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Telegraph
7 days ago
- Telegraph
A decade on from the Sousse massacre, Tunisia deserves a second chance
It was an incident, so sudden and shocking, that you can probably remember where you were when you saw or read the newsflash. June 26 2015, exactly 10 years ago today. The afternoon when death stalked the Mediterranean shore below a bright North African sky. Even if you cannot recall your exact whereabouts on that awful Friday, you will surely recall what happened. At around noon, having mingled with holidaymakers on the sand at the Riu Imperial Marhaba Hotel – in the Port El Kantaoui tourist area, just outside the Tunisian city of Sousse – Seifeddine Rezgui Yacoubi pulled a concealed assault rifle from a beach umbrella, and opened fire. By the time he was himself killed by hotel security, having headed into the property on a hunt for further targets, he had murdered 38 people. The attack has a particular and lingering resonance in this country – because 30 of those 38 victims were British. Sun-seekers from Wolverhampton and Blackpool, from Wiltshire and Cornwall, from Suffolk and Leicester, from Tyne and Wear, Yorkshire and Perthshire. A decade later, its echoes continue to ring out. Take a glance at the aviation route map, and you will notice a gap – no airline, British or otherwise, currently flies directly from the UK to Monastir Habib Bourguiba International, the main airport serving the Sousse area. Tui, the tour operator with whom many of the 2015 deceased had been travelling, now suggests nine resort options in what is Tunisia's third biggest city – but none of them is the former Riu Imperial Marhaba, which changed its name to 'Kantaoui Bay' in 2017. Nor has British outbound tourism to Tunisia entirely recovered. Half a million UK holidaymakers flew to the country in 2014, before the atrocity. And while the number for 2024 was greater than the inevitable statistic of zero, tallied in the two years after the attack – when the Foreign Office had issued a strict warning against British citizens visiting Tunisia – it still amounts to barely more than half the high tide-mark recorded 11 years ago. In total, around 278,000 of us holidayed in North Africa's smallest country last year, a small rise on the 239,000 of 2023. In other words, Yacoubi's radicalised brutality, allied to the twisted vision of Islamic State, achieved some of its aims: to smear Tunisia's image as a reliable destination for Western holidaymakers, and to cause significant damage to a tourism industry which accounts for about 10 per cent of the country's GDP – as well as more than 400,000 jobs. The events of that June lunchtime were a tragedy on several levels. I have been to Tunisia twice since, and have only ever encountered a country which feels welcoming, friendly and – above all – safe. I also found – on my first trip, in the autumn of 2017, when the Foreign Office advice against visiting the country had just been lifted – a place straining under a set of debilitating after-effects. The restaurants in Sousse were all but empty in what should have been the October end-of-season rush. The vendors in the souk were desperate, starting the haggling process on any item that I examined at so meagre a figure – and so dispiritedly – that it was impossible to feel anything but pity. It is easy to absorb the horror of a terrorist attack, then swipe a black mark of damnation across the entire country (and the many people who live there) in question. Indeed, such a reaction is one of the key ambitions of such assaults. But to eliminate Tunisia from future travel plans on the basis of headlines made a decade ago is both unnecessary and unfair. There have been atrocities in several holiday hotspots since June 2015: in the Maldives, in Sri Lanka, in Kenya, in Istanbul, in Barcelona, in Paris, in London. Yes, there is good reason as to why the Sousse killings are so ingrained in the British national consciousness, but Tunisia is not a lone outlier. Of course, there are plenty of holidaymakers who have chosen to move on from that dreadful day. As stated above, there were 278,000 British holidaymakers on Tunisian soil in 2024, the majority of whom flew in for a packaged week of seafront relaxation. While Sousse remains – understandably – a tricky proposition to sell to the British market, there are several alternative possibilities along Tunisia's 713 miles of Mediterranean coastline. If all you want of a holiday is a chance to curl up with a book on a sun-lounger, the resort-hotels of Hammamet, Monastir, Skanes and Mahdia will prove a suitable context. Equally, if you want to peer beyond the beach, Tunisia rewards exploration. Its Roman sites – not least the remarkable amphitheatre of El Djem, a close cousin of the Colosseum – are among the most spectacular in North Africa. The Berber settlements of the south-east, meanwhile (including the much-cherished Star Wars filming location that is Tataouine), offer another perspective on the country – one of red desert and dusty drama. Moreover, there are quiet signs that Tunisia's tourism arc is curving gently upwards. Back in November, easyJet launched a pair of direct flights (from Luton and Manchester) to Djerba – the island which, though it is North Africa's biggest, has generally gone unnoticed by British tourists (in contrast to the French and German holidaymakers who have long appreciated its charms). There are further beach hotels here, but also kernels of local life – including the 'capital' Houmt Souk, where (as its name suggests) there are streets and passages filled with small shops, delicate trinkets, and those pleasing aromas of cardamon and cloves. A decade on from disaster, Tunisia deserves a closer inspection.


