Fifth Journey Day 170: The Rope That Forgot Its Weight

Date: October 25, 2025
Location: Sousse, Tunisia

In Sousse, on Tunisia’s Mediterranean coast, the morning opened with boat engines and gulls over the fishing port. The light, salt haze, and market bustle framed a day marked by repetition and care—the quiet devotion of a working harbor.

The Harbor’s Light and Rhythm

I spent the morning by the fishing port, watching the return of boats that seemed older than the men guiding them. The light on the water moved to the beat of the waves — silver one moment, then almost black when the waves folded. The smell was strong: salt, oil, and a little sweetness from decay. I stood near a man repairing nets. His fingers moved automatically through the weave, the pattern tight and unthinking, like breathing.

Gulls and Wordless Conversations

The gulls were loud but not restless. They circled, then paused, balancing on air. I watched their wings as if trying to remember something I once knew about stillness in motion. When the boats were parked next to each other, they made a soft clattering sound, like a conversation without words.

Textures of the Market

I walked to the market later, following the trail of fish laid out on cracked tiles. Every surface had texture — old paint, salt crust, light reflecting off scales. I didn't draw, but I found myself imagining shapes: the curve of a rope, the scattered pieces of crushed ice, the shine that looked briefly like silk.

Choosing Stillness Over Sketching

I realized that many of the things I notice here only last for a moment — before the fish are put away, before the tide changes, before the light gets dimmer. But I still remember it very well, as if I could still feel it.

Quiet Moments at a Café

By late afternoon, I was sitting at a café near the water. The tea was too sweet, and the mint was a bit bruised, but the warmth felt comforting. I thought about how repetition — the casting, hauling, mending — is its own quiet form of devotion.

Letting the Day Settle

Tomorrow, I might take the train again or stay a little longer. I don't feel the need to decide yet. The day has left its mark — light, salt, and rhythm settling somewhere beneath thought.

Travel Notes

• Weather: Clear with a faint horizon haze; 23°C. Sunlight warm but gentle, moderated by a steady sea breeze carrying salt and diesel.
• Scents: Briny spray, engine oil, and a slight sweetness of decay near the docks; later, bruised mint and sugared tea at the café.
• Sounds: Gulls circling without urgency, hulls knocking softly, nets rustling, and the low thrum of returning engines.
• Reflection: The harbor’s repetitions felt like a litany—casting, hauling, mending—teaching attention to moments that vanish as quickly as they appear.

Continue the Journey

If this quiet harbor day speaks to you, you may also enjoy the reflective pause of Café Chronicles in nearby Sidi Bou Said, or drift with the night light in Moonlit Oasis from Tunis.