Tel Aviv and Old Jaffa

Our first day on the land was a tiring but exciting one. With little information, we boarded a bus whose driver said he would get us to Tel Aviv. He let us off at a corner and told us to go back and turn right. Seeing a bus stop, we ignored his instructions, nearly boarding a bus going in the opposite direction to Lod. Finally on a bus we believed headed toward the central bus station we hoped we'd know when to jump off. The stop was spotted, but not what we expected. The station was like a huge bus garage making our street directions almost pointless in the maze of stores and terminals. When we showed our hostel directions to a group of people, Nadia, a local, said she lived near where we were going so we followed her through the maze. Everything is about as I pictured. The streets are a bustle of activity with beautiful stores next to piles of rubble, trash overflowing a nearby alley, the scents of wonderful food overtaking the air. Nadia pointed us a few blocks ahead and told us where to go. The Florentine hostel was everything I hoped, but it was booked. The owner said he really wished he could host us "strong young men with big backpacks," but he already had too many people sleeping on the couches in the lounge. He directed us on to another hostel in Old Joffa.

There, we found another beautiful place to stay just a few blocks from the coast. The sounds of the city mixed with the surf and the prayers from the nearby minaret. After leaving our bags, Matt and I headed to the city, grabbing an amazing meal of "dost" - something we hope to find again. It was like a bagel filled with cheese, olives, boiled eggs, mushrooms, and tuna fish, grilled like a panini. A walk along the Mediterranean completed our day and a sound sleep was in order.

Our trip to Jerusalem was a life and death adventure in the typical sherut. The drivers here are described as "aggressive and defensive" at the same time. If there is a spot open in traffic, they will race for it. They take turns at the fastest speed possible and fight to be at the head of the pack. At the same time, they are continually honking, not so much out of road rage, but rather to let other drivers know where they are - that they are passing or coming up behind. The sherut driver dropped us off and pointed us "up the hill and then continuing down the small path." Unfortunately we took the wrong of 4 small paths and ended up at the bottom rather than the top of Mount Zion. With a bit of uphill hiking, and the scaling of a few fences, we reached our destination.