to a booth where we saw the.Tunisian fez in , various stages, beginning as a looselyknitted white thing, Tather like the double toe of a huge sock, then as it looks after shrinking for two months in soapy water, and having the nap raised with a teazle burr, before the final drying and pressing. The soaking for such a long time makes the knitted wool turn into felt. The guide then took us to a carpet shop, where we saw. the most glorious things—but the ones I admired most were sixteenth century, and were only for millionaires! Then on to a tiny perfume booth,'lined with carved and fretted lacelikc panels of marble, where the Hey of Tunis purchases his scents. The Arab in charge was an amazing person, who surrounded himself with small gilt bottles and dabbed essence over us quite freely. I bought one bottle of marvellous stuff— delicious—and wish now I had secured more. Lots of tilings in the native town are mainly for the tourist, but those essences were not. The man showed us many interesting things, among others the ambergris, the musk gland from a gazelle, and others, which horrors are the basis of all scents! I "Sitting on the promenade to-day, we watched a wonderful procession of people go by. I was rather amazed to see one woman very smartly dressed in the latest Paris black, with three silver foxes draped round the neck, pink silk stockings, curled hair, an oft'-thc-faco hat, with a thick black veil from the tip of her nose to the point of her chin only. "We are going to Carthage, and also to the Holy City of Tunisia, the only place where Christians are allowed to enter the Mosque. It was used as a stable by Napoleon, and so defiled that I suppose they think a few more Christians, more or less, cannot possibly make any difference."