Stopped smoking about two years ago and became a big boy, comparing before and after. Now it is everyday walking, one and a half hour to the office and back home. Expected to lose a lot of weight along the way, but looking in the mirror, it seems like an illusion, with worn-off shoes as the only proof of this work-out.
Despite the revolution, supermarkets are still full, everything more expensive than you really need, and thus basically it is again La Marsa Souk; the open air market on a cool late December Sunday morning in this north eastern Tunisian sea-side town. My wife and her brother go for the fruit and vegetables and then we look for what else, going home with a white porcelain teapot, a five liter printed glass bottle and a lentil formed curious looking stone that I think wants to be cut in half to show it is a septarian concretion.
On my way home for Christmas with family, before I could write down the new address of my oldest friend, the battery of my laptop went dead and I just saw fish. Not the ‘oude visch markt’ told the strange guy opening the door in the wrong street, possibly the ‘vis straat’ just around the corner in the medieval center of the little town of Zaltbommel, where indeed his son welcomed me at the door.
With the sound of their roaring skeletons still in my ears, I left with some nice eternal crystals in my pocket.