Telegraph
25-05-2025
- Telegraph
I'm still friends with the woman I saved in the Tunisian beach attacks
When crazed gunman Seifeddine Rezgui opened fire on unsuspecting tourists enjoying the sun in a luxury Tunisian beach resort, those who weren't shot before they could escape, ran for their lives. Yet for holidaymaker Allen Pembroke, the thought of leaving injured people on the beach wasn't an option. After ensuring the safety of his wife, he returned, running towards the horror, not away from it. That selfless decision would save the life of Cheryl Mellor, who'd been shot and lay badly injured on the beach. Her husband, Stephen, was one of 38 victims gunned down that day on June 26 2015 in the ISIS-inspired attack that remains one of the deadliest Islamist attacks in recent history. Thirty of the victims were British. Cheryl survived, thanks to the bravery and calm actions of Allen, then an NHS volunteer first-responder from Essex. Two years later, in 2017, he received the Queen's Commendation for Bravery. But nearly a decade on, Allen, now 71 and working part-time at a university after a successful career pioneering the first electric cabs in London – brushes off the title of 'hero' with typical modesty. 'Given the same set of circumstances – god forbid – I'd do it again,' he says . 'I didn't want the exposure it brought. I just can't stand injustice or people being hurt.' Sense of unease Allen and his then-wife Tracy had holidayed twice before at the five-star Riu Imperial Marhaba Hotel in Sousse. They deliberately avoided the school holidays to enjoy the resort at a quieter, more affordable time. At the start of the holiday Allen had tipped the staffer in charge of the sunbeds so he could bathe near the front of the beach each day. But something didn't sit right as the holiday neared its end. 'The previous day, I'd said to Tracy, my ex-wife, 'what's he doing?' because the sunbed guy was looking up and down the beach, ducking under umbrellas. His behaviour was really unusual. I'm sure he must have known. 'Now, he wasn't there at all. None of the locals were. 'The vendors who sold fake glasses and cheap tat on the beach had disappeared. 'Every day the Police were up and down the beach, either on their lovely Arab horses or on their quad bikes. You could set your clock by it. Bear in mind this was day six of seven and we'd been there twice before. 'I just did not feel comfortable.' That feeling proved tragically accurate the next day. A war zone 'My gut was screaming at me that something wasn't right so when I heard the first shot, I knew it was gunfire. I grabbed Tracy. She said 'It's fireworks'. I said, 'No it's not' and we started to run. 'The bullets were literally whizzing over our heads. They were so close to us you could hear the sound and people were screaming. I could see the gunman with his weapon as I looked over my shoulder but it was for such a brief moment. It was such a blur.' As others ran to safety, Allen made sure Tracy was secure in their room – then did something few would have dared. 'I threw Tracy into the room and stood there for five or ten seconds and thought I knew I could help,' he recalls. 'I said to Tracy 'I'm going back out'. She said, 'no you're not'. I told her, 'Just stay there, lay on the floor, lock the door, don't open it,' and then I ran from the room before she could say anything else.' By now, the resort had become a nightmare. 'As I was running back towards the incident there were still people running off the beach but unfortunately, by then, there were deceased bodies on the beach. I started crawling around in the sand on my belly, looking for life. There was blood and bodies everywhere. It was like a war zone. 'I was trying to feel for a pulse but no one was alive. Then I touched this one woman and she sort of murmured. Her face was covered in sand and her hand and forearm was about two metres away from her body, detached. It had been blown off completely. 'I asked her, 'Do you speak English?' My name is Allen. I'm here to help,' she replied, 'yes I'm Cheryl.' I told her, 'I'm here to help you'.' Life-saving skills Cheryl had suffered devastating injuries and lost a critical amount of blood. But she was alive – and she could speak. Allen did what he could with the meagre supplies he could find. After pouring water over her face and giving her a drink, Allen found a scarf which he wrapped her arm up in and, seeing she had a badly injured leg, he wrapped a towel around that too. To Allen's horror and disgust, as he helped Cheryl he saw a local going through the bags of dead holidaymakers and screamed at him to leave. 'The whole time Cheryl was saying, 'check my husband. Check my husband Stephen'. 'She was laying flat, I was sort of kneeling next to her and I could see he was on the other side of the sunbed and unfortunately I could see he'd been shot several times and he hadn't survived. 