'Welcome to Tunisia - land of dreams and dunes!' bellowed the concierge as he greeted us at the doorway of Hotel Dalia. With his hands raised high, he looked like he was going to burst into opera. I had arrived in the coastal town of Hammamet which lies about forty miles south of the country's capital, Tunis. The hotel staff were very friendly, offering us a ready-prepared breakfast of ham, eggs, watermelon and mint tea. It was 10.30am and already the sun had been beating down with a vegeance. Earlier, when I had first stepped off the plane, I thought the oven-like heat was radiating from the plane's engines. When I started to make my way across the tarmac towards the terminal, I soon realized this wasn't the case - it was just hot as hell, especially to someone who had just arrived from 55f Ireland.

I was an independent traveler stuck amid a tour group in the lobby of the hotel. The tour guide seemed to think I was one of them and was getting quite annoyed when I refused to sign up for most of the stupid activities she had planned. I was here to see the Sahara Desert, haggle in bazaars, see where Star Wars was filmed, not do the Congo and Macarena after drinking six shots of tequila upside-down (I did actually end up doing this but we'll get to that later). The Hotel Dalia was only a three star but I think it was slightly underrated. Every day there was both a huge buffet breakfast, and later lunch. The food was excellent although it seemed that flies came with the main course sometimes as they were given full freedom to browse the open air menu. I usually scooped my food from the bottom of the pile to put my mind at ease.

Later on the first day I checked out the nearby beach, but the heat soon drove me back to the safety of the hotel pool and bar. Later I ventured into the medina, the old part of the city (or should I say older), and found myself a no-pressure guide for the equivalent of US$4.00. Usually these guys make commission from the many carpet and gift stores inside, but this guide let me browse at will. I ended up walking away with a small leather camel for about $7 after haggling with the shop-keeper for thirty minutes.

Wake-up call came early; 4:15am to be exact, and it hit me like a camel's hoof to the snout. I had done time in the British Bar the night before, where I had taken full advantage of the $2 drinks menu in an upside down state, then proceeded to become a willing participant in a Congo line and cringe-worthy Macarena. My head was hurting but I was almost too excited to notice - today we would visit Star Wars country.

Our group joined a convoy of four tour buses that would head south toward the Sahara Desert. Our first stop, though, was about one hour thirty minutes away. El Djem was home to the second largest Roman amphitheater in the world, the famous Coliseum being first. This particular arena had seated 35,000 in it's heyday in the third century. It was quite spectacular and we got a chance to explore below the structure which probably housed eager gladiators and very un-eager opponents. After I bought a stupid straw hat, a scorpion in formaldehyde, and got my picture taken beside a really smelly camel, we were again headed south.

We drove for about another hour before we reached an authentic, desert roadside cafe where I think I may have eaten camel; the menu was in French, although 'chameau' should have been a dead giveaway. We were headed towards Matmata now and the landscape was fast becoming desert. In the distance I could make out pockmarked hills. When I asked the tour guide what they were, she informed me they were actually where troglodytes lived; cave people, who had opted for a life underground for their choice of residence rather than become fried chicken on the surface. As we got further into Lucas-land I could see why he chose this area as the location for the opening chapters of A New Hope. A few sand crawlers and banthas certainly wouldn't look out of place in this terrain. It was barren except for some sparsely scattered shrubbery shooting up from the sand, but the landscape had its own character; its own unique beauty and charm with mountains and gorges as far as the eye could see.

Matmata itself was the setting for the smuggling town, Mos Eisley, in Star Wars. I got out of the tour bus and felt the heat hit me slam in the face - it felt like someone had just opened the gates of Hell. I got inside fast as I could as I felt myself getting dizzy in the 120f blazing sun. We ate at a restaurant renowned for hosting the entire film crew during their stay here in the seventies. I tried to imagine Harrison Ford arguing with his boss: 'You can write this crap George but you can't say it!' Or Anthony Daniels threatening to quit if he had to go into the midday sun in his golden metal suit one more time.

We got to visit one of the troglodyte dwellings where we were greeted by an old Berber woman at the door of her house. The door opened up into an open air courtyard. The structure reminded me of a bread bowl with no filling. There were rooms cut into the exterior walls and I was quite surprised to discover that these caves within caves had things like television sets and radios. Women in traditional garb sat here and there performing tasks like grinding grains and washing clothes; probably part of the show they performed regularly for the constant stream of tourists. After thanking our hosts we each made a small donation and left.

Next we were on our way south again to Kebili at the edge of the Sahara. On our way there we all marveled at the great Atlas Mountains in the distance that loomed like ancient stone guardians of the Sahara beyond. When we got to Kebili it was 6pm and the sun seemed to be showing a little more mercy, having lost some of it's strength. For this I was very grateful as we would now take an hour-long camel trek into the desert. We were met by the guides who gave us all head and face scarves and long cotton robes to keep us cool. It was time to mount our beasts. After doing so quite successfully I felt like Lawrence of Arabia but probably looked more like one of the Three Stooges.

I felt a serenity come over me as our group sailed into the open Sahara . The camel that I was riding seemed so placid and good-natured. During our hour spent alone I grew quite fond of him and wondered if I could slip him past immigration. I just hoped the handlers treated these animals well. The Sahara trip was probably the itinerary highlight

On to Hotel Le Dune in Leftzoua where I would get some much needed rest. The hotel was nestled among desert and palm trees that stretched beyond the horizon. Wake-up call came at the same time as the previous morning. The tour bus convoy made its way across Chott El Djerid - a massive salt lake that covers 5000 sq km. This, for me, was the scenery spectacular of the trip. People have claimed to see mirages here, or fata morganas. The rising heat distorts images in the distance on the sprawling plane rather than show us something that doesn't exist at all.

The town of Tozour was where we would begin the horse-drawn carriage ride through the heart of the oasis. At the other side we were met by a convoy of jeeps that would then drive us to Chebika where the English Patient was filmed. I must say the place was definitely more enjoyable than the movie - it was beautiful. We visited some old Roman ruins where we were greeted by hordes of barefoot local children selling necklaces and salt rocks. We descended upon a valley where some of us took turns standing underneath a waterfall to seek refuge from the heat. The force of the water cascading from high above was a bit to much for me to take, but it cooled me off for a while.

It was time to head north-east now and back to Hammamet, but we still had another stop to make - the holy city of Kairouan. On the way there we passed through the mines of Metlawi, the product of Frenchman Philip Thomas. We stopped at another restaurant were we had a dinner of cous cous then proceeded to Kairouan. I bought a carpet at one of the factory stores here for 450 dinar which was to be mailed to me some months later.

I spent the last few days hanging out in the British Bar and socializing with a lot of the people who went on the tour with me. Some of them were quite nice and we now had a lot to talk about. The people of Tunisia I found very hospitable also, although some of the women commented that the local men would make their admiration for them blatantly obvious. Coming through customs I regretted buying so many pieces of pottery as I was hit with a huge surcharge that went by weight. I never did receive that carpet.