Alone on Brysa Hill: A Day in Carthage

Carthage, home of the ancient Punic empire that once reigned over a large portion chunk of the Mediterranean world from North Africa, still weighs heavy in the national self-image of Tunisia. The national soccer team is nicknamed the "Carthage Eagles," the airport bears the name of Carthage (although it's not there), and the birthplace of Hannibal becameTunisia's most exclusive suburb, home to the rich and famous. This includes the presidential palace, one of the several swanky abodes formerly inhabited by the deposed Ben Ali. It is home to the privileged elite and (normally) a major tourist destination, where ancient ruins are scattered amongst fancy villas, European-style supermarkets, and cafes filled with well-off Tunisians and French-speaking ex-pats. There is a lot to see scattered around the city, but I recently spend a Saturday there to get my bearings and spend some time on Brysa Hill, the focus of the former city-state.

Punic ruins, with downtown Tunis in the far background.

First of all, the museum on the top of the hill is difficult to find if you're going by foot. Trying to break out my tourist book as seldom as possible, I followed various rambling roads the seemed to be heading upward, through a neighborhood of gated properties featuring private guards, one of whom eventually told me how to get to the top. This path took me through the parking lot of a luxury hotel, but eventually I did indeed find the museum and the ruins of Brysa. In front of the museum entrance, a fairly large number of vendors sold (or were trying to sell) touristy knick-knacks and refreshments. It was around noon on a beautiful Saturday, which I would imagine to be prime tourist time, but there was nobody there to buy anything.

Upon entering the museum and spending about 5 bucks for a pass that gets you access to any of Carthage's ancient sites, a guide asked if I wanted to spend about twice that to get a tour of the place. I decided against it and headed for the museum, which is relatively small and filled with a smattering of the numerous old rocks and metal objects that have been excavated over the years. Nice rocks, to be sure, with some cool mosaics and ancient cutlery, but ultimately it's a bit stuffy and poorly lit. The fact that everyone was written in Arabic and French also limited my enjoyment. Anyway, the real show is outside.

You emerge from the museum onto the Punic ruins that stand atop the hill, which slopes down toward the sea and offers a tremendous view of Carthage and the other coastal suburbs, with the city of Tunis in the distance. On a clear day, you get a sense of why this spot was so vitally important to the Carthaginians and, later, the Romans, who re-founded the city in the same spot. It looks out over the protected Lac de Tunis, a huge lagoon, and offers a strategic view of any route, on land or sea, that enemies might use to attack the hill. Beyond the Lac, mountains loom and add a bit of picture postcard majesty to the whole scene.

The mountains beyond Lac de Tunis, a large lagoon separating the city of Tunis from a stretch of coastal suburbs.

You have surprisingly free reign to walk amongst the ruins without supervision, and further down the hill a few kids were picking things off the ground and putting them in plastic bags. Quite obviously, they were gathering bits of ancient pottery and building materials. People have likely been doing this for centuries, but the ground was still full of little bits of Ancient Carthage and the Roman Empire - you couldn't take one step without stepping on a bit of history. The only problem is that there was almost no information available about what you were looking at, and the little stands that clearly once held up helpful signs are are now empty. I am fairly confident that this was done at the request of the professional guides, who are now the only provided source of background information. Although they have PhDs, the lag in tourism affects them too, and removing signage creates business.

Behind the museum, a pile of old rocks they apparently don't know what to do with.

Of course, the French plopped a cathedral on the hill in the late 1800s. It is now used as a concert venue.

What appear to be caskets. Slightly creepy.

I spent a few hours roaming the hill, almost by myself, which was surreal. I found a stone bench, surrounded by the remnants of an ancient empire and removed from the modern world, and simply sat there for a long while, looking about me and enjoying the complete break between the peaceful scene at Brysa and the noisy clutter of downtown Tunis. When I arrived, I counted three other people on the hill. Later in the afternoon, a small group of Japanese tourists came, but it was still shockingly empty for a Saturday afternoon. Scared away by reports of Salafists misdeeds and unrest in the faraway desert, there are very few foreigners here to enjoy this amazing place. I intend to make another trip to Carthage and hit up the other ancient sites - hopefully I'll have some company.

Two horses grazing on the hill. In the background kids were playing soccer on a dirt field by a very roman-looking school.

Random torso and planter. No information provided on what this is.

A piece of foot. Again, no idea what this is. It's just in the middle of a pathway.