To Bruges and Beyond.....

Now this is cold

God, I hope so

So it's winter here in Tel Aviv.  A pathetic joke of a winter to be honest.  It's like 1 or 2 days of stormy weather and temperatures below 18, and everybody freaks the fuck out.  I'm a Tasmania mofos - I know winter.  And yes, I understand that I'm not exactly Russian or anything - but they all have hats made out of rabbits and really prepare for that shit.  Winter in Tassie means wearing crop tops with a thin cardigan, because it started off sunny, and then later shivering in the pelting rain and bone numbing winds that blow straight in from Antarctic.  Nevertheless, you suck it up and attend an outdoor oyster festival or whatever, because Tasmanians never cancel anything because of the weather.  My Saturday morning school sport matches used to suck so bad.  On the other hand, Israel just falls to pieces when it gets chilly.  The electricity blows during each hint of wind, the roads close, the traffic lights malfunction, all drains are flooded and and the streets overflow with black foamy water.  Nobody leaves the house unless they have to, and the cafes are empty.  When you do spot someone in the streets they are wearing more clothes than a Jetstar passenger trying to save excess baggage fees on their checked luggage.  Between writing those first few lines and now however, it actually has been cold the last few days - 9 degrees!  I tell you I've never felt it like this before - it's glacial.  At least everyone gets 5 days of wear out of their puffer jackets and Ugg boots that they spent a small fortune on this year instead of 2 days.  My first winter here I wore my coat just once.  

I do find it hard to see pictures of all my loved ones at the beach in Australia at the moment though - I guess that how everyone feels when I start showing off with my Caribbean snaps in July.  Payback really is a bitch Bitches.  But apart from that I'm pretty much happy to be back here.  Of course there is still the continuing threat of a knife in the ribs or a few bullets in the skull when you're having a beer - but at least we didn't have to listen to anyone last week saying 'Aussie Aussie Aussie Oy Oy Oy' - which is sort of like a knife in the earhole really.  

what a bunch of shitty pricks

Something that is startlingly obvious regarding differences between Australia and Tel Aviv is the attitude towards the police.  I would like to point out that never in my life have I seen so many people from so many varied age groups living in fear from the cops, than in Australia.  I remember I used to feel like that as well - the cops would drive by and a pang of terror would hit me right in the guts "What have I done?" I would wonder, checking my rear vision mirror about 20 times a second.  Basically all kinds of stupid things.  The only difference between an everyday citizen and somebody in jail is that the citizen didn't get caught (apart from the murderers, as it's not like we all murder people secretly on a regular basis and just fail to get found out - but we've all done something that could potentially land us in the slammer....haven't we??? Anyone....?).    No wonder we're all paranoid.  Even my mother who picks up other people's dog shit in the park and drops casseroles off to the neighbours when their cat has had an operation is constantly panicking that the cops are going to get her for something.  Just add a lunchtime wine into the equation and it's major meltdown time with some serious amounts of car shuffling.  

He even has nunchucks 

You can't have even smoked a spliff a couple of days before you drive because the Aussie drug testing units might get you.  It's not even about being wasted at the time of driving - but at some time in the previous week. Now that is bullshit.  Besides, stoned drivers are so safe - they drive at about 30km per hour and they check their rear vision mirror constantly, putting their indicator on for about a kilometre before they actually turn off (that's actually a bit annoying).  Plus have you ever seen a stoned person with road rage?  They'd be like "That was a really dangerous lane change dude, but I'm not going to beep you because I'm way too paranoid my horn is abnormally loud".  Stoners are real sweeties - as harmless as a hamster in a kungfu outfit.  They should actually instead make marijuana compulsory for every driver on the road.  Every time you turn on the ignition, a waft of THC vapour should waft out of the vents.  Instead, the very act of having a toke on a nice big J the night before sends everyone into a frenzy.  A friend of mine carries a bottle of apple cider vinegar around in her car, and grabs it and skulls it if the cops even drive by - apparently it works - but euuuggghhhh.  Plus, it's only a matter of time until the pigs catch on that all the seedy looking fuckers (no offence dear buddy) smell like vinegar, and then make them all do a piss test.  

