And then I remembered it was the Bristol International Balloon Fiesta this weekend Still, nice to wake up to all those hot air balloons. More photos here:

http://gallery.durrans.com/v/events/other/hot-air-2007/

It looks best if you look at the high rez photos.

I remember that in school, both primary and secondary, I was taught how to change a plug. I was taught the colours of the wires inside a cable and how they related to the electrical mains supply. I understood which terminals within a plug these had to be connected to and I knew how to strip the cable to the correct lengths.

These days most electrical items come with a plug moulded onto the wire. It is rare that you have to change a fuse let alone rewire the plug. Before today I really can’t remember the last time that I saw the inside of a plug. Are children even taught, what was once considered a necessary life skill, in schools?

So  I ask you, when did you last wire a plug? What colour is the earth wire? Does blue connect to the neutral terminal or the live terminal? Finally, is it the earth or the live terminal that has the fuse?

I am off to visit my parents this weekend – and meet up with an old school friend. My mother’s side of the family are all meeting up for the bank holiday because my aunt is coming over from Nepal, where she lives teaching English to the natives, for a short while. It will be nice to see everyone again.

Oh, my friend Chris sent me to this web page showing a kite in the shape of a mouse pointer. How cool?!

• Bit of wire to convert from the Vauxhall Quad Lock connector to the radio: £30
• Fascia adaptor: £20
• Cost of bits that I was sold but didn’t need and will be sending back: £50
• Listening to my ipod and getting some quality audio out of it: Priceless

Lots of effort but worth it in the end. I have lost the stalk controls (that would be another 60 quid) and also the speed dependant volume system but I think I can just about cope without them. Vauxhall also don’t provide a dimmer output in the standard wiring loom so that the radio doesn’t know the cars lights are on (which would normally cause the display to dim slightly). In their wisdom they also don’t provide an ignition wire which means I have had to wire the stereo directly to the battery cable – this means that as far as the stereo is concerned the car is always on. Apparently Vauxhall have moved these signals into a digital data bus and I can only have access to this by paying the £60 upgrade for the stalk controls.

After fitting all this into the car I went for a drive on Sunday, taking Norm off to Bristol Airport. When we were passing the new Broadmead extension I started to smell an acrid electrical burning. This is generally not good and I thought the car might be about to set on fire. I got Norm to start sniffing various bits of the car – although he had a cold so maybe this wasn’t the best approach. The smell turned out to be that bit of Bristol rather than that car… still quite worrying!

My Eurovision weekend was spent in the company of my good friends down in Exeter where Roz organised an exciting party in the house of Reagan, Dave B and Damo. I was allocated three countries that I had to support, as well as the UK, which were The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, Romania and Belarus who did surprisingly well in the competition by coming sixth overall.

I think this year more than ever the political voting spoilt the competition. Eurovision has always been a bit susceptible to national bias with Greece and Cyprus being the main culprits over the years. However with the introduction of the Eastern Bloc and Balkan countries into the EBU it has become far more prevalent. It was laughably easily to predict the set of countries that were going to be gaining votes. I would be willing to bet that it will be these same set of countries that rank highly next year. Not that I am a sore looser or anything.

Our entry, a cross between Steps, 5ive and Eurotrash, with stunning chorography and deeply meaningful lyrics came a joint second to last with France. Not only that but it also managed to set Damo’s surround sound amplifier on fire with acrid smoke pouring out of it by the end of the performance.

Roz bought the most amazing burgers from some farm shop near her flat. They tasted gorgeous and I am very jealous that they have such a fine purveyor of burger goodness so close to them. I think at the weekend I will have to go to the delicatessen on the Gloucester road for meat treats.

It was also great to catch up with my friend John (Prom) who has been absent from my life for a good number of years now. He is coming to the end of a philosophy degree at Exeter so good luck to him in the coming months.

Oh, Serbia won Eurovision – much to Becky’s dismay as she had to drink from The Cup Of Europe (a bowl of sparkling alcoholic fruit punch) whenever they were given 12 points

Here’s to a great weekend, it was nice to catch up with everyone again.

I left the Bardo feeling as though I had had a whistlestop tour of the inside without really being allowed to let the enormity of the exhibits sink in. While doing the day trips gives you a good taste of Tunisia it doesn’t really let you discover the detail behind the attractions. The Bardo is certanly one place I would revisit if I ever go back to the country.

The last stop on my one day tour of the north of Tunisia was at the medina of Tunis. Since 1979 the medina has been a UNESCO world heritage site, its origins dating back to before the 7^th century. The medina consists of a maze of narrow alleyways, covered passages, mosques and monuments. The tour group entered the medina close to the prime minister’s building where a market trader showed us how to make a fez. There are many different styles of fez from the comic depictions as portrayed by Tommy Cooper to the more sombre looking hat that is almost flush with the shape of the head.

