The Trip that Almost Wasn’t

“Tunisia – it’s wonderful, and so close,” they advised. “You should go.”

Why not?  I had never been, and the flight from Nice (my airport) is just 1 ½ hours in duration.

I booked a 10-day “discovery” trip. 

Ruins at Carthage, ancient site founded by Phoenician settlers in the 9th century BC, later destroyed and rebuilt by Romans.

Day # 1, Highlights of Carthage, the ancient archeological site dating back to 900 BC,  and an all-too-quick visit to  Sidi Bou Said, the picturesque blue-and-white town.

Sidi Bou Said

Days #2 and 3, HOSPITAL. I did not book a tour of Tunisian medical facilities.  This was not on the itinerary.  But I had terrible stomach pains during the night.  By morning I knew I was not fit for sightseeing.  I asked the hotel to call a doctor.

An affable doctor who spoke perfect English arrived in record time. He told me his name in English means “falling star.” Appropriate. I felt my star had plunged.

I related my history of intestinal obstruction – two previous instances and two surgeries.  Dr. Falling Star whisked me off to his clinic, then had a charming assistant accompany me to a lab for a blood test, and on to another facility for X-ray and echography.  Doctors, lab assistants, technicians, secretaries, drivers – all were so kind, considerate, understanding. 

Verdict:  Another obstruction.  I was devastated.  My fabulous trip down the drain and yet another surgery.  I assumed I could return to France for treatment, but was told it would be too dangerous to fly. ???

Hospital Staff at Polyclinique Les Berges du Lac, Tunis

This news almost sent me flying.  I was worried, nervous, depressed. My angel assistant accompanied me to the hospital where I was given a spacious private room and TLC from the hospital staff.  Their compassion was soothing in this troubled, frightening time.

A gastroenterologist examined me and evaluated the situation.  Not so fast with surgery, he declared.  This bit of good news brightened my spirits.  Think positive, I told myself. 

He ordered  a scan, actually many scans. I had to drink an enormous quantity of a mysterious liquid.  Throughout  the night, every two hours, I had another intestinal scan.

In the wee hours, after scan #3, a miracle:  the blockage had vanished.  All OK.

What an enormous relief, no surgery! My star surged.  I did need to spend a day in the hospital to make sure all was in order.  I was wiped out and slept most of the day, with the exception of a welcome interruption.  A staff member from the travel agency arrived bearing an outstanding bouquet of roses.   I was overwhelmed with the blossoms and the thoughtfulness.

The crisis had been avoided. What next?  I asked the doctor if I could continue my trip or if it would  be better to go home to France. “It’s up to you.” 


A no brainer.  I came to see Tunisia and would travel on

With two missed days, the itinerary had to be altered.  The agency felt that after this episode, I should eliminate travel to southern Tunisia as originally planned (lengthy travel times) and focus on the north where there was plenty to experience.  

Tunisia Part II: Grand Mosque in Kairouan.

This meant lots of extra work in rebooking and rescheduling.  I had numerous phone calls and What’s App messages with agent Joella who patiently and diligently rearranged all. Thank you, Joella.

I was most impressed with my medical care in Tunisia –  very thorough, professional, reassuring.  And, cheap.  My 2-night, 2-day stay in the hospital, including scans, medications, doctor’s fees : 798 euros or $925. 

Compare that to the $6,780 I paid a few years ago for a night in observation in a San Francisco hospital after a bad fall. Details: “I left my $ in San Francisco”

Northern Tunisia is fun and fascinating. Inshallah. I will return to Tunisia to explore the south.

Tunisia Part II: Markets and souks

Don’t miss Tunisia Part II: Mosaics, Markets, Souks – and cats.  To be followed by Part III: Food, Fabulous Tunisian Food.

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Sculpture Paradise in the Wilderness

It’s a magical place, hidden away from the distractions of a hectic world, a place where nature and calmness reign. A place to relish the natural world and art:

Joyful, fanciful, captivating sculptures

Some are huge.  Some are small.  But all ooze a vibrant, happy spirit.