look at the jolly chaps

In Israel not only are there are no alcohol testing police on the roads - they just assume people aren't pissheads here - and they're generally not, well not the Israelis anyway.  It's the foreigners that are the issue.  I guess you just don't take advantage of it or anything (ahem....much).  But it just really takes the pressure off having a wine or two at dinner time.  I hate to admit it, but drink driving is super fun.  Not that I have ever done it in the actual streets near any other cars, but once I drove about 300 metres around the corner from my parents beach house really intoxicated and it was SO exhilarating.  Drink driving may be irresponsible and dangerous, but my god is it entertaining.   They should really bring it back for the fun factor - if it's good enough for the Israeli police force.........The cops in Israel are much more like part of the community - I feel a sort of "There are the dear old law enforcers, look at their smart uniforms" reaction when I see them here.  It's like they have a kindly attitude to tourists as well - just pull the tourist card when you get pulled for an illegal turn and they'll end up telling you where to go to get really tasty muffins, completely forgetting your indiscretions.

sorry - I realise this can never be unseen

Something else I'm mighty pleased about in Israel is that there are no spiders lurking about the place. You can leave piles of clothes on the floor and never even contemplate shaking them out.  Spiders really are everywhere in Australia.  Why do they like it so much there?  They're always hanging around in dark corners and building their grotty little webs in crevices you sometimes need to put your hand into.  You basically have to keep a constant eye out for them.  They go on beds, in shoes all over the walls.  They run so fast on their  horrid little legs. And they don't seem afraid - they honestly seem like they want to fuck you up.  Every single year I go home I find a whitetail spider hiding out inside my clothes.  These bastards bite and bite hard.  I bet I'd be one of the few who'd be allergic to them as well.  I'd get bitten on the cheek and the whole side of my face would slowly rot away to the bone.  You don't want to mess with a whitetail.  So it was with horror that I saw a warning attributed to the Red Cross about a new spider that was taking over some Aussie turf.  This warning was accompanied by pictures of thumbs rotting apart.  That is just fucking wonderful.  Why a new one - why?  How come cute things like whales and polar bears go extinct and spiders keep on reinventing themselves?  It seems unjust.  I'd even prefer the Dodo even though they look like completely stupid fools.  Not that stupid things deserve to die, but they should be moderately high up on the list (think of all the politicians we could cull with this guideline in place).......

you poor pathetic loser 

This was actually caused by a snake bite - I just thought I'd put it in to fuck you all up

I realise that giving my reasons to be happy for being back here as being 'no spiders' and 'being able to drunk drive without a care in the world' sound a bit weak (ahem....and criminal) - so let me think of some more......um.......did I mention the hummus?  Though to be honest I'm over hummus as well - too much farting - it's getting socially awkward.  I can't even bang on about the weather being great right now because it has been all kinds of chilly, as previously mentioned.

There is however, something else very pleasing though - the location of Israel in relation to tons of great holiday spots.  I once mentioned this point to a friend of mine and she said "Let me get this straight....one of your positives about living in Israel is that it is really convenient to leave it"  I felt slightly bad after that, mainly because it was true.  With that point in mind however, it was very easy for my husband to book and plan a three night mystery tour somewhere abroad to celebrate my birthday.

I'm at the airport, with my confused face......

Birthdays are awkward these days - there's a sort of expectation that you want to celebrate it for a start.  I have a lot of contradictory behaviours surrounding my birthday - I try to avoid the Happy Birthday wishes, yet I make a list of people that forgot me and exact my revenge throughout the year.  Secondly, all I really care about is getting loot.  I really want presents, make no mistake about it.  However, when I'm actually given them I feel awkward and really don't want to open them.  Especially in front of the gift giver.  I feel their beady eyes on me, watching my reaction, needing to be reassured that they chose right.  I always feel my reaction is fake too - even when I really love it. I usually go with a "Oh my god!  I love it!  Wow that's fantastic, thank you so much".  If I'm given clothing or jewellery or perfume I feel obligated to wear it immediately "I'll put it on now, I love it"!  I become eager to prove my love of the gift.  It's exhausting.  So basically I'm a hideous little ingrate and I recommend saving your money.

