Mint tea, anyone?

"Come, come," he implores us. "Come have a look at their house."

We are travelling through the heart of the Berber territory of Tunisia and our guide is keen for us to see a cave house at the troglodyte village of Matmata.

"Won't they mind us tourists tramping unannounced into their home?" I ask. And no, our unsuspecting hosts don't bat an eyelid. In fact, we feel like prospective house buyers as we are given a tour of the rooms, hollowed out of rock around a circular courtyard.

It could be another age, but for the children huddling around a portable television - unfazed by the intrusion - and the husband making a quick call on his mobile phone.

After a cup of mint tea, we take our leave. It is a genuine and warm welcome and epitomises the spirit of hospitality we enjoy in this diverse country on the northern edge Africa.

Our fascinating journey starts with a brief stop at Tunis Carthage Airport, where we get to grips with a brik breakfast - basically an egg fried in a pastry envelope, which requires considerable dexterity to avoid getting yolk all over your shirt.

Then a connecting flight to Tozeur, across a barren landscape bisected by arrow-straight roads and sparsely dotted with isolated hamlets and towns.

Tozeur appears suddenly, like the oasis it is. More than 2,500 acres of palm trees carpet the desert floor, irrigated by more than 200 natural springs; and producing the sticky and sweet deglat en nour dates - or 'finger of light' as they are called because of their translucent quality - and they are a taste sensation.

After a night's rest we take the 1920s-style Red Lizard train, which once belonged to the Bey of Tunisia himself, through the spectacular sandstone gorges of Seldja. We proceed to Redeyef near the Algerian border and on to Tamerza with stunning views over the vast plain.

It is New Year and very much festival time in this part of the world and we catch the tail end of the Tozeur Festival, complete with snake charmers and astonishing balancing acts, before cutting across the salt flats of Chott El Jerid. After driving across its shimmering expanse, the town of Douz appears like a mirage, its streets bustling with a frenetic energy; and providing a chance to try out untested haggling skills.

Some useful tips: never offer too much; start ridiculously low and meet halfway; be firm and if you are not interested do not even think of starting, because you may offend by walking away without clinching a deal.

I begin with a wool hearth rug, but fail at the first hurdle. The vendor has had a difficult year and is in no mood for compromise. "I wouldn't even reduce it for my brother," someone translates. He must mean it. Well I can hardly complain, paying the equivalent of only £12 for a handmade carpet.

Douz is known as the Gateway to the Sahara. What a sight the desert is, its dunes rising like swells in an ocean, stretching away into the blinding distance. It has a forbidding yet beckoning charm.

We only get to figuratively dip our toes in, as we are taken on an obligatory camel ride. A lesser-known fact of camel sexual behaviour soon becomes apparent. It is the mating season and the males inflate the soft palate, which dangles out of the side of the mouth accompanied by the most obscene gurgling and slurping as they slaver foamy spittle all over the place. After that edifying sight we set off to lunch in a Bedouin tent, where sand seems to be very much part of the menu. In fact it's everywhere. It's as fine as talcum powder, yet wipe your face and it feels like sandpaper being scratched across your skin.

Then to the highlight of the day and of the whole trip - the International Sahara Festival.

An all-Bedouin affair with caravans arriving from all over the surrounding desert, the organisers have made special provision for the growing number of tourists who come to watch. But the only concessions to modernity are loudspeakers, from which a charmingly idiosyncratic English commentary is given.

The day starts with a camel race. Not the easiest of beasts to steer, most simply run off the course while others have to be dragged across the finishing line. Dancers in stunning costumes, representing tribes from as far as Algeria and Libya, put on mesmerising performances. There are prancing horses, balancing acts, singing and then the hare coursing.

"This is how we live in the Sahara," intones the announcer before a hare is released for greyhounds to the baying delight of the crowd. A cloud of dust signals its end.

Next on the menu is a clearly petrified desert fox, which is not co-operative and has to be almost shoved off on its way.

It makes only a desultory effort before the hounds have it and its neck is wrung out of the view of spectators. The day ends with a climatic and thunderous gallop past by horsemen going hell for leather - backwards, forwards, standing, firing blunderbusses.

We travel to the Djerba, the home of the Lotus Eaters and Ulysses. It is an island lined with luxurious hotels. Ours, the Hotel Yadis, is a palace.

Apart from miles of unspoilt beaches lapped by the Mediterranean, Djerba's attractions include Ghibra Synagogue, one of the holiest Jewish buildings in north Africa, the village of Guellella famed for its pottery, Houmt Souk's bustling market place and the 15th century Borj el Kebir. And there is a sanctuary with enough Nile crocodiles to restock - well, the entire Nile.

After recovering from a lavish New Year's Eve party, complete with belly dancers, we fly back to the sprawling metropolis of Tunis, and book into the lavish hotel.

The city has much to offer, including the picturesque blue-and-white hilltop artists' village of Sidibou Said and the original Carthage - or the little that the Romans left of it in one of the most famous sackings in history. They left impressive ruins of their own in what became the third largest Roman city in the empire, including the imposing Antonine baths.

The Bardo Museum, housed in the Beylical Palace, contains the largest collection of Roman mosaics in the world. They are breathtaking both in the scale and detail.

A day trip takes us down the coast to the ancient Islamic walled city of Sousse with its bustling medina, and fort, and to Port el Kantoaoui with its Restaurant Mediterranean, which boasts the most fantastic seafood. A visit to Tunis would be incomplete without an amble through its covered walkways and a relaxing puff on a chichi hubble bubble with Turkish coffee.

Settling into the first class cabin of our British Airways flight home it is difficult not to spare a thought for that family in the cave house in Matmata who are probably keeping the mint tea ready for the next unexpected, yet welcome guests.

TRAVELFACTS

Gavin Engelbrecht, who was a guest of the Tunisian National Tourist Office, travelled to London Kings Cross courtesy of GNER and flew from Gatwick with British Airways.

GNER operates frequent services between Newcastle and Kings Cross. Prices start from £20 return. For further information contact GNER on 08457 225 225 or visit www.gner.co.uk

British Airways operates up to four flights a week from Gatwick to Tunis Carthage Airport, with return fares (including airport tax) from £209. Further information from www.ba.com or 0870 850985.

For more information on Tunisia contact the Tunisian National Tourist Office on 0207 224 5561 or visit www.cometotunisia.co.uk. Tunis Air: 0207 734 7644 or visit www.tunisair.com.