“Tra i Mondi” (between the worlds) is a secluded sculpture park tucked away amidst olive trees, wild herbs, flowers and forests high above the Mediterranean in northern Italy.

This is artist Carin Grudda’s world. Grudda is a master of sculpture, painting, graphic art, collage and more.  Her works have been exhibited throughout the world. She was represented at the Venice Biennale in 2011.

“Here Somewhere Else.” Zebra sculpture, Carin and Joshy.

My small group visit began with “Here Somewhere Else,” a bronze zebra which Carin calls her symbol. She had a commission to do a huge painting on Namibia. Never having been to the African nation, she launched into research and came across a photo of a tiny drawing on rocks featuring a zebra in a precarious place.

 “I was thrilled.  I felt his spirit.”  He charged on.  “He touched me by not being timid…Somewhere else is freedom.”  The painting was a success.  Two more were ordered.  She decided the zebra needed to go big in bronze.

In addition to art and art history, Carin studied philosophy which, as with the zebra,  plays a role in her creations.  She summed up the  thoughts, feelings and spirit guiding her works, borrowing a phrase from Nietzsche, “to light a star once a day.”

We follow her from sculpture to sculpture.  Joshy,  a big rambunctious canine, is the tour mascot. The 14-month-old Waeller, a new breed developed in Germany, fits right in.  His antics bring smiles, as do many of the sculptures.

“Grande Donna” (above) is how small children see their mothers, she explains. “Isabella Koffer Schuh,” (Isabella Suitcase Shoe), another large, bronze female but with a suitcase for a foot, was created during the pandemic.   We are all weighted down with baggage, the burdens of daily life, Carin says.  “We are hindered from running away, but we must escape.”  

Noisy, happy frogs in nearby ponds serenade us as we follow Carin up and down the three levels of the park.  The views along the way are as inspiring as the sculptures — and Carin.  She is exuberant, passionate, warm and delightful. No wonder these sculptures are so enchanting. 

Tiny village of Lingueglietta in the distance.

Some works are inspired by mythology, such as two representations of Phoenix, symbolizing birth and renewal.  Bronze pigs, chickens, cats and sheep also reside in the park. The surfaces of many are imbedded with symbols. Everything has a meaning.

Each of her creations begins small, a  miniature. After a year if she is still in love with it, it can grow into an immense sculpture in bronze, some weighing up to a thousand kilos.

Hop on a sculpture for a ride. Her works are meant to be touched and enjoyed. Note symbols on sculpture… and playful Joshy in background.

Bronze casting is a monumental feat. The laborious process is explained on her web site. After making a prototype model, “a casting  mold is  made of sand mixed with resin, a container for the negative form of the model looking like a box you can open up. The model is taken out of this casting mold, leaving a cavity which the model – or rather its shape – has impressed into it.

“The casting mold is then closed up with a hole on top connected to the cavity. The liquid bronze is poured through this hole, filling out the cavity left by model.

“The casting of bronze is an exhausting occupation. This is why the next step after casting the liquid bronze is opening a bottle of beer. The time it takes to drink a beer is usually enough to cool down the bronze inside the casting mold.”

Carin works with foundries in Turin, Milan and Rome where her creations come to life in bronze. They may find their home in the park, but they will be on the move to exhibitions near and far. 

The Blue Cat is one of several like this now at home in other places. Carin is a cat lover. Her hefty black cat Mollie happily roams amidst the bronzes. “You can’t educate cats. You can’t correct them. They are free,” she says.

Carin was born in Gudensberg, Germany, in 1953.  With her husband, Gunter, she has made her home in the Italian hills above the Ligurian coast since 2,000. “I had to have this park.  At a certain point I didn’t know where to put all this stuff.  I chose this place because it’s untouched nature.”

