Tajdit is an Arabic word meaning renewal, and a mosque with that name usually means one that was rebuilt or enlarged at some point, which suits an island where buildings are whitewashed every year and constantly mended. It is not a place with a famous monument, but a pleasant piece of country that rewards a slow ride.
Water is the thing to notice here. Djerba has almost no rivers and little rain, and for centuries families have collected the winter rain in underground cisterns, called majel, dug into the limestone and sealed with lime plaster. The catchment areas are the whitewashed roofs and yards of the houses, which slope down toward a channel. Each farm compound, or menzel, has its cistern, its olive and date trees and a few animals, and the mosque often has its own cistern too, with a basin outside for ablutions. The lanes between the compounds are lined with prickly pear hedges, and in spring the fields are bright with wildflowers.
Riding in this part of Djerba is quiet and unhurried, with fairly little traffic once you leave the main road. Surfaces vary from smooth tarmac to rough patches, with sand on the edges, and dogs, chickens and the occasional donkey cart share the lanes. There are many unmarked junctions, so a map or phone is useful, and a spot on one of the straight lanes is a good place to stop and look at the white domes against the olive trees. The light in the late afternoon is warm, and the sea is never more than a few kilometres away, bringing a salty breeze. Summer can be very hot, and spring and autumn are better.
Houmt Souk is about four kilometres away, and has everything you may want, from fuel and food to repairs. The fish restaurants near the harbour serve grilled bream and sea bass at modest prices, and the ferry at Ajim, in the south-west, connects the island to the mainland in ten minutes if you want to continue the trip toward Zarzis or Matmata.