Arctic Living

They make freezing hell look so good

Rocky beach combing

This whole country is fucking bullshit gorgeous.  Top to bottom.  It's phenomenal.  Our first stop in Norway was right up the very top in a place called the Lyngen Alps.  We were 70 degrees latitude north.  That is very far into the Arctic Circle - I think the mainland of Antarctica is 70 degrees south.  Northern Norway is wild and completely stunningly beautiful.  So beautiful that you just can’t believe your eyes.  Incredible jagged mountains with glaciers spilling out of carved rock bowls right on the wild and rocky coast of the Norwegian Sea.  We travelled specifically to stay in a random little sea house with a grass roof.  How can you not love a house with a grass roof?  They seem to be a thing here too, everyone is digging the shit out of having a lawn planted on top of their houses.  

Chilly

Sometimes I like to just randomly select a location without knowing jack about it – just Air BnB search an entire country (within the narrow perimeters of your available budget) and go to the best one you can find.   This one really was the best.  As we arrived, the sun was low in the sky at 10pm at night and was slowly sinking into the sea right in front of the house.  It sat alone sticking out on the coast, perched on the edge of a pointed rock beach.  The inside smelt like wood, and all the chairs were covered in fluffy white sheepskins, plus there were a couple of reindeer hides tossed casually over seats (they actually shed a lot of hair, I'm still picking it off my clothes).  There was a wooden pine-smelling sauna downstairs, and  a fireplace in the lounge room with piles of chopped wood.  The kids basically spent 3 days feeding the fire and blowing it non stop with bellows - having a fire in the house was a totally new experience for these winter deprived youngsters, and I've since discovered that they are definitely pyromaniacs.  But by far the highlight was the view from the lounge room.  After looking at the rooves of other apartments for the last 3 years it was kicking goals for Africa. 

Arctic Summer Living

The pyros with their new favourite toy - the bellows

My 3am face says it all

90 days of weird unsettling twilight

The sunset was meant to be about 11pm (according to the weather app), but it never really moved on from dusk. It was literally Dusk to Dawn in about 10 minutes.  The bedrooms had bloody skylights so they never got dark either.  At first we were really excited about constant light, but after days of body clock confusion we felt really seedy.  It was like when you’ve been at a dance party all night long and try to go to sleep the following morning, but your head is all over the place.  The midnight sun messes with you.  Even when we had dark curtains in th next Air BnB, somehow the light gets inside your brain.  

Imagine the opposite though - The Polar Night.  Some of the locals told us that it’s constantly dark for 3 months - December, January, February.  Imagine that – not seeing the sun at all for 90 days.  Apparently when the faintest glow of sunlight appears on the horizon again some time in February everyone breaks into wild celebration (as you would)  They have festivals in the streets with everyone going bananas.  There is one Norwegian town, Rjukan (in the south), that because of it's location in a deep valley, it doesn't see the sun from mid September until late March (WTF??).  However, in true Norwegian 'shit-together style' they constructed a giant mirror on top of a hill to reflect sun into the valley.  Everyone was super stoked, as you would be I guess.  Fascinating shit.  Don't forget though, that the Norwegians have the northern lights to get them through the winter.  Lots of them sit around in outside hot tubs and watch the sky show.  Sometimes the lights come every single night in the Arctic Circle.

Who needs the sun?

Look at their mirror inspired happiness!!

The next Air BnB - not bad

After leaving Lyngen and our little grass roofed dwelling, we drove 2 hours south, and stayed for 3 nights on a fjord just outside the most northern city in the world – Tromso.  Incidentally it is as cool as - Norwegian style, they can't bloody help it.  It has a full underground road system – roundabouts, lanes, carparks, all located below the city.  They also have full GPS satellite and Internet reception deep underground (told you - total shit together).  They must need it in winter - it gets well below zero (-10 degrees Celsius), and inland it can get as low as 30 degrees below.  It seems like theres a lot of snow as well, but no ski mountains - which means no resorts and no floodlights for day skiing during the pitch-black mid winter months.  Apparently when it gets a bit lighter, everyone just hikes up the mountains wherever they feel like it and skis down.  No cable cars, no lifts, no rope tows, no trails.  Just free style.  Theres no way I could ever do that.  I once hiked up a mountain in Japan when the lifts weren't working and dripped a river of sweat everywhere and had to faceplant the snow for an hour when I finally made it to the top.  I nearly called Search and Rescue just to massage my hammies.  The Norwegians do it for fun.