She’s happy she decided on Italy.  “I have borrowed Italian identity.  I feel so good here. It’s a chance to fly.  It changed my life. ”

“Tra i Mondi” between the worlds, the park name,  can refer to the different worlds of expats, in her case, Germany and Italy.  But it can be much more, she says, an overall feeling that you don’t belong. 

Our visit ended with lunch al fresco in the park, beginning with a selection of cheeses produced by neighboring farmers and a fabulous dark nut bread made by Carin.  She gave me the recipe which I will attempt.   She also made two delicious cakes for our dessert. 

Cooking and baking, she says, “are the same for me as art, creative.”

The sculptures, surroundings, scenery and sounds make for an unforgettable and joyous afternoon. I hated to leave this happy place, which my friend Gerlinde called a “little paradise in the wilderness.” 

Visits to the park can be arranged by appointment.
More information: park@carin-grudda.de and www.carin-grudda.de  Mobil: +39 347 2288 928

Carin’s bread

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TODAY’s TASTE. I was hoping to post Carin’s yummy bread recipe, but I want to try it first. Meanwhile, try this, LECSO (Hungarian Ratatouille), a tribute to Hungary and its new pro-European prime minister, Peter Magyar. Yeah Hungary!

And, for more tasty recipes click  here.

Carin is about much more than sculpture as seen during a visit to her studio. Many of her paintings are featured on her web site, http://www.carin-grudda.de

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Citrus Wonderland in Menton

Lemons. Oranges.  Tons and tons of citrus fruit for sale at bargain prices. Some 140 tons were used to decorate huge, elaborate creations in Menton, the French city of lemons. Fruit is attached to metal sculpture frames, some reaching 9 meters or 30 feet in height, with about a million rubber bands.

The town’s annual two-week long lemon festival (Fête du Citron) starring the fruit masterpieces just ended.  Usable leftovers can be purchased at a special market.

Wonders of life” was the theme of the 2026 lemon festival. Above, Mother Earth.

The festival is a windfall for the Mediterranean town of 30,000.  Tourists, about 300,000 this year, come from near and far.  When the orange  and yellow sculptures are dismantled, the parade stands torn down, and inner-city streets open again, locals breathe a  huge sigh of relief.  Menton is theirs again.

But they too enjoy the festivities. The Fête du Citron is much more than the awesome citrus constructions.  Parades, a crafts market, orchard and garden tours, bands – all are on the festival agenda.  And, orchids. The Palais de l’Europe, just adjacent to the gardens with the sculptures, houses a lavish orchid exhibit.

Orchids too are offered at reduced prices after the festival. I stood in line outside waiting for the  sale to open, then followed the crowd to the long table where the beauties were offered. 

Orchid sale and my prize, “Sunshine.”

Too many people. Too few orchids.  Many must have been offered to staff  before the public sale.  Nonetheless I came home with a large specimen.  I was told the blossoms won’t  last much longer.  My challenge – to get my treasure, whom I have named  “Sunshine,”  to bloom again next year. (Orchid tips welcome)

All manner of orchids, including air orchids, to admire. Those circles are an aquatic plant from the Amazon.

But it’s lemons, nor orchids for which Menton is famous.  Not your ordinary grocery store lemons.  Menton lemons are a protected, high-quality variety — too valuable and production too limited for display  construction.  Neighbor Spain is the source.

Menton lemons and lemonade.

Lemon fame dates back centuries.  The town’s mild microclimate  made its lemons famous throughout Europe in the 19th century. The fruit was an  important addition to the economy.  And, since 1933 the yellow fruit has been honored with a Fête du Citron.

“In Menton, the sea is blue, the sun is gold, and the lemons shine like lanterns.”

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Food Adventures in Madagascar

Food is a hot topic in travel these days.  More and more destinations offer food tours with samplings of tasty street goodies.

Being a dedicated foodie, upon arrival in Madagascar (Mada) last summer, I naively inquired  about a food tour.  “Not here,” announced Ravi, a guide and driver.  “People get sick.  They reuse the cooking oil.”

