The Voyage to Africa

“Three years ago, Sulpitius, when I left this neighborhood and said goodbye to you, we set sail from Narbonne and on the fifth day entered a port of Africa, so prosperous, by the will of God, had the voyage been. I had a great desire to go to Carthage, to visit the places connected with the saints, and above all to worship at the tomb of the martyr Cyprian. On the fifth day we returned to the harbor and put out to sea. We were bound for Alexandria, but the south wind was against us, and we were nearly driven onto the Syrtis. The careful sailors, however, guarded against this and stopped the ship by dropping anchor. [a]

The mainland of Africa then lay before our eyes. We landed on it in boats, and when we saw that the whole country around was untouched by human farming, I went farther inland to explore the place more carefully. About three miles from the coast I saw a small hut in the middle of the sand. Its roof, to use Sallust’s expression, was like the keel of a ship. It was close to the ground and was floored with good strong boards. This was not because any very heavy rains are feared there, for in fact rain has never even been heard of there. It was because the winds in that district are so strong that if even a little breath of air begins to be felt, though the weather is fairly mild, more wreckage takes place on that land than on any sea.

No plants grow there, and no seeds ever come up, since in such shifting soil the dry sand is swept along with every movement of the winds. But where some headlands set back from the sea act as a check on the winds, the soil is somewhat firmer and produces here and there some prickly grass, which makes fair pasture for sheep. The people live on milk, while those of them who are more skillful, or, so to speak, more wealthy, eat barley bread. That is the only grain that thrives there, for barley, by growing quickly in that kind of soil, generally escapes being destroyed by the fierce winds. Its growth is so rapid that, we are told, it is ripe on the thirtieth day after the seed is sown. But there is no reason for anyone to settle there except that everyone is free from paying taxes. The coast of the Cyrenians is indeed the most remote, bordering on the desert that lies between Egypt and Africa, through which Cato once led an army when he was fleeing from Caesar.