So I was thinking to myself, how does a quintessentially chap from England such as my good self integrate into a society not known for extolling any values common to the Motherland, such as good manners, politeness and the ability to queue with a modicum of good order? Anybody been thinking the same thing? Thought so.
So why the sudden change in style of writing? Well I thought to myself, which is always a bad sign, I appear to be just writing a travelogue and, well, how do you write a travelogue when the whole purpose of me being in Israel is not to have a holiday, but have a life. So let me try a bit harder to make it more observational and try and inject more humour as I've had complaints about the lack of humour (It's so hard when you set the bar so high like I've done in the past ;-), he says without any hint of arrogance).
So let's start with the buses. The quality of your ride on a bus in this country is directly proportional to the amount of money you have paid in comparison to a bus ride in England. In England you pay a Kings ransom to go half a metre down the road. In Israel you pay the same amount to go from Jerusalem to Eilat. However, as recompense for this seemingly unbelievable 'deal', you get an Israeli driver... On Friday I got on a bus, and the driver, perhaps being behind schedule or perhaps just being an Israeli (yes, yes, I know that's me now, but allow me to finish), thinks the best way to make up time is just to close the doors when he thinks everyone's on the bus. Never mind that people might have backpacks or bags that inconveniently get stuck in the doors, causing said driver to blame said passenger for the whole debacle.
Today, I get on a bus and the driver thinks it's best to drive off without having got all the money. I ask for a Kartisiah (a ten ride ticket for those unfamiliar with Israeli buses), and present him with a 100 shekel note. Oh well, I may as well have insulted him, his family and all his descendants. He huffed and puffed, and realising he couldn't get the Kartisiah, give me change, and also clip a ride off the ticket, he decides to slam on the brakes and stop in the middle of the road (actually more of a three lane highway-style affair), which results in me stumbling and crashing into the front of the bus. That would have been OK, if there hadn't been this little teenage girl who unfortunately got crushed by my, how shall we say, generously proportioned body. Poor girl. I mumbled my apologies, glared at the driver, who seemed to still be holding that all the problems occurring were down to me, and took my change and my ticket. The girl seemed OK. These Israelis, tough as old boots...then again she did get off the bus at the next stop clutching her chest...hmm...
Now briefly I'll give you a rundown of my week in no particular order. This week I went to see the Simpsons (film, as opposed to a family in Jerusalem), went to The International Arts and Crafts Fair down by Jaffa Gate at the Sultan's Pool. For Shabbat, I was at cousins in Efrat, which as I've said before, is a wonderful place to go for Shabbat. This week has been a pretty quiet one, which has been good for catching up on sleep.
I'll have some more observations soon.
So why the sudden change in style of writing? Well I thought to myself, which is always a bad sign, I appear to be just writing a travelogue and, well, how do you write a travelogue when the whole purpose of me being in Israel is not to have a holiday, but have a life. So let me try a bit harder to make it more observational and try and inject more humour as I've had complaints about the lack of humour (It's so hard when you set the bar so high like I've done in the past ;-), he says without any hint of arrogance).
So let's start with the buses. The quality of your ride on a bus in this country is directly proportional to the amount of money you have paid in comparison to a bus ride in England. In England you pay a Kings ransom to go half a metre down the road. In Israel you pay the same amount to go from Jerusalem to Eilat. However, as recompense for this seemingly unbelievable 'deal', you get an Israeli driver... On Friday I got on a bus, and the driver, perhaps being behind schedule or perhaps just being an Israeli (yes, yes, I know that's me now, but allow me to finish), thinks the best way to make up time is just to close the doors when he thinks everyone's on the bus. Never mind that people might have backpacks or bags that inconveniently get stuck in the doors, causing said driver to blame said passenger for the whole debacle.
Today, I get on a bus and the driver thinks it's best to drive off without having got all the money. I ask for a Kartisiah (a ten ride ticket for those unfamiliar with Israeli buses), and present him with a 100 shekel note. Oh well, I may as well have insulted him, his family and all his descendants. He huffed and puffed, and realising he couldn't get the Kartisiah, give me change, and also clip a ride off the ticket, he decides to slam on the brakes and stop in the middle of the road (actually more of a three lane highway-style affair), which results in me stumbling and crashing into the front of the bus. That would have been OK, if there hadn't been this little teenage girl who unfortunately got crushed by my, how shall we say, generously proportioned body. Poor girl. I mumbled my apologies, glared at the driver, who seemed to still be holding that all the problems occurring were down to me, and took my change and my ticket. The girl seemed OK. These Israelis, tough as old boots...then again she did get off the bus at the next stop clutching her chest...hmm...
Now briefly I'll give you a rundown of my week in no particular order. This week I went to see the Simpsons (film, as opposed to a family in Jerusalem), went to The International Arts and Crafts Fair down by Jaffa Gate at the Sultan's Pool. For Shabbat, I was at cousins in Efrat, which as I've said before, is a wonderful place to go for Shabbat. This week has been a pretty quiet one, which has been good for catching up on sleep.
I'll have some more observations soon.
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