Forget street food, as well as haute cuisine and Michelin star restaurants. I did, however,  enjoy some delicious dining during my stay in the country,  the fifth  poorest in the world.

Food prep starts early in Madagascar

I loved visiting the markets, taking photos of the friendly vendors, and learning about Mada food.

Let’s start with rice. “We must eat rice three times per day,”  declared Emanuel, my guide at a market in  Antananarivo (Tana), the country capital.  We passed numerous rice stands with numerous kinds of rice.  “But this is not enough.  We also import rice from China and India,”  he added.

Hard to believe. During my first excursion in Mada, to a lemur park about  25 kilometers from Tana, we passed miles of rice paddies. However, on another excursion we passed brick factories on the river banks. Bricks replaced rice; I was told. “You can make more money with bricks.”  

Zebu are to Madagascar what reindeer are to Norway.  The island’s domestic cattle originally came  from South Asia.  They serve as a source of meat, as well as a beast of burden. The humped cattle are a symbol of wealth and status, and play an essential role in ceremonies and sacrificial rituals (see previous post, Madagascar’s Intriguing Ancestor Rituals) Popular souvenirs – jewelry, salad tongs, bowls, decorative objects –  are made of zebu horns. The color and grain of the horns vary, so each piece has a distinct pattern.

I am not a hearty meat eater, but twice I savored zebu filet.  Exquisite.  Filet is not on the menu at market food stalls,  but zebu stomach and feet are, both considered delicacies. 

 Many market stands are “fast food” depots, offering a variety of prepared dishes at reasonable prices.  Shoppers stop for a meal at the markets.  “We like to eat here.  It’s easier than going home to cook,” I was told.  

My guide went for the stomach and feet. I was tempted by a colorful concoction of pasta and veggies.

Cassava leaves are an essential ingredient in many Malagasy dishes, especially the national favorite, ravitoto.  Leaves can be purchased pre ground at the market. 

I watched as women mixed the leaves with coconut milk, grated coconut, water,  and then squeezed it all dry, before mixing it with meat and vegetables for cooking.  This was one of many ready-to-eat offerings at the market. 

In Nosy Be, the Mada resort town where I spent several days,  a brochette stand is a sensation.  Customers line up in the evening for take-home brochettes, about 11 US cents each.  The tiny stand was started by the mother of some of the workers years ago.  It’s grown into a thriving family business, employing daughters,  granddaughters and cousins, all at work cutting  up 25 kilos of zebu every day, then assembling the brochettes with the meat, green papaya, and more.   

As an island nation, Madagascar offers a variety of fish and other sea creatures for the dinner plate. I visited a fishing village where thousands of sardines were drying in the sun.

My all time favorite seafood in Mada: camarons, a type of large gamba from the waters of  nearby Mozambique.  To die for, along with zebu filet.

This was my last night treat at the Sakamanga  (blue cat) hotel in Tana.  The menu selections there were several notches up from restaurant food I had elsewhere.  The restaurant was bustling. Reservations a must. 

The hotel itself could be a tourist attraction, its walls decorated with framed old newspaper front pages and photos, and hallways filled with ancient Malagasy treasures.

Why the hotel name meaning blue cat?  No one could tell me.  As a childless cat lady, I was delighted to spot two curled up kitties on an office chair,  as well as other cats during my travels.  Malagasy like felines, I learned.

No street food, but plenty of other delectable edibles in Mada, and even more to nourish the spirit. I loved my adventures there. For more, see my previous posts: Discovering the Unique Wonder of Madagascar and Madagascar’s Intriguing Ancestor Rituals

If not a Tales and Travel follower, please sign up here. Trust me. It’s safe. Your address is not shared. 

Malagasy John Delmas organizes and guides visits to Madgascar. John was my guide/driver for two days. He was super, taught me lots. Contact his company. https://www.mada-discovery-travels.com

Ravi Matadeen rents made-in-Madagasar unique vehicles for self drive trips. http://www.selfdrivemadagascar.com.

