PART 2 – THE SIDE

I was up super early on Day 2, and after a brief breakfast headed to the meeting place. But not before stopping for a coffee. “One flat white please” I said. The man looked at me stupidly. Do you want a long or short espresso, white or black? Right mate, I’ll teach you, then gave the barista a “how to make coffee lesson” before boarding the tour bus to Jerusalem.

The tour started completely differently to the previous day, with our first stop at some divvy Elvis bar. The tour guide was a 7 language speaking sleazy Israeli guy. From the outset the youth of the country isn’t something that is mentioned. It is the fact that the Jews are getting back what was theirs from thousands of years ago. He showed us the 9/11 memorial which to me seemed weird (why any country needs a memorial for something that happened outside theirs and not specifically involving that country is strange, but each to their own i.e. France). Then we were shown the wall from a distance, which was built in 2000, spanning over 700kms it was built to protect the Israeli people from terrorists and suicide bombers (none of which I saw yesterday), however these are the words of my tour guide. He also advised that this wall is the first time that Palestinians were actually recognised and given their own country. I’m unsure at this point, why this man hasn’t been given a medal. The other thing I’m unsure of, is that if the Jews were there thousands of years ago, where were the Muslims? This is answered to me at out next stop – the Jerusalem old town.

Going through Jerusalem old town I was in awe by the history. There is an element of craziness as you see the Jews, Muslims and Christians living harmoniously, and crossing over in to each other’s quarters.

We started off in the Armenian quarter which was stunning, the women WOW! Upon our arrival to the Jewish section we were greeted by a middle age Jewish woman losing her marbles because some of the girls in our group had just walked through the gates and were yet to pop their shawls on to cover their shoulders. We had just passed security so our tour guide was like, "rack off crazy lady.. calm your farm!" – well at least, that’s what I think our guide said to her! I was showing my defiance by wearing a shawl with sculls and flowers / actually it’s just the only one I own. We then went on to the Western Wall, which I thought was called the Weeping wall as everyone was crying and touchy touchy intense… mindful that Jesus was Jewish I was respectful, however I’m Christian and therefore was happy to keep my distance and let them do their crying touchy touchy thingy.

We meandered through to the Muslim section, and through the stations where Jesus carried the cross as we went towards the Christian section. The markets, falafel, clothes and scent - everything felt Middle Eastern.

I felt again al tingly and close to my home boy when going past the stations where Jesus fell carrying the cross. Our next stop, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was breath taking. Created in 300 AD, the church is over the tomb where Jesus is believed to have been  buried. I again skipped the line to see the Sepulchre and went to another tomb, where it is also rumoured to be a potential burial site. I felt nothing except claustrophobic there though. 

We were given free time, so I tried to see every corner of the church and made my way up the stairs (the one without the massive Filipino worshipper line up. I bought a candle and said a prayer and tried to have a moment to myself in the crowd, praying to Nonna to bring me a hot, single 6'4 man with brown hair and blue eyes... just joking ;-)

Later we were taken to all the overrated expensive tourist traps by our dodgy tour guide that took us to his mates place for commission. I got over his marriage requests and started openly mocking him.

We then hopped on the bus for our trip to the Dead Sea. Don't ask me about the scenery. I spent most of my time catching up on sleep. 

Descending towards the Dead Sea, I looked for the familiarity of someone I knew from the group to mind my things. Namely there was no way my Breitling was going for a swim in 10 x stronger than normal salt water salt water. I was lucky to spot an American couple from the tour the day before. They too had had a different tour this day than yesterday. We decided that floating in the sea we couldn’t solve the world’s problems nor figure it all out, except I did say perhaps it would be better for the world if Trump stayed off twitter. Andrew replied ‘he did broker a deal with the nuke man’… this is the second time in two days I’d heard such a thing, the first time was the Spaniard yesterday. I myself didn’t have the heart to explain that Hitler himself committed  to then British PM Neville Chamberlain that he would not invade Czechoslovakia and on September 1938 he did just that starting WW2.

