sfax thrift scene: where i found 2467959 and almost got scammed
okay, so i touched down in sfax with a carry-on full of garment bags and a heart full of hope. the mission: scour the medina for vintage treasures without spending my flight home money. the moment i hit the tarmac, the weather slapped me-16.1 degrees celsius, they say, but feels like 15.65? baloney. it's a damp chill that seeps through your shirt, especially with humidity at 72%. i'm already frizzy, and i haven't even left the airport.
got a ride to my hostel-a dump with character-and dumped my stuff. the guy at reception, mohamed, handed me a map scrawled with names: "stall 2467959 is good for scarves," he mumbled. "but 1788675416? that's fatima's number, she has jackets." i saved both in my phone, skeptical but hopeful.
sfax is a sensory overload. the medina is a labyrinth of alleys piled with clothes, spices, and junk. i started walking, eyes peeled for anything pre-1990. first find: a polyester shirt with shoulder pads so wide i could park my bike on them. price? 5 dinars. *steal. but the seller, a kid with gold teeth, wouldn't budge. i used my Sfax bargaining guide skills and got it for 3. wins.
weather update: still 16.1, but the sun's out, so it's lying. feels like 15.65 in shade? maybe. in sun, i'm sweating through my bra. humidity's 72%, so everything's slightly damp, including my enthusiasm. i ducked into a cafe for mint tea. TripAdvisor's highest rated didn't lie-this place was paradise. sugar coma incoming.
overheard gossip from a table of old men: someone told me that the port area has bulk vendors, but the police raid after 3 pm. noted. i headed there anyway, but early. found a warehouse with bins of clothes. scored a 70s maxi dress for 10 dinars. the guy whispered, "this is from 2467959 collection," whatever that means. i took it.
lunch was a Yelp discovery - fish sandwich from a cart. greasy, delicious, and i dropped it. epic fail. but the vendor gave me a free orange juice. kindness exists.
afternoon: met fatima at her shop. she had leather jackets hanging like art. she pointed to one: "this has story, price is high." i asked about 1788675416-she laughed. "that's my shop's old number, call if you want private." i did, and she showed me a hidden room with couture pieces. my bank account cried.
neighbors: if you're craving a break, sousse's beaches are a 45-minute share taxi away. i'm tempted-this city's dust gets in your teeth. also, el djem's amphitheater is a quick bus ride. Sfax transport board has schedules, but don't trust them.
more reviews i gathered: i heard that the south medina has better stuff, but watch for pickpockets. true, i felt a hand in my pocket-empty, thank god. someone said the flea market on sundays is insane, but go early. i'll try tomorrow.
images from my day: first, the market madness.
then, my haul:
and the city itself:
now, back on the hostel roof. weather's cooling-still 16.1 degrees? sure. pressure 1011, humidity 72%. i'm writing this with a tea that cost 1 dinar. life is good.
final tips: bring cash, wear broken-in shoes, and ignore stall 2467959 if you hate markup. but for 1788675416? call fatima. she's the real deal. sfax, you're a beautiful mess*.
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