Sidi Bou Saïd, a Tunisian village perched above the Mediterranean, regularly earns comparisons to Saint-Tropez. The common ground? Pristine white facades catching the light, winding lanes between sea and hillside, an unapologetic Mediterranean ease. The difference? Over there, a pastis on a terrace won't set you back fifteen euros, and a night in a small charming hotel won't blow your annual budget.
The analogy makes people smile here in the village. We know that mix well: natural beauty, preserved heritage, galloping inflation in season. Sidi Bou Saïd has kept its Tunisian soul, its blue doors, its cafés where time stretches without a stopwatch or a queue. Saint-Tropez chose another path. The yachts, the palaces, the summer parade. And the prices that go with them.
No judgment. Every village writes its own story, negotiates its appeal, endures or embraces its reputation. But the comparison raises a real question: can you stay accessible while remaining desirable? Sidi Bou Saïd seems to manage. Here, it's harder. Off-season Tropeziens know exactly what we're talking about: a magnificent village, insane property pressure, and that constant split between postcard and daily reality.
Sidi Bou Saïd reminds us other models exist. Not sure we're ready to follow them. But at least it makes you think.