Feeling 10 years younger I was super tired and messaged the Aussie born Prague living guy i'd met the previous night to see if he was keen for dins. We went to a place local and ordered the largest pizza I’ve ever eaten. I called it early as was super tired from two 6am starts in a row.

The next morning I decided to do a brunch date so headed local for some eggs Bene. It was one of those places where you left your name on a list even though there were still available seats visible, and they made you wait anyway. This was when I saw the aforementioned plain clothed, automatic gun man... Not necessary at breaky dude! Also, the place was like Starbucks and stuffed my name ( I broke my own rule and gave them my actual name), so I lost my space in the queue and some other guy who hadn’t waited near as long was given a table first. Super hangry I told them this was absurd and they were going to then make the guy wait longer, then I forced myself on him and was like “I’m sure we can sit together!” Turns out Nico was Italian, it was his last day in Tel Aviv, and we had a lovely breaky together where we talked mostly about our Nonnas. Nico still had his so I was super jealous.

After breaky I tested my luck to see if I could check in to the nice hotel early and got there at midday. I was in luck. And almost instantaneously put my bikini on and hit the pool deck. I asked for a cocktail and was given a tequila based cocktail on the house. Again, a first. That night I treated myself to the second best rated restaurant in Tel Aviv. You can read my review here: https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/ShowUserReviews-g293984-d10101992-r578973776-Salva_Vida-Tel_Aviv_Tel_Aviv_District.html#SHOW_USER_REVIEW  the only reason they got 3 stars was because of the free tequila shot.

Jaffas crappy flea market

The next morning I got up early to walk to Jaffa and check it out. Dirty and average after you’ve seen the Jerusalem old town. Think it is meant to be like the edgy Brunswick vibe, but I found it more North End Road. I headed back, watched some surfing and then did some more baking before booking my GET to the airport.

I arrived at the airport and joined a massive queue. Whilst I had carry on size bags, I decided as I was so early I would join the queue and check in my liquids rather than line up. I was told by my housemate that security going in was strict and he got questioned quite a bit. Well I walked straight in, the security officer didn’t even ask me where I was staying. It was the complete opposite when I was leaving however. First the lady saw my Turkey stamps – when did you go to Turkey, why did you go to Turkey, who did you go to Turkey with. Where did you stay? “I was sailing on a yacht, we stopped at many places, went on a Medsailors tour”. Then the eagle eyed lady spotted my Morroco stamp! ‘why were you in Morocco, where did you go, who did you go with?’ Me: “I went with 6 friends… she ‘’name the friends” me: “Bianca, Tosh, Robbie, Ben, then there was me, then I can’t remember the sixth person!” Sorry Nev, the pressure!!! How could I forget Nev?!

10 years Younger?

Tel Aviv

Boarding the plane I myself was a bit taken aback when I was asked to move seats as a Jewish man didn’t want to sit next to a woman. Made me say out loud, it is 2018 and reminded me having been in Dublin last week that next week is a big date for them – to vote for abortion, for vote for female rights. I am Catholic, and I have myself walked out of mass when the sermon by the priest was about living the ‘Catholic way’ and ‘if anyone you know is thinking of having an abortion’ you should guide them. What I say to that is who cares what some old Indian priest says about a woman’s body? Please sort out the indiscretion of the Catholic Church themselves before you preach to me or other women in your sermon. Perhaps extremists in all religions and walks of lives should realise it is the 21^st century and time to move on, get a new hairstyle and suit while you are at it old mate and no worries, I didn’t need a ‘thank-you’ for moving chairs, however general manners should be taught regardless.

Weird place, though I had a ball. I say 100% if you are heading to Tel Aviv, you must MUST make at least a day trip to Jerusalem to see the Old town and if you can, get to Palestine, it is so Middle Eastern compared and the people were all super friendly. See what you too think about it all. 5 spuds.