Sunset in front of our place

Stay back Fatty

There are also some pretty hefty Troll rumours up that way, and that's no wonder - they're just sitting up there in the dark for months freaking each other out.  Trolls or jötunn (*giants) feature widely in Scandinavian mythology  as do the Huldrefolk - hidden folk.  In some stories they are described as monsters with a particular fondness for human flesh (excellent!), while some stories describe them as not being particularly hideous but instead they are old and strong but kind of thickies (I'm going with these bad boys over the flesh eaters).  I don't think your average person on the streets believes in mythical creatures like the Icelanders do, but there are certain concessions to the widely held belief that Trolls live in a mountain behind Tromso.  Apparently the trolls turn to stone when the sunlight hits them, so they must really dig the winter up there.  Also lightening is said to kill them and people believe that the absence of trolls in this day and age is a reflection of the accuracy of lightening strikes.  Ok then.....  

Is that over 5% alcohol content my excited Viking reveller? 

Excessive drinking cannot explain these tendencies for fairy tales as Norwegians live in an alcohol prison.  You can’t drink publicly (except in bars obviously) – even drinking on your own balcony is a no no.  Buying alcohol from the shop is extremely complicated - basically you can only buy wine and spirits at special government owned shops before a certain time (6pm during the week, and 3pm on Saturdays, no buying in Sundays).  Beer has it's own set of rules again.  You have to plan your boozing in advance. Imagine needing a timetable and a list of instructions every time you felt like having a drink?  It would be so annoying.  And it’s expensive, really expensive.  My husband made the fatal error of drinking about 10 beers on a night out in Oslo a couple of years ago.  He neglected to realise before he got the bill that they were $25 a glass.

The marble penis equivalent of the natural world

It was time to head further south - goodbye to the eternal day, hello to more retina burning scenes of natural beauty.  The next stop was the Loftoten islands - an incredible archipelago connected by bridges and tunnels and stretching for hundreds of kilometres.  While still in the Arctic Circle these islands have a freakishly warm climate, and are without a doubt one of the most stunning places on the planet.  Your eyes get overwhelmed with the beauty of the place so that it becomes a bit much - sort of like when you’re at The Louvre in Paris or the Prado in Madrid.  You see so many incredible treasures that you become irritated by the over exposure to beauty.  You walk into another hall of treasures, and you’re like “Another fucking 10 foot ancient Greek statue of Neptune??  Seriously? - Carve something else - a giant frog,  a chicken nugget, anything....there's only so many carved marble penises you can handle in one afternoon.  Well, The Lofoten Islands are the natural version of that over exposure, as is Norway in general really.  It just keeps getting more beautiful.  My eyes can't take it - they need to be reset by seeing something trashy, like Kimmy K in a leopard skin latex bikini, or else something repulsive like a used bloody condom on the floor of a filthy public toilet.  Fjords get fucked! No more waterfalls, no more!  But of course there was more.....there's always more.

I'd rather see Kardashian snatch

A Minimalistic Scandinavian Summer

The snow in the north stays even during summer

Wow - that last post was popular  - there were about 7 times as many views as usual.  What can I say, the masses love a list.  I think I might have to do a list-post every time.  I could change the name of this one to; "15 Ways A Polar Bear Can Kill You' - as I've been doing a little death-by-bear research seeing as I've been in the Arctic Circle for quite some time. The least popular way for me to go would be to have all the blood sucked out of my body while my heart still beats - apparently they like to do that.... but more of those good tidings later.....

Although the prospect of having one suitcase for 6 months, 4 seasons and multiple countries made me slightly sweaty upon first consideration, I have now completely succumbed to the glorious feeling of travelling lightly.  No stuff.  No hideous possessions.  It feels amazing.  I may wear the same clothes everyday and look like shit, but I feel so good on the inside, especially if I avoid mirrors.  I think my fear of hoarding possessions (sorry Mum, but yes, it's from your tendency to accumulate) has turned me the other way - towards the joy of throwing things away.  My sister is the same, we talk often on the phone about what we're going to piff.  She had a policy of throwing away 3 things every day and would sometimes resort to a kitchen utensil when she ran out of actual junk, where as I used to let it all build up and then turf about 6 garbage bags of crap a month - a lot of kids artwork made up the contents - what can I say, they are prolific producers..... I have no doubt that when all my junk arrives in Australia from Israel, I'm going to toss 80% of that as well.   Hopefully the boat goes down and our shipping container ends up in Madagascar (they all wash up there, I've seen the movie) and then it will save me the trouble.

Here we are in Sweden - even the airport is stylish, clean, and devoid of humans

Robots?