Yep - the beer is everything it promises

You've got to be happy when the beginning of a mystery tour starts off with a trip to the airport.  In fact if it doesn't start off with a nice drive to the International Terminal, then you can basically write that journey off as a total waste of time.  I found out, upon arrival at the check in desk, that we were off to Belgium.  So far so good.  Then after a four hour flight, we got in a hire car and made our way to our final destination..........da da da da da.........Bruges!!!  Bruges is basically a museum town - it is quaint and cobblestoned and cute.  They light it up at night with all these incredible yellowish spotlights - it's da shiz.  Also it has 50 gourmet chocolate shops,  amazing beer and is the homeland of french fries.  So basically with choccy, brewskis and chips on the menu day and night it was not going to be a health trip.  I ate so much I couldn't get my Spanx over my gut.  Bruges also has a special meaning for us - namely, when I worked in Japan I once took a job doing a pre-recorded voice-over to be played during a wedding.  The wedding company was called Ans-Bruges.  They were obviously channelling the European theme as the Japanese like to do.  Anyway, I have no idea why the hell they wanted a touch of bogan-speak at their wedding, but apparently they did.  My announcement went something like this;

"Welcome Ladies, Welcome Gentlemen - Today, this day, March 3rd 2005 - we come together to celebrate this marriage of Ryosuuke (this name required a coupe of takes) and Yumiko.  Marriage is a special thing, and today, this day, is a special day.  So now, with no further ado, it is time to declare to you all........Let the Ans-Bruges wedding ceremony COMMENCE!!!!" (it took a couple of takes to really nail the frenzy of excitement).

 The trouble with this, is that not a single soul there would have understood a word I was saying, but I guess many people like a weird foreign voice belting something unintelligible from the speakers at their wedding.  The company didn't exactly ask me back for the next wedding though, so maybe it didn't go down as well as they anticipated.

Present for your Mummy?

Bruges really is a magical place.  Made even more magical that the kids were thousands of kms away.  They didn't give a shit that we'd gone either.  They were counting the days until we left down with utter joy - a combination of being able to stay with their beloved auntie and also that they were going to get landed with a present upon our return.  But to be brutally honest I didn't miss them at all either - what is that?  Has my cold heart turned finally to stone?  My husband had organised everything - romantic hotel, incredible restaurants, fun things to do.  Sometimes we'd just go into a chocolate shop handpick a few exquisite choccies with a pair of tongs, shove 'em in a bag and just wander around stuffing our faces with them.  A surprise trip to the chocolate capital of Europe - he knows me so so well.....

They call it The Jungle" because they feel like animals

We also took a little drive to the sea by Calais, which was about 70km away.  It was grim.  Absolutely fucking grim.  The place has become a transit point for refugees trying to get on boats heading for the UK.  The town was filled with people from all corners of the world escaping wars, famine and hardship.  Thousands of them live in a makeshift refugee 'camp' (really a few hundred shitty tents) on the outskirts of the city, known as 'the jungle' - it is really  an enclave of a sub-third-world country.  The conditions are obscenely bad - sewage and sanitary issues so appalling that dysentery and gangrene are rife.  Trying anything to get the hell out of there, desperate migrants die regularly from being electrocuted by fences designed to block access to the Eurostar (the train that connects France to the UK, going under the English Channel) - while many are severely injured falling from high walls and fences, and some are killed on the train tracks.  

They try everyday to get to the UK - but what is waiting for them there?

So many people with so little

As we attempted to drive to the port we were directed away by the French police who had closed the roads and wouldn't let anyone through.  "What's happening?" we asked a couple of young men - one from Bangladesh and one from West Africa.  "Refugees tried to get on a boat going to England" they replied.  It turned out that there had been a demonstration by 2000 people in support of the refugees.  During this time, 200 asylum seekers had stormed the port, with 50 of them actually boarding a boat bound for the UK, but they were locked out by the crew.  They were eventually removed by the police.  Those poor desperate bastards.  What is to become of them? 