I booked my African adventure, South Africa (Kruger) and Madagascar, with Worldwide Quest, http://www.worldwidequest.com


Today’s Taste. No new recipe, but one from the past, CHICKEN MAFE. It’s not a Malagasy recipe, but a West African speciality. I have made it several times for African dinner parties and it’s always a hit. Peanuts are the secret ingredient. For more tasty recipes, click  here.

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Madagascar’s Intriguing Ancestor Rituals

Turning of the Bones.  Sounds bizarre and morbid.  “Famadihana,” exhuming the bones of deceased relatives, is a culturally ingrained ritual in Madagascar (Mada).  Five to seven years after death, families exhume the bones of a beloved ancestor, wrap the bones in fresh cloth, and celebrate before reburial. It is a sign of love and respect for the deceased.

Celebrants dancing with the wrapped remains of ancestors

There’s dancing with the wrapped ancestors, eating and lots of drinking – a joyous, festive occasion.  The celebrations, which last from one to three days or longer, are a duty, a must for relatives of the dead to host.   And, they are expensive, costing up to a year’s earnings.

Ravi Matadeen, who rents self-drive vehicles in Antananarivo, the capital of Mada, told of one of his employees who was under fierce pressure from relatives to host a Famadihana for his mother.   The employee was distraught.  He could not afford it.  “I told him I would pay,” Ravi said.  

Family graves are huge, with remains of up to 100 persons. At Famadihana, all the bones in the grave are exhumed.

Young people want to resist the ancient custom, he explained, but they are under so much pressure they often must comply.  “We must do it,” a 41-year-old guide told me.

Madagascar, the fourth largest island in the world, has 22 distinct regions and 18 different ethnic groups.  Customs differ within the groups, but Famadihana is common with several groups.  Half of the population is Christian, but many also practice Turning of the Bones. 

I was intrigued, fascinated with Famadihana, and many other spooky Mada customs.  I did not attend a bones ceremony, a private, sacred ritual, not an event where tourists are usually welcome.  Many fear outsiders will disturb the spirits.

Sacred Banyan tree

But, I was welcome to visit a sacred tree where spirits live. After a lengthy drive down a rutted dirt road through a  jungle-like forest, there it was – a huge, tangled mass of roots, the Banyan Sacred Tree, planted in 1836 by the queen of the Sakalava tribe.

Malagasy come here to ask the spirit of the tree to fulfill a wish, grant them a favor, I learned.  A woman may ask to find a husband, for example.  Some may request  a new car. 

 Whatever, believers must walk around the sacred tree, as well as  make offerings, such as food items, to the tree.  If their wish is fulfilled, they must return to the tree and sacrifice a cow. (My wish has not been granted.  A cow is spared.) 

Female visitors must wear a pareo to walk around the tree. The garb can be rented at the site. At right, gifts left under the tree for the spirit.

Cutting or climbing this sacred tree is a fady (taboo), and Madagascar is loaded with fady.   Taboos vary with regions, ethnic groups, even within a family. Breaking  a fady is said to bring misfortune, bad luck.

Certain food items are a fady for some. A guide told me he does not eat pork. Eels are considered sacred in certain areas and not to be consumed. For many, it is a fady to point at a tomb or grave, to sit on a pillow, to sleep with your head facing north.  In some places dogs are a fady. 

This statue marks the site where a sacred rock once stood.

I visited Sakatia island where dogs are taboo. The guide explained that many years ago dogs were used on the island to chase and help capture natives who were to become slaves. “That’s why the people here hate dogs,” he explained.  “I don’t like dogs either,” he said, “but it depends on your ethnic background.” 

Dogs are taboo on Sakatia island. Not so turtles. Giant species swim in surrounding waters where I was thrilled to snorkel with them.

Fady are associated with circumcision, a rite of passage in Mada. It is performed by a traditional circumciser, often using bamboo and medicinal plants, and only on boys – no female circumcision in Mada.

