If you walk past our house, there is a crossroads with three possibilities. The first is to go to the village of Sidi Bou Said, where most of the salons du thé are located that we have visited on our Monday breakfasts so far. The other possibility is to go towards La Marsa, a posh neighbourhood. The road towards La Marsa is lined with several cafés, salons du thé and restaurants that we haven't visited so far. And then there is an uphill road that will lead you to Sidi Dhrif, a small suburbian area between Sidi Bou Said and La Marsa. This is where we go today. We pass the villas that make up Sidi Dhrif and the adjacent parts of Sidi Bou Said and make it to the end of the road, where the gargantuan villa of Ben Ali, the dictator who was ousted by the 2010 revolution lies. The villa is guarded by a soldier and apparently no one is allowed in except for a government inspector who visits the place once a week to check if nothing has been taken away.
Turn right here, and you will again end up in the centre of Sidi Bou Said. But if you turn left, you are walking on the coastal road towards La Marsa, which offers stunning views over La Marsa itself and the bay it overlooks. In this beautiful landscape, hotel Sidi Bou Said is situated. Through an impressive gate, you fist have to cross a large parking lot before entering the hotel's grand reception. From there, it's some steep stairs up to the restaurant, so we leave Rihanna Gaga's buggy at the reception. Rihanna Gaga is happy to be freed from her buggy, although she's been chatting and singing happily all the way from our house to the hotel, a walk of about 15 minutes. This is not a given these days: often she refuses to sit down in her buggy and putting her belts on is often a drama, after which she will continue to whimper and wail for quite a while. But, luckily, not today.
The restaurant offers nice panoramic views over the surroundings. It is decorated in typical four star style: without much character, neither beautiful nor ugly, with lots of draperies and cloth everywhere. Rihanna Gaga feels immediately at home. While normally she's quite timid these days, she now runs around, chatting, singing, dancing. The music - a surprising mix of old pop song and nineties rave and club tunes - is definitely to her liking and she repeatedly throws her arms in the air - in true nineties rave style. The only moment she's less happy, is when a loud argument takes place in the kitchen. She's clearly worried by the loud voices and starts shouting angrily towards the kitchen, with her index finger raised, as if to warn the men arguing to stop their silliness this minute.
The food is a buffet with lots of bread, cheese, meat, egg, croissants, sweets and cakes to choose from. It makes for a breakfast not unlike some of the best in Scheveningen's beach clubs. Rihanna Gaga is mainly interested in the sausages, which she keeps picking from my plate to run off with. I have to keep an eye on her because she keeps disappearing to places I can't see her, much to the amusement of the waiters.
It doesn't look like it's common for people who are not a guest at the hotel to enjoy breakfast here. The waiter asks for my room number and then fiddles for a long time with his cash register before he can produce a receipt which he then immediately gives to me - as if to make sure that I realise I need to pay for this.
In the meantime, Rihanna Gaga has snatched my telephone and is walking around with it pressed to her ear, talking away in a fake phone conversation as is her wont nowadays, whenever she gets hold of a telephone - or anything vaguely resembling one.
After finishing my breakfast, I pay and we leave. Rihanna Gaga descends the entire staircase on her own - well, I'm till holding her hand, of course, but she does the walking down. The moment I put her in her buggy, she starts crying loudly.
Turn right here, and you will again end up in the centre of Sidi Bou Said. But if you turn left, you are walking on the coastal road towards La Marsa, which offers stunning views over La Marsa itself and the bay it overlooks. In this beautiful landscape, hotel Sidi Bou Said is situated. Through an impressive gate, you fist have to cross a large parking lot before entering the hotel's grand reception. From there, it's some steep stairs up to the restaurant, so we leave Rihanna Gaga's buggy at the reception. Rihanna Gaga is happy to be freed from her buggy, although she's been chatting and singing happily all the way from our house to the hotel, a walk of about 15 minutes. This is not a given these days: often she refuses to sit down in her buggy and putting her belts on is often a drama, after which she will continue to whimper and wail for quite a while. But, luckily, not today.The restaurant offers nice panoramic views over the surroundings. It is decorated in typical four star style: without much character, neither beautiful nor ugly, with lots of draperies and cloth everywhere. Rihanna Gaga feels immediately at home. While normally she's quite timid these days, she now runs around, chatting, singing, dancing. The music - a surprising mix of old pop song and nineties rave and club tunes - is definitely to her liking and she repeatedly throws her arms in the air - in true nineties rave style. The only moment she's less happy, is when a loud argument takes place in the kitchen. She's clearly worried by the loud voices and starts shouting angrily towards the kitchen, with her index finger raised, as if to warn the men arguing to stop their silliness this minute.
The food is a buffet with lots of bread, cheese, meat, egg, croissants, sweets and cakes to choose from. It makes for a breakfast not unlike some of the best in Scheveningen's beach clubs. Rihanna Gaga is mainly interested in the sausages, which she keeps picking from my plate to run off with. I have to keep an eye on her because she keeps disappearing to places I can't see her, much to the amusement of the waiters.
It doesn't look like it's common for people who are not a guest at the hotel to enjoy breakfast here. The waiter asks for my room number and then fiddles for a long time with his cash register before he can produce a receipt which he then immediately gives to me - as if to make sure that I realise I need to pay for this.
In the meantime, Rihanna Gaga has snatched my telephone and is walking around with it pressed to her ear, talking away in a fake phone conversation as is her wont nowadays, whenever she gets hold of a telephone - or anything vaguely resembling one.
After finishing my breakfast, I pay and we leave. Rihanna Gaga descends the entire staircase on her own - well, I'm till holding her hand, of course, but she does the walking down. The moment I put her in her buggy, she starts crying loudly.
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