No one does minimalism better than the Scandinavians - I wish I was them....all of them.  Damn them and their effortless style.  Nobody should look that good in a white button up shirt and a pair of wrap around navy blue culottes.  They could go completely nude, except for a bandana and set new trends in understated fashion. Stockholm was glorious.  The air was so fresh and sharp with that morning crispness I haven't had in years.  It never got above 22.  I was in heaven.  God I love a chill in the air, and goosebumps on the bare legs.  Plus, my white stumps fitted in so nicely with a country full of albinos.  The city of Stockholm itself, is a series of little islands all joined by bridges.  The waterfront is bloody stunning - pretty old buildings galore.  Picture perfect (so not Tel Aviv - bless it's grotty, rotting, stinking, blood stained little cotton socks).  The streets were sparking clean, and everyone was so quiet in all the restaurants - they were packed with people, but all of them unnervingly silent.  They seemed to be talking, but there was barely a audible hum floating by on the breeze.  The streets seemed empty.  Nobody jostled for position at any cafes or shops.   When we drove in the city and indicated to change lanes, instead of speeding up and blocking you from changing lanes (an Israeli special), the cars behind would actually slow down to let you in in front of them. My husband was visibly shocked.  Everyone was blonde with pink cheeks and all healthy looking, like they'd been running in the meadows all arvo (and perhaps indeed they had).

Hello Stockers

Like a story book

Who doesn't love a little Salt Skum?

It was quick hello to Stockholm this time.  A quick inhalation of cinnamon buns and giant lattes, 2 kg of liquorice and a stroll around the old city.  We planned to pay proper tribute at the end of the month and really suss it out.  We were on our way to Norway.  It was heaps cheaper to hire a car in Sweden and drive it over the boarder into Norway than to hire one in Norway, so that's what we were doing.  Bring on a road trip, it's by far the best way to explore new lands. Some like to go by bike, others by train, bus or on foot.  But I am a lazy fuck and think the world looks sweeter when you barely have to move.  We didn't really linger long in Sweden's countryside either - or explore the south or the archipelago (which is meant to be gorgeous), but you can't do everything.  We were heading north, and we had some serious miles to cover.  Sweden is definitely the big brother of Scandinavia, while Norway is it's beautiful, but possibly resentful little sister (kind of like Australia and New Zealand).  In the north of Sweden the air smelt like pine (Norsca fresh!), which is not surprising seeing that it was covered in pine forests and not much else.  Pretty much every structure we saw was weatherboard, with a pointed roof, barn-like design and painted a browny-red colour.  It was like the entire country only sold that particular shade of paint, or like it was illegal to paint your farm, house, hotel, shed, any colour except rusty red.  Nobody could move on from it, it was slightly freaky to be honest. I imagined one guy breaking out and ordering some purple paint online from India and going sick nuts on the side of his house.....and then getting a 'special' visit in the middle of the night from the Swedish Secret Forces.

Regulation colour and style

 Sweden's High Coast ;  Approximately 10.30pm, after a 3 hour long sunset

Exciting milestone of the journey north

After an overnight stop on Sweden's High Coast, we were headed straight for Jokkmokk - the capital of Lapland and home to the Sami people - the indigenous people of Northern Scandinavia.  Jokkmokk is just north of the Arctic Circle.  That was bloody exciting crossing that marker.  And might I add, I was thrilled to be there in summer rather than the dead of winter, which would be a completely different experience to say the least (40 degrees colder for a start). We blew our loads over a river for an hour or so.  As I got moved to tears by a water rushing down a mountain, I realised then just how starved of nature I had been after living in an urban environment for so long, luckily I adjusted fairly quickly after that.  We continued to the 'Hotel Jokkmokk', a rusty red (what are the odds?) barn-like styled hotel by a lake, where we were served reindeer steak (surprisingly tasty), but slightly disturbing considering we had been so happy to see our first reindeer just cruising up the main road on our approach into Jokkmokk.  Something I didn't know about Reindeer - their antlers are furry - they sort of look like they're covered in velvet.  Fun reindeer fact; apparently the velvet eventually rubs off, but then they shed their antlers and grow a new set and the newbies are all velvety again.  Another reindeer fact - there are no wild ones in Sweden, all are domesticated; but in Sweden Reindeers are only allowed to be owned by the Sami people.