PART 1 - THE OTHER SIDE

I landed late in Tel Aviv –after mid night in 38 degree heat on a holy day where public transport doesn’t run, Friday until Saturday evening. It was 1:30am before I got to the hostel to check in. I asked the man at reception what time my tour left in the morning, and he said which tour? I said “the best of the West Bank” and he replied “half 6”, to which I replied “grim” and he replied “you’re going to the West Bank what do you expect?” I left that there and it was nearer 2 when I was trying to put the sheets on my upper bunk bend without waking everyone up. The upper bunk deserves a mention in itself as it has no edge piece, so I spent the night awake, scared to move, in fear I would fall to my death, though merely rolling over. It was also stifling hot – apparently one of the ladies couldn’t sleep with the air conditioner and fan on, so we all had to die in 38 degree heat that rose. Bearing in mind I had come from shitty miserable London (though I’m told it came good as soon as I left and has been sunny and 27 ever since).  

So on no sleep (was a mixture of too hot to sleep, too scared to roll over and too scared I would miss the alarm that prevented me from sleep), I woke up for my half 6am pickup, it was in my haste of the evening prior to leave the airport, that I remembered I didn’t get any money out. Was super lucky I was befriended by a (I was going to say hot Spaniard, but realised he may read this as we are now facey friends, however for benefit of the story…) named Fernando from Madrid wearing a Stussy T-shirt (cue Stussy sign S in 1990 Grade 1 with Miss Bryce) for the journey, and he paid for me the whole day until I got money out to pay him back.

A brief pick up at Jerusalem, where our Palestinian tour guide joined us. This is rare, as because it was Easter and he is Christian, he was able to meet us on the Israeli side, and go through the check point to Palestine with us.

I must say, I expected more security there and back, but it seemed as we are a bus, and our number plates matched according to whatever regime place we were going to and from, we were exempt. The middle ground is eerie. Barbed wire and war like. In case you can’t be bothered Wiki-ing: ‘the West Bank is an area of 5,628 square kilometres, which comprises 21.2% of former Mandatory Palestine (excluding Jordan) and has generally rugged mountainous terrain. The total length of the land boundaries of the region are 404 kilometres.’ The area is divided in to three areas:

• Area A: 18% of the West Bank exclusively administered by Palestinian Authority
• Area B: 22% of the West Bank and home to 2.8 million Palestinians, administered by both the Palestinian Authority and Israelis, this area is being geared up to be handed over to the Palestinian people.
• Area C: all other areas totalling more than 60% under full Israeli civil and security control this area is restricted for any Palestinian development. This area was supposed to be handed back in part, and basically Israel reneged on the agreement and since 1999 the population has increased from minimal numbers to more than double at 350k, interestingly it is also the home to many of the natural resource – perhaps its best if you carry on the research from here... 

Ramallah

We started the morning Ramallah. Described as the ‘modern, vibrant, cultural capital’ of the West Bank, I’m not entirely convinced by the modernity however was impressed to see there was a KFC (culture). It was then I asked Fernando if there was a Maccas. (My query was later answered at the West Bank Wall where the graffiti artist had created my favourite piece inscribed with “When McDonalds is on the other side of the wall of your outdoor prison… Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.”) 

Yassar Arafats tomb

Enroute we stopped at the tomb of Yassar Arafat. This is a sacred place to the Palestinians…. (apparently as we were told they line up and fill the tomb)…however when we were there, we were the only ones there, except for machine gun hot guard man! Now apart from googling afterwards and the one sided version I heard from our guide, all I remembered of Mr Have a fat (sorry had to be done!) was the man who wears the towel on his head and a picture came to mind where he was shaking the hand of an Israeli politician in front of Bill Clinton. The USA and France are my equal favourites to hate when it comes to politics. Without going in to great detail I believe this picture to be very relevant as both those men won Nobel Peace prizes in 1994, before Arafat was held for 34 months by the Israeli military in his compound/ almost martyred. The French have a memorial in France in honour of Arafat... Of course they do. They also have a memorial in honour of the 9/11 victims. I wonder if they should build a memorial for the Aborigines…oh wait, there is no political motive to. You see, that is why I can’t stand France and politics.   

