There are cats in the streets medinas, in the neighbourhood with pretty white and blue houses, and above all, in the markets. Some eyed us curiously.
Some are just curious.
Some were skinny and seemed fearful.
Some eyed us cautiously while trying to pick up bits of bread crumbsworom the floor.
Some were huddling for warmth and security.
Some were feeding while the mother eyed us with concern.
A black one was grooming itself and ignoring us.
Some watched the traffic behind shelters.
A golden tabby looked at us confidently.
A two-thousand-year-old fiercely biting lion hangs in Bardo Museum. A lion is, of course, also a cat.
Why are there so many cats in Tunisia?