Jasmine blossoming

More news emerges on what we are now to call the Jasmine Revolution.

It appears that the main railway station in Tunis has now been utterly destroyed by fire.

I have to say, this was never my favourite railway station: it looked like the lumpen 1950s structure it was rather than either an elegant colonial folly or a modern terminus.

The interior was perfectly pleasant, if a little bombastic and heavy. But while the French did not bequeath a decent terminus, they did leave behind a reasonably decent network of railway lines connecting Tunisia to its neighbours as well as joining the main towns.

The Société Nationale des Chemins de Fer Tunisiens (or as everyone actually calls it, "SNCFT") still operates a fairly comprehensive network of passenger services, but my God they are run down:

SNCFT celebrated its 50th birthday a few years back, and two posters attempt to tell the story - first, how things were at independence:

And then a view of the world more recently, with what appears to be a gleaming and brand-new train, all clean and shiny:

The reality is nowhere near that glamorous:

Heavyweight but slow diesel-electric locomotives haul ancient and grubby rolling stock at speeds barely in excess of 20 or 25mph. The timetable is more a poetic expression of desire than a working document:

Of course, that was just the modern equipment. Some of the stuff is positively archaeological:

The last time I travelled by SNCFT (which, admittedly, was some time ago), they were not content with the standard three classes of travel that seem de rigeur in developing countries. Instead, in true Imperial style, there was a fourth class of super-luxury: Grand Confort.

The Grand Confort carriage on my train consisted of six enormous suede armchairs which rotated at the passenger's whim, each surrounded by about an acre of empty space. It was bliss. Although I think it cost the staggering sum of £2 for my 100 mile, three hour journey rather than the more economical £1 of 1st class. And my carriage was completely empty.

 

And, interestingly, despite there being a buffet car on the train, I was not permitted to take food and drink into my Grand Confort compartment. Everyone else could eat in their seats, whereas I had to stand in the wobbly gangway juggling my harissa sandwich and my bottle of Fanta.

But the French also bequeathed what is actually a rather decent urban railway in Tunis itself, connecting the city to the middle class suburbs:

And you can experience something completely different in the south of the country, where the private train of the old Beys of Tunis has been converted for tourist use as the Red Lizard:

The carriages of the lézard rouge were constructed in the very early twentieth century (can't remember the date but 1905 springs to mind), and they are a delightful way of experiencing some of Tunisia's extraordinarily scenic scenery.

Lots of tourists just stay in the lush but narrow coastal strip with its enormous sandy beaches, never exploring the inner deserts or the southern wildlands (though these mud dwellings are rather lovely, and there's the famous troglodyte caves that were used in Star Wars. For those who like that sort of thing):

Every Tunisian town is stuffed full of beautiful old artefacts, like these tiles:

And the Roman remains are just staggering: here's the glorious amphitheatre at El Djem:

Wait for the fires to go out and then give your support to the people who are now the first to have overthrown an Arabic dictator for themselves. Think Tunisia for your next holiday.