Long before there was Tunis, there was Carthage, the ancient Phoenician port city that was Rome’s arch-rival for centuries. In the epic poem the Aeneid, the Roman poet Virgil tells how Carthage’s founder, queen Dido, fled Tyre in present-day Lebanon and landed in North Africa. When she pleaded for a scrap of land from the leader of the local tribe, he tossed an ox hide on the ground, saying she could have the land the hide covered. In a deft move of both semantics and surgery, she sliced the hide into thin ribbons and encircled an entire hill just above the port with it. This is Byrsa Hill, the best place to start a day of exploring the Punic and Roman ruins of Carthage.

At first glance, Byrsa Hill, which is dotted with villas and mansions, looks more like Beverly Hills than a Unesco World Heritage site. But unlike Beverly Hills, if you want to put a pool in your Byrsa backyard, you better call an archaeologist first. For centuries, one civilisation after another built homes on this piece of prime real estate, and digging just a few metres down can turn up African red slip pottery or the remains of a Roman mosaic.

While the hilltop offers sweeping views of the Mediterranean Sea and a few Punic and Roman-era ruins, its main attraction, The Carthage Museum, is closed for renovation until further notice. Instead, stick to the sites at the foot of the hill: one ticket gets you into all eight major sites, which are within walking distance or a short cab ride.

My favourite of the eight is the Tophet, or Punic, cemetery. It may be one of Carthage’s more diminutive sites, but its grisly history lends it an outsized role. Here, the ancient Phoenicians offered child sacrifices to the goddess Tanit and commemorated each one by erecting a sacrificial stone engraved with her image: a circle perched on a triangle, with outstretched arms. Dozens of these stones are clustered among a grotto of palms, in a placid but eerie scene.