An astrologer must be consulted to set an auspicious date.  Rituals, cow sacrifices and feasting are involved.  Guides told me as a sign of love the grandfather often eats the foreskin with a banana.  In some areas, the foreskin is placed on top of a gun and shot into the air.

There is a movement underway in some parts of the island nation to promote more sanitary circumcision.  Signs advertise “American circumcision.  No blood.”

Zebu are herded through a lane of baobab trees. Six of the world’s eight species of baobab thrive in Mada. Many of the trees are sacred, associated with ancestral spirits and taboos.

Intriguing, unusual customs are just one of the multitude of  wonders of Madagascar.  Adventure, wildlife, no crowds, stunning landscapes. Madagascar is mesmerizing.  See my previous post,  Discovering the Unique Wonders of Madagascar, for more on this stellar destination.

I am a foodie.  Madagascar is not the place for Michelin star dining, but its markets and food customs are remarkable. The beef is extraordinary, in my opinion.  Twice I  treated myself to zebu filet —  best steaks ever.  More about zebu, the cattle of Madagascar, and Mada cuisine in my next post.  

If not a Tales and Travel follower, please sign up here. Trust me. It’s safe. Your address is not shared. 

Malagasy John Delmas organizes and guides visits to Madgascar. John was my guide/driver for two days. He was super, taught me lots. Contact his company. https://www.mada-discovery-travels.com

Ravi Matadeen rents made-in-Madagasar unique vehicles for self drive trips. http://www.selfdrivemadagascar.com.

I booked my African adventure, South Africa (Kruger) and Madagascar, with Worldwide Quest, http://www.worldwidequest.com

Today’s Taste: I spent the holidays in Italy, hence a yummy pasta recipe : Fusilli with Broccoli and Gorgonzola Sauce  For more tasty recipes, click here.

I welcome comments.

8 responses to “Madagascar’s Intriguing Ancestor Rituals”

  1. Kate Barker

    Salut Leah,

    Lovely article for me today as my knee heels and I enjoy a bit of armchair traveler. I’ve not travelled all that much outside of Europe and the states so most of my holy relics have been visited in varies churches and cathedrals. Amusing how many commonalities are found within cultures that we typically think of as vastly different.

    1. I am happy to know you enjoyed the article. It is always interesting to learn about other cultures, and more even interesting, surprising, to see the commonalities as you mentioned.

  2. cloudradiantd553459bf1

    Hi Leah,
    It is quite interesting to read about this ritual, I never read of some similar traditions before.
    In Italy it is common to exhume bones of deceased people a few years after the burial, mostly for reorganizing space in the cemetery, but there are no rituals. I can see that they have quite a dedication for the bodies of their families.
    It is sad that dogs have such a negative connotation. I would say that it was the men behind those dogs to be blamed for capturing people to become slaves. It sounds like a sort of superstition to me.
    When I read the other article about Madascar while I was staying in your home, I then went for a walk to the Parc du Cap Martin and was delighted to see three baobab trees in there 🙂

    1. These customs, rituals are indeed interesting. Thanks for pointing out the baobab trees in my park. I never noticed, but will surely look for them next time I take a walk there.

  3. Wow, Leah, incredible experiences you had!

    1. Yes, fun and fascinating. Keeps me going.

  4. Steve Koester

    I’m intrigued, I really would like to travel to Madagascar. I’ve had enough encounters with dogs on my travels to appreciate Sakatia island taboo. The guide’s comment suggesting that the taboo may have had its origins from when dogs were used to chase and help capture natives who were to become slaves, may help explain it. Like many cultural taboos it may have other positive consequences. It’s interesting how many cultures have celebrations to honor the dead. I liked to have a couple of baobab trees in my yard. I’m sorry your wish did not come to pass, but it saved you from having to go back, purchase a cow and sacrifice it. That would have been an expensive ordeal.

    1. Mada would be a great destination for you and Tai. Rent one of those self-drive vehicles for exciting adventure. Not just the expense if my wish had been fulfilled — no way I could have sacrificed a cow.

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