Here Comes the Sun.doc

After five months piecing together the dissertation, the vacation in Tunisia was the light at the end of a long and labourious tunnel. The seven straight weeks of work at River Island combined with unexpected and crippling amounts of snow for the UK combined to make the timing for this trip all the more worth it. I was lucky enough to be able to stay with Talia the evening before the flight in London (for fear of British transport impeding a way to the airport) and took off heading south of Europe on Sunday afternoon.

After landing in Monastir late Sunday we took a bus to Hammamet where the hotel is located. Since then I’ve enjoyed seven days of absolute relaxation. No joke. My days are comprised of sleeping in, waiting for my next meal, and tracking the sun so we can have a chance to play. This is about the height of it.

The hotel is a four-star place with all the amenities—it serves as the perfect backdrop to a week of selfish luxury. My hotel room is beyond large with an embarrassingly luxurious en suite, balcony, and desk. At the same time I was struck by the comfortableness of my hideaway, the guilt of such an overdone accommodation in the poorest continent in the world has continually hit home. I may have stepped foot in Africa for the first time, but make no mistake, I know the Africa I am seeing is far from the reality of the conditions outside the resort property, and larger Hammamet.

But I haven’t let these realizations spoil the reward this trip serves for the hard work I’ve put in these past few months, and for the whole of my MAIPR year. The food here is fantastic, the animation team welcoming, and the beach and pool stunning. Half of the days this week have been sunny (and extremely hot), and the other half have been overcast and moderate. I’ve met some really nice people this week. The hotel is made up of guests from the UK, France, and Germany but sadly the groups seem to stick to these little pockets. Unfortunately there hasn’t been any youngsters mine own age to tag around with (it’s the Turkey seniors home all over again) but there are some really nice couples and people from Britain who have enjoyed having me around. One snowbird in particular named Bob (who makes his wife’s eyes roll by telling the most hilarious stories) has enjoyed waving me over every day and chatting about Canada and the state of the world.

Other than the activities you can picture me doing (which is most likely a pretty spot on image) I’ve been doing a bit of writing—call it a MAIPR year in review—and have finished three full novels with another on its last legs. Once the sun goes down, I’ve also found time for some quality DVD time for a series my family sent at Christmas. Yesterday I ventured into the city of Hammamet for the day. It’s an incredibly beautiful place, and I was amazed at how “local” it feels. That’s about the best work I can describe it as—I had expected it to be Westernized because it’s a big tourist destination but I was pleasantly surprised. It’s a 30 minute walk along the coastline to get to the city centre but there were some amazing sights along the way. The jewel of the city though was the Medina at the centre. It’s a big enclosure (hundreds of years old) that houses families in large apartment buildings with tiny shops scattered throughout. The guy I talked to (who wanted to sell me 500 pounds worth of merchandise) said there were over 4000 families living in the beautiful white and blue accented buildings. I managed to purchase two small items before walking around the grounds of an old cemetery en route back to the hotel.

This week has been just what I needed after such a stressful and complicated move out from Leamington Spa. Thankfully, while I will miss the 18 – 23 degree temperatures immensely, I have wonderful things to look forward to back home in Canada.

Doc’s Prescription of the Day: Everyone warned about how rainy England is, and it isn’t true. What England IS is overcast. It’s almost always overcast. Reuniting with the sun, which will follow me home to Canada, was long overdue.