To be honest I felt sick driving back to Bruges.  Off I was going to have a lovely bath in my hotel room, have a couple of champagnes by a fire in the hotel bar, and then go out for dinner in my cosy warm clothes before coming back to the crisp white hotel sheets of my comfortable bed. There is no justification why I should have these privileges and others should not.  What have any of us done to be so incredibly fortunate? Born in the right place at the right time -is it really that random.....?  The memory of witnessing the suffering of others still keeps coming over me in waves.  It remains beyond unsettling.

Thinking about really actually becoming a better person this year - doing things like wrapping blankets around refugees, cycling 500km for spinal bifida and fostering burnt echidnas - got me thinking about everybody's favourite good guy, the dude we all inspire to be - Good Guy Greg.  Otherwise known as the meme that has been doing the rounds for the last 2 years.  I'm not sure if you're familiar with it - but every variation shows a photo of "Greg" - a loveable looking lout with stubble, a joint and a friendliness that emanates from the photo.  You want to be friends with Greg before you even read the text.  Greg is the smoothest but most genuine dude in town.  He does things like 'opens a loaf of bread and eats the first end slice'.  He also 'thinks your sister is hot, but doesn't fuck her'.  Everybody loves good guy Greg.  See a few examples for yourself.....

We've all been there.....

Sometimes I strive to follow in Greg's footsteps - I frequently clean strangers urine spray off the toilet seat so the person coming behind me doesn't suffer.  Once I even cleaned a random blob of poo off the back of a toilet seat in an airport toilet that was later discovered to be done by my sister (I always wondered who the fuck did ghetto moves like that - turns out it's your own family).  Sometimes I buy sleeping homeless people ciggies and stick them under their arms - forget worrying about contributing to cancer, these dudes probably welcome death.  Good Guy Em.  However, I am aware that I may have committed a major "good guy" faux pas a couple of paragraphs ago and so I've made myself a Good Guy Greg meme (there is actually a website in which you can do this - try it, it's fun - and share it with me) in honour of that gross error.

Good Guy Greg........;

Sorry dudes

Another Year Already? Fuck.

yes, yes, very nice.....

Surely I'm not alone in despairing about the sands of time.  Every year rolls on,  the march of certainty bringing with it a whole new myriad of misery that we have no idea how to anticipate or deal with.  Another 365 days of wasted existence, and further examples of what useless piles of crap we all are.  None of us are ever going to be better people, none of us.  Go back to the couch and take a whole container of cheap ice-cream and some Homebrand Twisties with you, as you watch re-runs of crap that sucked the first time, and sob into your wretched realisation of personal failure.

I googled 'wasted lives' and got this - to me this looks more like a good time

hello lover

Happy New Year Everyone. I always like to start off my first post of the year with some inspirational stuff.  Honestly, I'm doing you all a favour.  If you hit rock bottom in early January then the only place to go is up.  Really it is.  Sink to a whole new all-time low first - that's all you have to do to feel better.  In that frame of mind I went to the corner store today and bought a jar of Dulce du Leche (for all you thickies it is basically a jar of thick caramel weighing in at about 20 000 calories......per mouthful).  Fucking Christ all mighty that shit is good.  I am not exaggerating when I say I've eyed it off about 4 times a week for the last 2 years and two months.  That is a total of 448 times, yet, trying to be a better person I never allowed myself to go there.  Well I have embraced the year of surrender to the misery, and let me tell you it is glorious to swallow it down.

I always get a little 'introspective' at the end of a vacation.  Yes, it was fabulous.  Yes I was almost drunk with feelings of popularity and worthiness.....but that's over now.  I'm back to sitting around in my underpants and uggboots and pretending that I am actually going to get that book I'm always banging on about, written.  At last.  At long long last.  Unfortunately I can't wish it into existence - where's fucking Rumpelstiltskin when you need him?  He can have both of my kids if he wants them,  for the love of god, just type me out a manuscript I can prostitute out, or at the very least achieve person satisfaction at a job completed.  How about a Genie?  A magic god damn fish......give me something.....anything......

he looks like a bit of dick really - and nobody has ever mentioned the teeth issue before

Due to buying some shitty ticket back to Australia at the last minute, we had a couple of stops on the way home.  They seemed like such a good idea in theory - 6 hours in Beijing??? No worries we'll get a car to take us on a tour of the Forbidden City.  12 hours in Vienna on New Years Eve?? Sounds awesome - fireworks, mulled wine and those mini gnocchi muthfuckas covered in two tons of cheese - Gimme.

worth being chubby for.....

