Carthage in Springtime

She didn't half-ass

her city-site choosin' -

nice work, Elyssa

Not quite a haiku, but it does sum up my feelings about Carthage in spring. We spent 8 hours wandering the ruins of that ancient city yesterday, but it wasn't just the ruins that captured the eye and the imagination – the glimmering Bay of Tunis, the hills overrun with wildflowers, plum trees blooming, a deep blue sky – who could ignore those, no matter what else is before them?

The ruins were incredible. I'd read many people's observations that the Carthage archaeological park is disappointing but in my opinion that couldn't be further from the truth. Despite the fact that explanations were signposted in 7 languages but not in English, I thought the area was fascinatingly atmospheric.

I found myself wishing fervently that I had lived in Roman times while viewing the remains of the magnificent Antonine baths. Basement archways, fragments of mosaic, marble pillars and carved stone capitals are all that remain of the enormous structure which used to contain public gyms, baths of various temperatures, an outdoor swimming pool and sunbathing terrace overlooking the Mediterranean. The closest I can think of to a public structure like that in Australia is the Cotton Tree swimming pool – faded concrete, no aesthetically pleasing features to speak of and a noisy electrical pumping system. If we promote Kevin Rudd to emperor do you think he'd build us a 3 story marble-domed tepidarium decorated with dancing nymphs and peacocks in turquoise and green glass?

The courtyards of Roman villas with 360^o vistas over heathered hillsides and sparkling sea would probably be unaffordable today except to the likes of Britney Spears and Tom Cruise and I doubt they would appreciate their elegance. They are dotted with statues of robed goddesses and prime beef – err, I mean, nicely proportioned young men. Bougainvillea creeps across weathered stone walls and a few amphorae multiple thousands of years old are casually leaning against a cellar wall. By this stage I am rather sick with jealousy and secretly plotting to build a time machine.

Of course, the Romans built all this on top of the shattered remnants of the Punic civilisation, every bit as impressive as their own. What can be seen now is all that is left after the Arabs razed the Roman, and the French (to some extent) the Arab. A French cathedral now stands on Byrsa Hill, where Elyssa, princess of Tyre (so it is rumored) tricked a Numidian prince into gifting her the land to build a city. All that remains of the Punes is the deepest foundations of a few houses and parts of their vast underground necropolis. Scattered throughout the suburb are the barrel vaulted tombs of Punic dead.

Only two truly Punic sites are extant. The first is the circular military harbour, which once contained the greatest naval force in the world (and Doug now refers to as "the duck pond"). Needless to say, not even one of today's military ships would fit inside.

The other site is a special part of the necropolis. Called the Tophet by archaeologists, it marks the place where over 20,000 urns and stelae found indicate that the Carthaginians probably sacrificed their children to Baal. Mostly from fetal to infant age these children were likely killed to appease the gods (Baal, and his main priestess) in times of famine or war. Doug thinks the Tophet is spooky (and after seeing the photos, I tend to agree with him) but I just thought it very sad at the time. The other sites of Carthage are filled with wildflowers of all colours – yellow, white and purple daisies, sweet peas, little bell-like ones I can't name. In the Tophet there are only twisted trees, shady grottoes filled with weeds and just one or two bright red poppies nodding their heads.

Round rocks, thin spires, giant slabs – many are marked with the symbol of Baal, but some show little reliefs of children – mostly boys. These are the memorials parents gave their children after they were murdered. The children were cremated and their ashes left in urns in the warren of subterranean tombs in this part of the burial grounds. The Carthaginians had a strangely gentle term for it, referring to it as a "sanctuary".

The Tophet leaves the slightest taint on the beauty of Carthage in Spring.