Arriving in Matmata, Northern Tunisia I felt like I had landed on the moon it was so barren and desolate. For Star Wars fans it’s almost more surreal spending a week with the desert dwellers than spending two hours in a cinema watching the movie, so bizarre is the behaviour and lifestyle of the Berbers.

Its surreal landscape provided the ideal backdrop, with ancient architecture, weird Lunar surface, and miles of dusty empty barren wasteland. This visually inspired movie put the wilderness town of Matmata on the map, making it as important as Carthage and as fun as a week on the beach. Why? Because it is no ordinary town with its large sign saying Star Wars was filmed here. Not only do the occupants live in caves, but the children will chase after you and say classic lines like "I’m arresting you for driving without wheels" and instead of saying good-bye utter "May the force be with you." Over 5000 people live in Matmata, in around 700 underground caves set into a shallow valley of sulphur, which is something between hard packed earth and crumbly sandstone. The caves are around 25ft deep to 35 ft to 50ft wide and are entered through a tunnel. Half expecting Darth Vader to pop his head out of a hold brandishing a saber, I decided not to investigate these strange dwellings further as some of the Berbers had erected a huge barbed wire fences to stop tourists intruding on their lives.

Some of the more traditional Berbers are resentful of the mass tourism Star Wars has brought to their desert outpost. Where as others have cashed in on the kudos by making wooden replicas of characters such as Luke Skywalker to sell to visiting film buffs. It is the coke cans turned into miniature R2-D2s that are quite inspired.

One old Berber woman makes beautiful woollen Wookie monsters, that look like a cross between a donkey and a furry sheep. For the more cultural, the local traditional weavings and pottery make beautiful tourist curios.

The most famous Berber in the area is Fatama, whose arms and face are covered with geometric tattoos. She wears traditional woven woollen clothes, with a woollen sheet on her head in shades of blue, with multi-coloured lines woven across the width. She enjoys demonstrating the local crafts and in particular producing flour using two pieces of stone and grinding it very fast. Although it does not feel very authentic, Fatama does give a valuable incite into how the Berbers live.

In Matmata it’s also possible to stay in one of the four cave hotels and although the food is basic the ambience of the unusual setting more than makes up for it. The caves themselves are not natural as I first thought, but man made.

Tufta makes poor bricks, but excellent caves, and a hole in the ground creates a more equitable temperature throughout the year. The desert is always hot and escaping from the harsh sunlight is vital for the survival of these colourful people.

Leaving Matmata to go to more remote areas of the desert requires having your own transport and an extremely good compass. The smaller unspoilt cave villages on the edge of the desert hardly ever see visitors, giving one a much better feel for how authentic Tunisian cave dwellers live.

Most of them still get around by donkey and the scenes of women washing clothes and carrying them home in baskets is reminiscent of biblical times. Except Matmata, where people can afford cars because of the town’s new found wealth, most people get around by camels. However one travels, whether it be on the back of a donkey, camel, bicycle or in a car it is easy to get lost as all the major land marks are underground.

Wherever you stand the area is simply miles upon miles of the same dusty, wind swept wilderness. At one point, looking out over the dunes trying yet again to work out where the hell I was before driving in yet more circles, I remember thinking my dilemma was not dissimilar to that of R2-D2 the robot when C3PO asks "How did we get into this mess?"

R2-D2 replied Bleep, blip, poot, honk-honk. Something I often feel like saying to my map reading travelling companion, who has got us lost yet again.

Juliet Coombe