Tunisian village is oasis of vivid color, mellow pace

SIDI BOU SAID, Tunisia — There's something elusive and magical about the light in Sidi Bou Said. In the early morning, the sunlight is gentle, sparkling off the pale sea and shining over the labyrinth of white houses.

In the hot afternoon, the North African sun is mesmerizing. It bathes the bougainvillea, the cacti and the cobblestone streets, lulling the hillside village to sleep.

Sidi Bou Said's light and colors have lured countless painters from Europe to cross the Mediterranean. Paul Klee came here on his breakthrough 1914 trip through Tunisia. He was 35, but before seeing Tunisia he hadn't considered himself an artist.

"Color has taken hold of me; no longer do I have to chase after it," Klee wrote. "Color and I am one. I am a painter."

Klee and August Macke, who traveled with him, were a few of the European painters inspired by the sunlight's play over the white-and-blue town on a red cliff.

Sidi Bou Said is a 20-minute taxi ride outside the country's crowded, noisy capital of Tunis, where dust mingles with the smell of motorbike gasoline. The village seems far away, a refuge of fresh and quiet on the Gulf of Tunis.

There's not much to do, aside from browsing the street markets for stone baubles, soft leather sandals or filigree bird cages adorned with turquoise beads.

But it's a paradise for the lazy, the person whose idea of a perfect afternoon is just hanging out. I sat for hours reading a book on the terrace of Sidi Chabaane, a cafe perched on a palm-covered cliff that tumbles down to a tiny port.

Two mothers in headscarves sat next to me, silent in the heat, sipping from glass bottles of Coca Cola. A group of Parisian students flirted and talked about politics.

Religious and artistic heritage

Sidi Bou Said was named for a Sufi holy man from the 13th century — legend has it that he could walk on water and perform other miracles. The city was closed to non-Muslims until the 1820s. From then on, its fame grew, and painters, musicians and writers from Europe — including Simone de Beauvoir, Colette and Andre Gide — visited and were charmed.

Tunisia's topography also has lured artists of a different sort, Hollywood filmmakers, particularly those shooting adventure stories. "Raiders of the Lost Ark," "The English Patient" and the last "Star Wars" entry were all filmed at least in part on location in Tunisia.

But tourism in Tunisia has taken a hit in recent months, starting with the Sept. 11 terrorism attacks in the United States. Travelers also stayed away after an April explosion at an ancient synagogue killed 19 people, 10 of them German tourists.

A North African palace

Early in the last century, Baron Rodolphe d'Erlanger, a French painter and musicologist, came to rest and win back his health. He decided to stay, and he changed the city's fate.

d'Erlanger built a breathtaking palace, importing Italian and Spanish marble and rare woods. It took a decade to build his dream house, a tribute to the arched, ornate architecture of North Africa.

A flower-lined walkway leads to the front door. Inside, there are fountains for scented water, and intimate nooks for the small musical gatherings that he sponsored.

The white ceilings are carved into elaborate patterned arches, and pale, checkered marble tiles cover the floor. The palace is filled with the baron's paintings from an earlier era in Tunisia, when the national dress was a flowing djellaba, not jeans and a leather jacket. Tunisia has become one of the most secular countries in the Arab world, and most people now wear Western clothes.

Part of the house has been converted to a museum of North African musical instruments, with glass display cases of carved lutes, drums and zithers. d'Erlanger loved the region's music and left behind volumes of writing about it.

He was also behind an aesthetic decision that changed the way the city looked. Any visitor will be struck by the village's colors. The houses are white, and the doors and shutters are painted a deep azure. That blue was d'Erlanger's idea.

Sidi Bou Said has some of the world's most beautiful doors. They're wooden, ancient, and covered with iron studs arranged in semiabstract patterns like swirls, leaves, stars and arrows.

When you're wandering through the white maze of streets — up stairs, down stairs, into dead ends, accidentally crossing into someone's private yard — an unusual pattern on a blue door is sometimes the only way to remember where you are.

These days the village is somewhat touristy, but it's so beautiful that it's possible to overlook the busloads of European tourists who fill the streets in the afternoon, looking for a break from their beach resorts. Like the famous visitors from an earlier era, they're seeking inspiration from the town's colors, and from the easygoing villagers.