Got up at 6 to get bus to Jerusalem. To our relief the farmer's wife paid us the correct dosh for our ten days' work. Unfortunately, though, she backtracked on her offer to drive us to the main road, instead directing us to the school bus. It was fairly obvious that arsehole Dover was behind this move.
We got the bus at 8.30 and were very pleased to discover that the bus stopped at a resort on the Dead Sea and we were allowed twenty minutes to wander around the beach. Nobody was in the water except a fat, ugly woman whose generous cleavage floated repulsively in the salty water. The water really is unbelievably salty. When we moved our hands around in the water we could see a sort of haze caused by the salt.
We arrived at Jerusalem at 11.30 and were immediately directed to a hostel in the Old City (the Old City Hostel). The Old City is a very interesting and very crowded place. Four people have been stabbed here in the last year. I didn't feel easy walking around the dark passages in the evening. There are many Palestinians in this area. They have the same sales tactics as the Caireans. In other words they pestered us until we wanted to punch their lights out.
While we were relaxing in our dormitory, we overheard a conversation between a European guy and the Palestinian owner of the hostel. The Arab's father and brother have been chucked in prison so they need to employ a few backpackers to clean the hostel and meet potential residents at the bus station. Actually 'employ' is perhaps a misnomer. Their employment is quite different from what would be described as such in Britain. In return for six hours' work they get to stay in the hostel free (i.e., they earn 10 shekels a day). The argument started because the European had been sick for about a week and the proprietary family wanted to charge him the 10 shekels for each day he hadn't worked. He managed to talk his way out of this though.
For our evening meal we had a very expensive fish and chip dish. It was pathetically small and cost 18 shekels. I am not finding it easy to warm to the Arab or Israeli trades people.
At the tourist office we found out that there are buses from Tel Aviv to Cairo on Sundays and Thursdays only. This is an incredible stroke of luck as we fly from Cairo late on Thursday night.
We got the bus at 8.30 and were very pleased to discover that the bus stopped at a resort on the Dead Sea and we were allowed twenty minutes to wander around the beach. Nobody was in the water except a fat, ugly woman whose generous cleavage floated repulsively in the salty water. The water really is unbelievably salty. When we moved our hands around in the water we could see a sort of haze caused by the salt.
Fat woman in Dead Sea.
We arrived at Jerusalem at 11.30 and were immediately directed to a hostel in the Old City (the Old City Hostel). The Old City is a very interesting and very crowded place. Four people have been stabbed here in the last year. I didn't feel easy walking around the dark passages in the evening. There are many Palestinians in this area. They have the same sales tactics as the Caireans. In other words they pestered us until we wanted to punch their lights out.
While we were relaxing in our dormitory, we overheard a conversation between a European guy and the Palestinian owner of the hostel. The Arab's father and brother have been chucked in prison so they need to employ a few backpackers to clean the hostel and meet potential residents at the bus station. Actually 'employ' is perhaps a misnomer. Their employment is quite different from what would be described as such in Britain. In return for six hours' work they get to stay in the hostel free (i.e., they earn 10 shekels a day). The argument started because the European had been sick for about a week and the proprietary family wanted to charge him the 10 shekels for each day he hadn't worked. He managed to talk his way out of this though.
For our evening meal we had a very expensive fish and chip dish. It was pathetically small and cost 18 shekels. I am not finding it easy to warm to the Arab or Israeli trades people.
At the tourist office we found out that there are buses from Tel Aviv to Cairo on Sundays and Thursdays only. This is an incredible stroke of luck as we fly from Cairo late on Thursday night.
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