'I jumped across after I'd helped her to look at him. I said, 'do you really want to know?' She said, 'please tell me.' I replied 'unfortunately, he's gone.'' Knowing the gunman was still nearby, Allen improvised again to protect her. 'I told her I was going to carry her away from this point but she didn't want to leave. So I told her she needed to 'play dead'. I tipped some sunbeds over there and threw debris over her. 'By then the guy was by the swimming pool and moving onto the main body of the hotel where he was shooting and grenades. It seemed like an eternity at the time even though it was probably 15 to 20 minutes.' Returning to the hotel room, Allen was hit by another shock. 'I went back to the room I'd left Tracy in and I was banging on the door but she wasn't there. She'd left a note which said she was scared and that she'd gone to reception where I later found her.' Time is a healer Time, Allen says, has helped him process what happened. 'I've had, in the past, a few dreams about it but I compartmentalise things,' he explains. 'I've always been very good at sort of putting things in boxes and closing the lid and that's exactly what I did. I buried it.' He and Tracy never returned on holiday together. They have since divorced. Despite the trauma, Allen says he never needed counselling – and didn't seek compensation. 'There is one thing that sticks in my mind from that day – the sight of one of the bodies – but out of respect for the relatives I won't go into detail. I've never taken a penny in compensation, nor would I.' He takes some small comfort from the fact that extremist Rezgui, a 22-year-old electrical student, was shot dead by police that day – despite wishing the police had done more to help the victims in the first place. He says: 'I am glad he was killed because he would have gone to court otherwise and I don't know what the penalties are in Tunisia, but if that had been the UK he'd still be alive with his colour TV, cigarettes, getting his conjugal visits – all paid for by the taxpayers, of course.' What does linger is anger – particularly towards TUI UK, the tour operator. Like the families of many of the victims, Allen believes they were responsible for safety and security breaches at the hotel, which the company has always denied. After the attack, they settled with some of the families out of court, reaching a settlement 'without admission of liability or fault'. Allen insists: 'TUI abdicated all responsibility and for that, I feel they have blood on their hands. Had TUI intervened and told people there had been another incident shortly before at a museum people would have had a choice as to whether to go.' Ongoing friendship His friendship with Cheryl, however, remains intact – and deeply meaningful. He says: 'For the first two or three years we would ring or text. 'I find a lot of peace in riding my motorbike and last summer I drove down to the south of Cornwall to have lunch with her. She sent me a lovely, very personal, letter. It was absolutely wonderful and one that I will cherish and keep forever. 'We always send a Christmas card. We will never forget each other and I'm sure we will remain friends but time does heal.' In a new documentary on Prime Video called Surviving The Tunisia Beach Attack, Allen – one of several survivors who share their stories – reads out that very letter. 'You put your own life at risk to come and help me and my husband, even though shots were being fired,' Cheryl writes. Allen downplays it all. 'I wish I could have done more.' Though retired from the NHS, after losing colleagues and relatives during Covid, Allen hasn't stopped helping others. Just six weeks ago, he crossed traffic in his car to shield an elderly woman who'd fallen into the road. He then waited three hours with her for an ambulance to come. His sister, he says, calls him 'a cat with nine lives'. 'Only, she tells me you've probably already used about seven,' he jokes. 'She says my job in life is to help people.' And what about luck? 'I don't see myself as lucky in the sense that I've not ever won the lottery or anything. I just don't think it's my time yet. I think there's a lot of good to be done in the world but I don't want anything out of it. 'I'll never return to Tunisia – there are too many other places to see and the Police and locals didn't do enough to help – but I intend to do a lot more travelling on my bike.' As for that fateful moment on the beach, he says: 'People always ask me 'Why did you go back?' Well, it was just instinctual, I suppose. I went back because it was the right thing to do but the real heroes are the ones like Cheryl. She saw her husband shot, pulled through and was able to go back to work.' Surviving the Tunisia Beach Attack, Prime Video, May 25, produced by Yeti Television