Day Thirty-Nine

Outside the miklat. A consolidation of the past ten days –

Thursday – Aussie came back to the kibbutz!!! The night after my crazy knee-jerk attempt to get to Lod, he came bearing the gift of Power Espresso Vodka, and then we collapsed ontop of the miklat. It was also the last day of two of the London girls on the kibbutz. I’ll miss them too. Then, the next day, Aussie went back to Lod. I think I might have died a little inside, but that is just as likely the hangover and sleep deprivation.

Sunday – got up v early (after getting in at 4am) to go and meet Aussie guy in Haifa, as he is on hofesh, so I was allowed to take three days off too, so we could go travelling.

The bus journey up was ok, although I took a downturn when I was suddenly awoken from my nap to realise we’d already pulled into Haifa tachana merkazit, and that all the other passengers had already left the bus. Screaming, ‘nahag, nahag, arête bavakasha!’ (‘driver, driver, stop [French] please!) the driver did an emergency stop and I fell off the back seat, breaking my fall with my arm and mashing my legs into the aisle. Oww. Still, at least it proved my reflexes were quick – it could’ve been worse: I could’ve broken my neck or something!

We met at the Bahai gardens but, due to various cock-ups between us, arrived 4 minutes late for the guided tour and so didn't properly see the gardens. We had a quick walk around – they were beautiful – the headed for the cablecars down (in Hebrish, ‘Cablecars’) whereupon I remembered I have an extreme dislike of heights, and an intense fear of cablecars in particular. Then we went to Eliyahu HaNavi’s cave, where he was supposed to have stopped off and rested before his encounter with the prophets of Baal (Nach – I think Melachim?) Then we went for a walk, and met with Aussie guy’s mates from the Home Country.

I tried, I really did, to get past their accents. And I did, for the most part, until one of his friends, ordering something, said, ‘look at me’, but it sounded highly reminiscent of a Kath and Kim saying – ‘look at mooooooy!’ so I had a bit of a snigger.

Knackered, I left Haifa and got the bus back to Kibbutz.

Monday – another early start, to meet Aussie in Jeru. We went to the shuk, then caught a bus and walked around the Hebrew U campus for ever, looking in vain for the fabled ‘Museum on the Seam’. After an hour, we still hadn’t found it, which upset me because I thought I’d finally get to see it, on this trip.  Alas.

                From there, we took a bus to the Old City, where we went to the ‘Tower of David’ museum, which I’ve always always always wanted to go to, and have walked past a million times without doing so. It was BRILLIANT.  It was more a history of Jerusalem – from the first stone being laid until the end of the British Empire, and the establishment of the Medinat Yisrael. Totally worth the 30 shek ticket price! From there, we met with Holland, Aussie girl and Frenchie, and one of my mates from London.  We had a Bonkers Bagel – Holland’s first ever bagel – and went to the Kotel.

                After I’d had a bit of a daven., I went to sit down on the wall at the back of the Kotel enclosure with my friend. We were sitting and chatting etc...and I was idly looking around, taking in the splendour of the Kotel itself, when I saw a man, strangely dressed, walk by with a woman.

Could Noel Fielding really be at the Kotel? Surely not, I thought.

I decided to walk along behind the man for a bit, and see if he spoke. Then if it wasn’t him, I’d drop back and life would continue as normal. I didn't plan for what might happen if it was him.

It was him.

I can’t remember the encounter entirely, due to the massive adrenaline rush at the time, but I remembered I did not have a camera, so I ran (in the Kotel enclosure!!) back to Holland, to schlep her over to take loadsa photos of me and him. It turned out his friend – the woman next to him – was Jewish and invited him to Israel for a bit, and hence he was here. How awesome. We were talking for about ten minutes, and I told him I’d been trying again and again to bring The Boosh to the Australians – indeed, my impressions of Old Greg, particularly when anyone mentioned Baileys, often left them looking puzzled and concerned for my general mental health. I even nearly got invited to go drinking with him in Tel Aviv on Shabbat!!

                Then, buzzing, we went to Mamilla, before I met up with an old friend for a pancake – was really great to see him! – and then we all went back to the kibbutz.

Thursday – Aussie and I decided not to schlep to Ein Gedi, so we went to Yafo instead. The markets weren’t as interesting as I remembered, but I still had a really nice time. I randomly bought a drum,  for reasons only partly known to myself, other than I’ve always really wanted one, and Aussie guy – bless – schlepped it for me, the whole day. Then we walked from Yafo to Tel Aviv, and had a Burger King.  We also went to the Azrielli center, as one of my mates from London said he’d meet us there. Two hours later, and no progress on this, we called it a day and went home.

Hat was the first night the kibbutz stopped providing food for the mitnadvim at dinner, so we had pizza out. It was surprisingly very good.