The Tunisian Fez is made from a large woollen balaclava style knitted material. The material is boiled overnight to shrink it down to the correct size. This has the added effect of solidifying the fibres together making what feels like a tough felt like material. It is dyed a dark red, almost maroon, colour before being brushed into shape on a wooden stand.

Wandering around the medina is like trying to navigate a maze. It is very easy to get yourself thoroughly lost, with the winding alleys aiding the destruction of your sense of direction. The medina of Tunis feels completely different to that of Hammamet. Hammamet’s medina is devoted almost completely to the tourist industry whereas the Tunis medina is the exact opposite. One of the alleys that I walked down was devoted solely to selling jewellery. The Tunis medina felt much more relaxed and the “come into my shop, no pressure, just look” that you were badgered with all the time in Hammamet just wasn’t present in Tunis.

Wednesday arrived. My final day in Tunisia. I always get jittery on the day I am due to fly out of anywhere. I have a big problem with getting to airports on time in that I must get there on time or the world will end and I find it very difficult to settle until I am checked in. To alleviate some of my obsessive compulsiveness I decided that it was time to go shopping for some tourist tat. Based on previous experiences the best place to do this was in Hammamet. I caught a taxi to the medina in Hammamet. You learn quickly not to expect working seatbelts when travelling around Tunisia and this taxi was no exception. The up side is that it only costs about 3TD for a ten minute taxi ride – far better value than in Bristol or any UK city.

I am generally anti-haggling. I like things to be a fixed price and I have never got the hang of asking for money off a product. In the souk this can only lead to problems and I think I might have been ripped off a little bit for the things that I bought. Ah well, it is all an experience at the end of the day. I got some tourist tat for James and Roz, Becky and Dave and Rosie as well as a replica traditional Tunisian door for myself. All in all a pretty successful trip.

My holiday was over and it was time to go home. I finally arrived back at my flat in Bristol at 3am Thursday morning, regretting not taking the morning off work and realising that in only four hours my alarm clock would be waking me up.

Simply one of the most amazing holidays I have ever had. There is so much to see and do in the country – far more than I thought there would have been. The contrast between the north and south is quite pronounced and the culture difference is something that the Tunisians will have to continue to work with to maintain harmony within the country. I would go back.

I would also like to go to some other African countries. High on my list are Morocco and Egypt.

Heh, I finished on part 7

Tuesday morning arrives and I am signed up for another day trip. This time the plan is to visit the north, more liberal and westernised, of the country including the capital city Tunis and the remains of Roman baths at Carthage. Another early start, 7am, followed by a tour of the hotels picking up people for the trip, and we were on our way up the A1 motorway to Carthage. As you travel along the motorway you notice people selling fruit from buckets on the hard shoulder as well as people walking along the hard shoulder waving bin bags. At first you wonder what they are doing and then you realise. Hitchhiking. They are walking along the motorway, nowhere near a junction, trying to hitch a lift while cars wiz past them at 120km/h. You wouldn’t get away with that in the UK!

After an hour on the road we arrive at our first destination. Scattered in-between the houses of the Tunisian upper middle classes you will find the remains of the ancient city of Carthage. The tour bus stopped outside the entrance to what is left of the Roman baths on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea. On this site the Romans constructed a huge bath house, the Antoinine Thermal baths, one of the largest built under the Roman empire. You have to be very careful taking photographs in this area as it is illegal to photograph the presidential palace, anything related to the military and policemen in uniform. Helpfully they located the presidential palace next to the Roman baths. The sheer scale of these remains is vast and the building when complete must have been formidable even by today’s standards. Many photos of marble carvings later we get back onto the coach and drive to our next destination, the picturesque town of Sidi Bou Said.

Characterised by its use of pale blue and white paint on the outside of all the buildings the town of Sidi Bou Said brings another dimension to the diversity of Tunisia. The town is a world apart from the desolate landscapes of the south of the country, showing off the opulence of the upper classes with a form of tourism seen in places such as Portmeirion in the UK. We were taken to the home of an aristocratic family that has now been converted into a museum with some very scary looking mannequins modelling traditional wedding dress. The views from the top of this house were remarkable, stretching over to the heart of the capital city.

Part 7 tomorrow including the Medina of Tunis, the Bardo Museum and my triumphant return to the UK.