The reality was more like this;

on the drive by....

It took us two bloody hours to get out of the Beijing airport.  Those airport folks really love a queue.  Plus the place is HUGE and there are a hundred terminals all connected by trains.  We were met by our car driver that looked like he was about 13.  I honestly thought he was there to push the bag trolley until he slid behind the wheel.  Well, they do say the kids work the hardest.  And I suppose a 13 year old's reflexes are pretty sharp - all those computer games and everything.  I fell asleep bent over with my head on my knees.  I woke up with a start (and an unusually large quantity of facial creases) as my husband elbowed me after an hour and a half crawl through the traffic and said "There it is".  I pried open my red crusty eyes, wiped the dried drool off the left side of my face, peered out my window.......and saw a giant picture of Mao Zedong and some large walls.  Then our prepubescent  driver passed us his phone where he'd translated from Google "We cannot stop.  We do not have time".  So, straight back to the airport we went.  It was one of the most expensive and least fruitful drives in history.

The G man

More exciting was the commotion that broke out at the airport upon our return.  As we arrived we saw people lining the entrance peering down below.  We looked over the rails and saw hundreds of women screaming and pushing toward a small solo figure in a khaki puffer jacket who was being kept from the masses by about 15 bodyguards.  More and more women started coming.  They were running and screaming from all directions.  The bodyguards got the small figure outside and toward a waiting car.  More and more people came sprinting and shouting, it was incredible to watch.  "Who IS it?"  we wondered aloud.  "It's G-Dragon!!!" said a rather breathless red faced young women next to us "You know?  Korean Pop Star.  I love him.  I LOVE HIM".  "You're not the only one Sweets, by the look of it",  I offered.  And she surely wasn't.  A thousand young women were hysterical outside and pushing each other, while the black car tried to negotiate past the crowds of girls throwing themselves in it's way.  G-Dragon is a hot commodity around here.  I'll have to have a listen, it's important to keep up with Chinese teenage girl trends - you never know when that knowledge will come in handy.

Good news for all the girls there today is that they are officially allowed to pop out more than one kid.  China just last week announced the end to their one child policy that has been in place for more than 35 years.  That's a pretty major deal if you think about it.  Imagine being forbidden to have more than one kid and you really wanted more?  You'd be spewing if you went into menopause last month lets put it that way.  Unfortunately for all the G-Dragon fans, they are going to have to find someone else to knock them up, as there seems to be rumours that the young man in question is, in fact, gay.  Who would have guessed?

many young heterosexuals enjoy pink satin blazers and matching hair

As soon as we arrived in Vienna we all totally crashed out in our hotel beds of unbelievable comfort (24 hours of cramped flying really gets into your knees), and would have completely slept through the New Year celebrations if my husband hadn't woken us at 11.15pm.  We pulled on our jackets and joined the crowds surging toward the town hall in the old city.  It was freezing.  Absolutely freezing.  We had left 36 degrees behind in Melbourne and headed straight to -7.  Nipple-numbing cold to put it bluntly.  Saw the fireworks - moderately impressive, but soon after we realised that below zero temperatures while surrounded by a bunch of people who'd been on the turps since 5pm, was no place for a couple of 6 year olds who were bawling from cold by this stage.  Of course the girls then spent the entire night awake, and got very familiar with the entire series of Shrek movies for the following 6 hours.

