Fifth Journey Day 167: Air Between the Stones

Date: October 22, 2025
Location: Tunis, Tunisia

In Tunis, Tunisia, the Bardo Museum’s Roman and Byzantine mosaics anchor a city where Arabic and French mingle through the medina and the call to prayer threads across sunlit courtyards. Today unfolded between dust-bright galleries and streets stitched with music—fragments gathering into a quiet whole.

Inside the Bardo Museum

I spent the afternoon inside the Bardo Museum. The air was still and full of dust, which only moved when someone passed by. The mosaics caught my eye — their small pieces of marble and glass arranged in a deliberate pattern. From far away, they looked whole, but up close, there were gaps, and over time, those cracks got filled in. I liked that—the honesty of something held together by absence.

Breathing Through the Mosaic

There was a picture of part of a woman's face. Her expression was hard to make out. The missing tiles didn't feel like a loss, but they did make it easier to breathe. I thought of how every mosaic is an act of returning — of placing what was once broken back into pattern. I sat on a bench for a long time and sketched the outline of her eyes. I didn't try to draw her, only the moments of silence between the shapes.

Courtyard Light and Street Collage

Outside, the light was bright again. The museum courtyard smelled of dust and orange leaves. A cat was sleeping near the steps, its fur blending with the marble. On the way back, the streets of Tunis felt like a collage too — fragments of music, French words caught in the air, and gold fabric hung from windows.

Quiet Reconstruction

I feel something loosening here. The mosaics are so detailed that they make me notice how I move through places. I collect small, broken impressions and arrange them without realizing it. Maybe this is what painting has become for me: the act of placing, of quiet reconstruction.

Night Pulse of the City

Tonight, the city is humming softly outside the window. The call to prayer echoed earlier, long and low. It felt more like a slow, steady pulse in the air than a sound. I'll remember the tone more than any image.

Travel Notes

• Weather: Clear and dry, 26°C; still gallery air with fine dust motes; warm sunlight in the courtyard.
• Scents: Dust and orange leaves; faint coffee from nearby streets; a whisper of citrus drifting over stone.
• Sounds: Soft footfalls in the museum, low conversations in French and Arabic, a city hum beyond the walls, and the call to prayer carried long and low.
• Reflection: The mosaics teach an honesty of absence—gaps that let breath enter. Painting feels like placing fragments into a pattern that remembers how to hold.

Continue the Journey

For another quiet night in the same city, slip into First Journey Day 9: Moonlit Oasis. Or wander the nearby blues of the coast in First Journey Day 10: Café Chronicles from Sidi Bou Said.