The final leg of our two day Sahara adventure was upon us. A north easterly drive up the country brought us to the ancient city of Kairouan. Founded during the latter half of the first century AD the city of Kairouan is not Tunisia’s oldest Arab city but is also considered to be the fourth holiest city in the Islamic world, after Mecca, Medina and Jerusalem. Our coach stopped just outside the walls of the medina, close to the Great Mosque – one of the oldest, largest and most important mosques in the country. We didn’t have long at this stop, only fifteen minutes, which allowed me enough time to walk around the walls of the mosque taking photos of the minaret and the Lalla Rihana Gate. While we were there the call for afternoon prayers was sounded and I managed to capture a small section on my camera.

When our 15 minutes were up we were shuttled around to the other side of the medina where a carpet salesman proceeded to show us a vast array of Tunisian carpets. A small, 1 metre by 1.5 metre, carpet made of silk cost over £600! I decided not to make any purchases but that didn’t stop a few of the people on the tour flexing their credit cards.With the two day tour over I was returned to my hotel in the early evening. I was completely shattered but at the same time very satisfied that I had managed to see so much of Tunisia in such a short time. The south of the country is poor in money but rich in culture and tradition dating back many centuries.

Only three days of holiday left but stay tuned for Tunis, Carthage and Sidi Bou Said!

An old style rotary telephone rings its bell, a quaint noise not often heard in these days of digital electronics and automated systems. It is 5am on Sunday morning. I answer the phone and the night porter tells me something in an unfamiliar language. I interpret this as French and the message as “this is your wake-up call”. I thank him, in half-awake English, before stumbling blearily into the shower. I re-pack my overnight bag and then eat an unappetising breakfast in the hotel restaurant.

At 6am prompt the coach left the hotel towards Tozeur and Chott el Jerid, an immense salt lake stretching out in all directions as far as the eye can see. The vastness of the lake is difficult to describe and even the photos do not do it justice. Breathtaking is about the only word I can use. Unfortunately cloud cover prevented us from seeing the sun rise. A single road traverses the salt pan, which is covered with a shallow layer of water for only a few months of the year. Halfway along the road the coach stopped so that we could take photos and have another opportunity to buy stuff from a ramshackle gift shop. The lake provides another of Tunisia’s products – salt. Salt is extracted from the lake and exported to England for use on the roads in winter.

The coach stopped in the town of Tozeur and we were directed into horse drawn carts which whisked us off into the middle of a date palm oasis, covering around 10 square kilometres and planted with over 200,000 palms. The oasis also allows for other crops such as miniature bananas, figs, pomegranates and almonds growing under the date palm canopy. We were lead around the oasis by a guide who showed us an old man climb up a palm tree and do a little dance at the top.

Gosh, I didn’t realise I would have so much to write about, and I am only up to Sunday. More tomorrow!

Travelling into the south of Tunisia on the GP1 you will notice five litre containers of liquid being sold on the side of the road. They are usually stacked on top of planks of wood and barrels. These actually contain petrol that the locals have bought in Libya, where the price of fuel is very low, and then imported into Tunisia. There are hundreds of these unofficial petrol stations along the road. You pull up in your car and they will put a funnel into the fuel tank, tip the petrol into the funnel, and then charge you less than the Esso or Mobil price.

Matmata, named after the Berber tribe that inhabits the region, is the largest of the troglodyte communities in the world. Surrounded on all sides by rocky hills this village is quickly becoming a tourist trap with coach tours, such as the one I was on, visiting on a daily basis. We stopped in the village for a quick lunch and then got back on the bus, taking a more westerly direction, into the sand deserts beyond.

Along the road to Matmata you pass a planted oasis of date palms. Next to the oasis, and on the side of the road, men have set up small shacks and sell a drink made from the sap of the date palm tree mixed with sugar and water. The drink is sickly sweet but also very thin. It was drinkable but I wouldn’t want it in any vast quantity.

We eventually arrived at a camel stop just outside the town of Douz. We were invited to dress in traditional clothing and then set off on an hour long camel ride into the desert. All you could see was sand for miles around and I am glad that the guides knew where they were as I completely lost my sense of direction. Riding a camel is really quite uncomfortable, especially when the one following yours decides that your saddle, made of straw covered in sacking, is a pretty tasty snack! I collected some of the Saharan sand into a water bottle and brought it back to the UK with me.

A natural spring producing approximately 1000 litres of fresh water per second can support an oasis of around 300,000 date palm trees. However when a farmer wishes to plant more trees, or in areas where a natural spring can not be located, other water sources need to be found. In the Nefzaoua area they have dug down to the water table, 2.5km underground, and extract the water using large pumps. However when water is taken from that depth it is extremely hot, requiring cooling before it can be used to irrigate the oasis. The hot water is pumped to the top of a cooling tower where it then drops through the air while being broken up into water droplets. By the time it reaches ground level it will be warm rather than hot. Local people then do their laundry and also bathe in this warm water.

More tomorrow!