Looks pretty....pretty fucking freezing that is

I hate those stupid glasses

Our arrival into Israel appeared uneventful (unlike the lightening strike on the plane wing during last years homecoming).  It was good to see Bar Refaeli again.  On every single wall of the airport like she always is.  Staring down from the Carolina Lemke ads.  Sometimes it's the Hoodies advertisements, in which she poses in a rainbow variety of hooded sweatshirts, that line the airport walls.  This time, it was the ugly Carolina Lemke glasses.  Surely Bar must have shares in both companies?  Throughout the entire city of Tel Aviv, it is the same.  Bloody Bar Refaeli staring down from the side of every building, every billboard.  It's like some weird future world where only one model exists and is allowed to appear in advertising.  We have a stunning babysitter who looks exactly like her (letting her babysit is sort of like a present for my husband.  He gets to look at her at the beginning and at the end of the night).  I asked the girls if they thought the giant image of Bar looked like our babysitter, Shir.  "No" replied one of them "She looks like Mummy".  So there you have it everyone - I am a dead ringer for Bar Refaeli.  Unfortunately she is not so popular at the moment due to some kind of tax evasion, plus trying to block the air space above where she got married a couple of months ago, and also for dodging her service in the army.  Hopefully I won't accidentally get hounded by an angry Anti-Bar Refaeli mob while I'm out in my Uggies and filthy trackies buying jars of caramel.

don't even get me started on the puppet

the resemblance is uncanny....to the puppet

So senseless

Coincidentally (in a horrible way)  just as we touched down at Ben Gurion airport, another bloody nut job opened fire on a Friday afternoon bar session a few blocks from our place.  That is a seriously fucked up New Years resolution right there.  Two people died and another eight were injured.  One of them has a bullet lodged in his head that is impossible to remove.  You couldn't get a shittier start to the year for those poor bastards or their families.  Such a tragic and random event.  Life really can be cruel.  

Astonishingly the gunman managed to get away.  He took a taxi, but after the taxi driver recognised that he was the criminal, the gunman shot him and dumped his body on a beach just north of where I go walking on occasion.  Then he ditched the taxi and basically disappeared off the face of the earth.  The police have been searching for him for a week now with nothing.  There were rumours that he was still in North Tel Aviv (where I live) but now the police seem to have branched out and are searching other areas.  People have been very very edgy.  This isn't the old city of Jerusalem where fights and violence break out all the time.  This is Tel Aviv on a chilled out Friday afternoon.  Imagine this happening right where you live.  It's hard to believe it could isn't it?  For me too.

The search continues

People keep asking me if I'm scared.  There are rumours flying around - namely that he has a hostage somewhere, and that he is still armed and intends to commit another shooting.  It's the talk of the neighbourhood actually.  Everyone from the parents at the school, to the fishmonger round the corner wants to talk about it, and in particular ask me how I'm feeling.  To be honest, I feel nothing regarding my own safety.  Not even when my sister said "he could be hiding out in your building".... way to inspire confidence Sis - I actually haven't seen Joanna from number 4 in a while, and there has been a fair bit of thumping going on from underneath us, so perhaps I should pop down......  It was like this though when missiles were being shot into the city in summer 2014.  I didn't feel frightened.  Barely uneasy.  This is not because I'm particularly brave or anything - on the contrary, I'm a total coward, and have a real fear of things like clowns, and maggots - maggot infested clowns - eeeuuugghhhh.  I've thought long and hard about why everyone is so freaked out and I am not, and I think it must be my Australian psyche.  We (as Australians) are so used to feeling safe, and believing that things like this always happen to other people, elsewhere, so that it just doesn't make much of a dent.  Not so for the Israelis.  And the Palestinians.   They have been constantly pounded for decades.  There is a long history of disasters, and mayhem, and violence - so it's impossible to think that each person has not been affected in a significant way, or knows somebody who has experienced direct effects.  That is bound to leave a lasting mark.

Everyone's good time girl

Let's hope our relative innocence as Australians lasts.  The world really feels like it's changing, like its winding up faster and faster.  Is it just me who feels it, or does everybody....or nobody???  Perhaps it's always been like this, and I only feel it in this way as I get older.  In contrast to my 'views' expressed above, I actually do believe in a better future and a happier world despite what is so often laid out for us to gape at in horror.  I'm still waiting for that good news only channel, but I'm not holding my breath.  But in the meantime, if you really want to feel good about 2016, do not check out this years predictions made by a (now deceased) blind Bulgarian witch called Baba Vanga.......and stop saving up for that European tour next Spring........Don't say I didn't warn you.....

And have a fabulous year everyone.  I mean it, I really do.  Love and light, and all the rest of that other hippy shit xx

and cosmic kisses

* Update - At about 4.30 this afternoon the gunman was killed in a shootout with police in the north of Israel near his hometown - Arara . So I guess he wasn't hiding out at number 4 then......