A table at Le Perchoir.
By day, simply wander up — lunch facing the bay, an aperitif at golden hour, no booking needed. At night, from 10pm, the evening is reserved — by telephone only.
Book your eveningA terrace suspended in greenery, gazing out over the bay. Daylight settles here; night sets it alight.
One terrace, three lives in a single day.
Serene at noon. Golden at aperitif hour.
Electric as night falls.
The sun is high, the bay glitters in the distance. You sink into an armchair and wander through the menu, glass in hand. Afternoons here press no one.
Cooking of the day, market-fresh produce, small plates made for sharing — slowness as the first of luxuries.
Glasses touch, small bites go round, conversation slows and stretches out. The sun slips lower and the bay turns rose.
This is the tipping point — the hour you decide, without quite saying so, to stay.
Garlands of light overhead, rattan lamps, marble catching the flames. Le Perchoir dresses itself in gold — and night, gently, draws near.
The music climbs, the DJ takes the decks. The floor fills — and Le Perchoir becomes where the Tunis night gathers.
By day, simply wander up — lunch facing the bay, an aperitif at golden hour, no booking needed. At night, from 10pm, the evening is reserved — by telephone only.
Book your evening