Sicily to Tunisia
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A night in Cefalu is a very memorable one. An old terracotta tiled town clustered beneath the impressive rock is quietly watching the semi final between Italy and Germany. We are anchored in the bay just off the old stone houses lining the shore and venture into the village to have a drink. When Italy won a place in the final, the narrow cobblestone laneways suddenly erupted and hundreds of people came from nowhere on their vespers and in their cars, blowing horns and flags flying. We were on the foot path and quickly moved, as this was now a one way speed track and remained that way all night.
After a swim in the perfect clear blue water and a coffee and croissant ashore, we climb the Rocca Cefalu; some are even silly enough to go to the top. Palermo is the next stop, and a very short one in this heat, as the habour is toxic to the lungs and the men have an aversion to shopping.
Our forecast tells us wind is on the way and quite by accident we enter the port of Femmine a small port surrounded by fishing boats. They allow us to tie up to the massive buoy in the middle of the small harbour jammed between the local fishing boats coming and going all night, so when the Sirocco wind hits in the night we are very safe. Fish market, cappuccino and ham-filled croissant, this is Sicily a- la-naturale. The only yacht in the bay, we are made very welcome with our Australian flag and still receive apologies for our loss to Italy, but lots of admiration for our team.
Heading for Scopello the picturesque Tuna Factory bay the Sirocco wind once again takes us by surprise at 40 knots. This vicious hot dry wind off the African coast is a local thing and not forecasted, so we batten down and head for Castellammare for shelter. I'm not sure why but the sea is freezing cold, I can only guess that's it something to do with underwater springs. Jasmine and Young Ian have now left us and the next morning in flat seas we head around the cape for Trapani our departure point for North Africa. 
A quick look at the impressive palaces and churches and as the wind is very
favourable Ian is keen to keep going.
Our crossing to North Africa, Tunisia, is 120 miles and a perfect reach taking us 16 hours. I never look forward to the night crossings but the thrill of getting to Tunisia is all that matters. I take my turn at watching through the night under a near full moon, it's not uncomfortable but not exactly calm either. Sidi Bou Said is our port of entry and even though our entry papers take all day including our visas they are very polite and friendly. Our approach is of excitement at the sight of bright green seas, all white houses with blue appointed doors.
The humidity of Italy has gone and a very pleasant dry heat replaces it. Sidi Bou Said, up high from the marina, is a big culture shock. Famous for its white-washed houses and studded blue doors we are very quick to find an impressive bar over looking the harbour only to find its alcohol free and Nick and Ian are bewildered as to what to order. Girls sip soft drinks and young men sit nearby smoking sheeshas, the tall elaborately decorated water (or hubble bubble) pipes filled with flavoured tobacco. We move very quickly
to find a bar with TV to watch the World Cup Final.
After negotiations for a taxi for a half day we visit nearby Carthage, 814 BC, where the Punic and Roman remains bear witness to these ancient civilisations and their demise. Little remains of the Punic Citadel so fierce in resisting the Roman invasion. The Romans then rebuilt a grand forum on the same site, now demolished to its foundations. Not a lot remains but its still a thrill to be here and imaging what it was like in a time we can't imagine.
Tunis is a dusty place but we did enjoy the Medina, the taxi drive is the most fun we have all day. Even on the highway with windows down they shout at each other at high speed.
Today sailing north along the top of the coast we are heading for Bizerte after a night anchored off a white sandy beach. Bizerte was the last foothold for the French before they were finally kicked out of Tunisia in 1963.
Keeping up with washing is our only demise, inside-out undies for the men and the women are off to the Hammam for a scrub.
It is a pleasure to be in a country with realistic fuel prices. Diesel in
Tunisia is Aus .73 cents a litre although this is high compared to the .45 cents we paid 2 years ago