From Africa, to Asia, Again

It took me 7 hours to get from Tel Aviv to Cairo two months ago; my trip back to Jerusalem took 32 hours.

Brief notes for the interested:
The border was indeed closed for Yom Kippur and I sat on my bag with a whole bunch of others at the Taba bus station for five hours as we waited for it to open again. the border crossing itself was less stressful and difficult than I was expecting, although the trinity of beautiful Israeli girls who searched though my bags, examined my books and read my journal were quite interested by all the old stuff i have managed to accumulate... 1950s identity cards, discontinued Iraqi banknotes with Saddam's face, a 1970s postcard depicting an Israeli military parade. We had many laughs together, oh they were some good times, just me and the babes, sifting through my dirty underwear, etc, etc.

But they let me through, and a Hungarian guy and I head into Eilat, where we took a hostel room, went out to get fruit juice, and walked along the beachfront, where young people strut and get slingshotted from a massive flashing tower and where, after the Hungarian went to bed, I alone went hiphop dancing along with a large contingent of Ethiopian Israelis in tiny clothes who shake their booty good but who didn't really want to dance with me, alas.

And then, the bus to Jerusalem, past the Dead Sea, past Masada, through the West Bank and past Jericho. And it's Shabbat, it's starting now, so we are quickly ejected outside the bus station, and I take a taxi to the Damascus Gate, and shit, I've left my wallet in the bus. It has not much money in it, but both my bankcards. But, it's Shabbat, so the bus sits quiet and disused in the locked station, and hopefully, tonight, it will be retrieved.

So, Jerusalem, al-Quds. I start training tomorrow, in Ramallah. Everything is fresh and exciting and good, and I am almost panting with anticipation. You will all know more soon.