Jericho

More bus time before heading to Jericho/ aka. the/ or one of the/ oldest places on earth, Jericho has walls dating back to 9,000BC. It is certainly one of the hottest places I’ve been to (and thank the lord, literally it was a cooler day)… The whole time in my head I was thinking about Jericho from the WWE’s “Break the walls down” (insert crying with laughter emoji). It was amazing to see the Mount of Temptation from below. For those playing along, that is said to be where Jesus was tempted by the devil (Matthew 4:8). I was most in awe by the little city etched out in the mountains.

Next we went to Qasr-el-Yahud, the ancient baptism site of Jesus on the banks of the Jordan River. Here to my hilarity we were 5 meters from the Jordanian border, which was a pool lane separator thing. I didn’t get in my white gear and dunk my head in to feel re-born, though I did put my feet in to the muddy water and say a prayer to Nonna. In fact, she was on my mind constantly. The water was delightfully cool against my skin and I’m glad to say my post easter sins are now gone since my feet were baptised. 

Next off we went to the city of Jesus’s birth, Bethlehem. Here, I saw my favourite Banksy piece of a Palestinian extremist throwing flowers on the side of the Walled off Hostel. 

The first thing you notice about Bethlahem is the rubbish everywhere. I was told that the rubbish tip is located in Area B which is in the Israeli dominated mixed zone, and there is a charge for each tonne of rubbish. Again, I’m hearing one side, I will try and explain the other side in more detail in the next blog. The first stop was the Church of Nativity, here it is said Jesus was born. To say I felt close to my home boy is an understatement. I couldn’t stop feeling tingly and thinking of my Nonna, who spent her life believing but never got to see. I didn’t bother to line up to see the cave or grotto that is marked by a silver star as there was a couple of hours line; however we did peek a boo from an adjacent cave that led to that place, from the 15^th Century Church of St Catharine next door, a beaut in herself. The church of Nativity itself has been restored to its former glory and you can tell how beautiful it once was, lots of gold mosaics cover the walls, and mosaic tiles are shown from the original building from the 6^th century. 

Finally we walked through the old city, adjacent to the separation barrier seeing the graffiti art of the likes of Banksy and my local man Lushsux. Our tour guide informed us that the wall was a segregation wall, status wall, the like. It shows supremacy. It was daunting to see the sheer mass of the wall – I would estimate 30meters tall; with guard towers. Ironically it reminded me of the war camps I had visited in Germany, and made me wonder whether we had indeed learnt from our mistakes of the past. I don’t know if I’m reminded of the hunger games or my dear own country that imprisons many seeking asylum on foreign land. I have started to lose faith in humanity and all I care to say is that my belief it that ‘hate breeds hate’. Locking up the majority in hope you are locking up terrorists, makes the general majority that are suppressed become spiteful of their treatment. Generations that are born in to this will be bred with more hatred and dissolution.  But hey, my little blog won’t be the saviour of many. And I will try my best to convey the other opinion in my PART2 BLOG: THE SIDE.

Many people told me or asked me to be safe in the West Bank. If I’m honest I never felt unsafe while I was there, I felt more unsafe at breakfast in Tel Aviv when a plain clothed young man brought his machine gun to breakfast.  I nearly said something, i.e. is it really necessary to bring your machine gun to brunch? I mean this brings me back to part of the reason I felt unsafe in Egypt – who polices the police? Palestine was certainly an eye opener and I am super glad I went and saw it.

Lushsux 

That night I reconvened with the Spaniard – Fernando and we went and bought beers at the off licence and went to the beach to watch the sun set, we then went to have dinner and had cocktails at the Tacorea and drinks on the roof at our hostel where we met some more Spaniards and the Aussie Nowra born Prague living tour guide I went on to hang out with the next night. Was a great ending to a tiring, draining and humid night.