Chelly of Sousse
by Jilliana
Ranicar-Breese
It was the
early 70’s and I was working for Trader
Travel at their concession at the London Hilton
Hotel. I was friends with a Tunisian colleague
called Chelly. At least that was his family name
but that was how he was called at work.
Chelly was from Sousse in Tunisia and was working
in hotel management on the desk. He was a nice
young man possibly 25 but I never knew or
socialised with him. I had fallen for the
American comedian Charlie Callas who was staying
at the Hilton.
Chelly suggested that we go to Sousse and take a
double room but he would stay with his mother in
the Medina so I would have a twin room just for
myself. It seemed like a good idea so I booked
the cheap package deal.
About a week before we were due to go, Chelly
announced that he could not afford to go because
he had learnt that the cheap price with Tunisian
Airlines was only for English tourists and not
Tunisian nationals who would be made to pay the
difference in price on arrival at Tunis airport.
So it was cheap for us Brits but not for Chelly
so reluctantly he cancelled and I was left
holding the baby you might say. Fortunately I had
a friend called Chris who agreed to come and
share the room. I was saved.
I was given gifts for his mother and his brothers
and told to go to the Medina and ask for his
mother but without an address!
When we got to the Medina we were immediately
surrounded by young boys around 12 who were
hoping we would need a guide. I learnt that day
that you pick one boy and the others leave you in
peace. I said the magic word Chelly and we were
led by a keen boy expecting some dinars.
I think I spoke in French but I don’t
remember. I gave the gifts and a letter and we
were invited at once to eat cous cous on the
floor! Never have I eaten on the floor before or
for that matter since!
Two of his brothers were there. One an educated
businessman residing in Tunis who invited us to
stay with him and his wife. The other brother was
a dolmus driver so we were invited for a lift to
Tunis and back. I think I spoke English to the
men but of course could not communicate with the
mother. It was the first time I had eaten cous
cous and a good time was had by all.
Chelly had given me a contact Kiraouan to show us
rugs and the great mosque. Next we went by dolmus
to Sidi Bou Said the blue and white village high
up and full of white ornate birdcages. A must-have
for the tourists. Then our dolmus took us to buy
ceramic lamps at Nabeul.
I was only in Tunisia for one week but we
received wonderful hospitality and I was able to
bring back to Chelly a small pot of his mother’s
homemade rose jam.
Written
7/12/24 at Nightingale.
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