Sidi Zekri is one of the many small religious buildings of Djerba, an island where it sometimes seems that every field has a whitewashed dome in it. The name suggests a local holy man, the sort of marabout who is buried under a domed tomb and whose tomb draws believers seeking help with illness or family troubles. Many such places are small and quiet, and are looked after by neighbours rather than by any big institution.
The land is flat and sandy, and the farms are scattered widely, each with its own well, cistern, olive trees and a walled garden. Palms rise above the walls, and old stone windmills and water-lifting wheels remain here and there. In spring the fields are green and the almond and pomegranate blossom is bright against the white walls. The sea is never far away, glimpsed between the palms and bright blue under the sun, and the air smells of salt, dust and woodsmoke.
Djerba has a mixed community with a long history. Muslims, Jews and Christians have lived on the island for centuries, and a Catholic church in Houmt Souk, dedicated to Saint Nicholas, is one of the places on the same ride. The island's craft of weaving, silverwork and pottery is old, and the souks in Houmt Souk are a good place to see it. The small fort there, the Borj el Kebir, stands over the harbour, and the fishermen still bring in octopus, which is a speciality of Djerba and is served in many ways, usually with lemon and a good deal of oil.
Riding around the island means taking small roads between farmhouses. The surface can be sandy or patchy, and the junctions are not always signed, but you cannot get lost for long on an island this size. In the heat of the afternoon the roads empty and the island sleeps, so take a break in the shade with a coffee like the locals. Midoun, five kilometres off, has fuel and food, and Houmt Souk has more, with a good choice of restaurants along the harbour. Evening light on the whitewashed walls is the best time to take photographs, when the shadows lengthen and the dust glows gold.