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By John Cary Jr., Assoc. AIA Although well warned of the extreme heat and corresponding aroma of the Mediterranean region—specifically Venice, where I would be studying—my 10-week itinerary last summer included travel throughout Italy, the island country of Malta, and the desert country of Tunisia in North Africa. Like many aspiring architects, I spent the majority of my time exploring northern and central Italy. Just a short distance away, however, Malta and Tunisia share cultural heritage with Italy, making them well worth a more extended visit. Separated from Italy and each other by less than 100 kilometers, the architecture, cuisine, dress, and language often bear common threads, while at other times feel worlds apart. Roughly twice the size of Washington, DC, Malta gained its independence from Britain in the mid-1960s. The spoken language of Maltese remains the only recognized dialect of Arabic, combined with other languages such as English and Italian. Its rich maritime history reaches back hundreds of years illustrated in the islands' dozens of churches, fortifications, and museums. Juxtaposing a popular view of one fortress is a fifteen-story casino, one of the many products of the tourist industry that dominates the island. Half a dozen t-cranes, which line the hotel-dense coastline, are a sure sign of more to come. Remnants of British rule are readily visible, primarily through the islands' infrastructure. Its most distinguishing features are its unique boats and buses. Bearing bold colors of red, yellow, green, and blue, as well as decorative eyes at their bows to lead the way, the boats add brilliant color to the already picture-perfect blue seawater. Their uniqueness is second only to the islands' tri-color buses, trimmed with well-polished chrome, placards, and stickers. Each has its distinguishing features along with an overly personable driver. Rolling along the main strips of the waterfront or rugged inland roads, they afford a unique view of the island and an earful of Maltese beach music. After a few days and a short flight, my adventure continued into northern Tunisia. Located due west of Malta on the northern coast of Africa, Tunisia is home to a variety of Berber, Islamic, Jerban, Punic, Roman, and European architecture, as well as expanses of the vast Sahara desert. Parts of the country may be most familiar as the setting for films such as Star Wars, The English Patient, and The Life of Brian, although those sites are well off the beaten path. My accommodations in Tunis were located within a short walk of the medina, once the cultural heart of the city. Strangely like many an Italian cobblestone street, the narrow streets of the medina wind for what feels like miles through a blur of marketplaces, pushing everything from Tunisian rugs to spices and clothing. Near the center is the Mosque of Youssef Dey, the first Ottoman-style mosque built in Tunis, distinguishable by its octagonal minaret and green-tile roof. A few dollars afforded me—a tourist—a quick glimpse into its interior gathering space during which time I was hustled by street children with flawless English, promising to lead me to the 'best viewing areas' around back for just a few more coins. Another day, a short taxi ride dropped me off just outside Tunis at the acclaimed Bardo Museum, which houses countless Punic, Roman, early Christian, and Islamic exhibits. While many of its mosaics, relocated from Carthage, are understandably considered among the finest in the world, the building itself is a marvel, having first been constructed as a palace in the 17th-century. A slightly longer train ride south along the coast carried me to the former French fortress of Sousse, now the country's third-largest city. As I exited the air-conditioned train car, I was nearly overcome by the blazing heat. Convinced that I was simply standing within reach of the engine wash, I was quickly informed otherwise. A seemingly endless walk to my accommodations landed me just inside the old thick fortress walls, a stone's throw from the sea. Early one evening, I watched from the hostel's rooftop terrace nervously as the sky turned a deep purple when the dry desert air clashed with the sea moisture, unleashing a powerful thunderstorm. The whitewashed fortress and city walls stood strong in the face of the contrasting, dark, stormy skies, which soon became another one of many forces they had withstood. Like a good architecture student, I spent most days with a sketchbook and pen close at hand. As the weeks passed, however, I was rarely inclined to utilize them feeling that they often limited my ability to simply enjoy the place. My architecture travel companions, on the other hand, were consistently quick to document virtually every detail of each space we visited. Still, my most memorable experiences were not those captured on the pages of my sketchbook, nor those frozen in prints or slides, but those experiences that exposed the links and layers between the Islamic and Maltese cultures as well as the Italian culture with which I am most familiar. John Cary Jr., Assoc. AIA, is a graduate student at UC Berkeley and co-editor of ArchVoices. |
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