The Rushing River of Soul's Joy

Shit got exciting here as I chased the pack into the bushes and then panicked and bolted back the other way

First reindeer spotted - see the velvet antlers

Would it be pretentious for me to dress like this from now on? I'm digging the pompom

I'm loving this black and white Sami shot

Bear lake

As I was running around the lake through the forest the next morning, I started thinking how not only had there been a stuffed reindeer in the Hotel Jokkmokk dining room, but also a large brown bear and a couple of wolves (all watching me while I ate my dinner).  Then I remembered reading how numbers of bears and wolves have been increasing across the forested areas of Sweden and I began to feel a little peaky, I certainly got some spring in my step on the last part of the jog lets put it that way. After researching brown bear numbers in the area I was currently residing in (there are plenty),  I found out that the best way to thwart an attack is by lifting up your arms and going something like "Rrrrrrrrrrrrr" as it charges you.  I just don't know - it seems well, fucking idiotic to me.  I would always do the apparent worst thing possible and run for it, which is incidentally what actually I did do when I saw a giant muthfucka in the forests of Japan (and I didn't die then so I could be onto something - my stellar bear advice = run and don't look back).

I just honestly don't think this bad boy is going to be frightened of me

Run Cord, ruuuunnnn

Scare it Vali scare it!!!

One question; is that a human rib cage?

That wouldn't work with a polar bear though.  Those suckers mean business. Luckily the whole Scandinavian population of them live on an island right out the middle of the sea called Svalbard.   Unless they develop Viking boat making skills those big bastards ain't going nowhere.   I nearly had a fit when my husband suggested we go there for a jolly good time (an outdoors-only Husky dog camping adventure for 2 weeks is what he actually wanted to do - um, see you Sweetie).  The advice given to all tourists visiting the island is 'carry a gun'.  Awesome.

This is sadly what happens when the big fellas go rogue

I must admit, the idea of going into the wilds excites me too, plus I have a taste for gore so I subsequently researched "Polar Bear Attacks On Svalbard". Although someone got mauled in their tent last year (who the fuck is camping there? - I would be living in a steel box); the most horrible fatal  attack was in 2011, when a group of Eton school lads went on a Svalbard camping adventure into the wilds.  The dudes leading the camp had fuck-all polar bear experience, and so when one starving one stormed the campsite in the middle of the night and started chowing down on British boarding school teenagers like they were jammy buns, or more appropriately potted meat sandwiches, the dickheads in charge not only couldn't work the guns properly, but didn't set up the alarm trip wire correctly either.  That left time for Old Polie to have himself quite the feast on a lad called Horatio (the bear probably found out his name was Horatio and thought he'd take out the most pretentious group member first).  Horatio's tent-mate also got his face bitten into - apparently he could hear the bones of his face and skull crunching but surprisingly made it out alive - but disfigured and traumatised - I guess being eaten alive face first would be a tad upsetting......The camp leader was also part of the feast but eventually he got the gun working mid-munch and fired old bloodthirsty White-and-Fluffy into oblivion. I get a horrified thrill reading shit like that, and part of me wishes the body count was higher as I'm secretly rooting for the bear.  But then I research further and see pictures of poor old Horatio innocently smiling earlier in the trip, and feel really guilty.  I think being eaten alive by something is by far my worst fear, I just don't understand why I derive a sick pleasure from it happening to others (is this something I should perhaps keep to myself?).

Dude seems remarkably calm really....

First sight of the fjords - the colour of the water!

Luckily the mainland is polar bear free, and once we crossed the Arctic Circle we really got our first taste of the very late sunset and the early sunrise.  It never got truly 100% dark, although just over the arctic circle, the sun went down around 11pm and came up again at 3am.  But as we moved further north it became more and more pronounced with the sun going down later and later and coming up earlier and earlier.  It fascinated me.  We actually had to drive through Finland for a hundred kilometres or so, before we made it at last to Norway - my hour long impression of Finland = grumpy bunch of cunts in the shops and actual parking spaces outside for snow mobiles - not exactly Lonely Planet material there, sorry Finland.  As we crossed the border in Norway, almost instantly the scenery changed.  It became much more dramatic, while the roads became much much better.  The Norwegians are a country of people who have really got it together.  Especially considering the extremely harsh terrain in which they live.  They seem to have everything they need, but not too much of it.  They are a Shit Together Country, and I think that should be their new slogan.  As we drove further and further north the scenery got more and more stunningly beautiful - destination = a grass-roofed house on the sea by the Lyngen Alps - latitude 70 degrees north of the equator - one of the furthest northern parts of the country.

So beautiful

I think it was a knee jerk reaction - we were trying to have an experience the most opposite of Tel Aviv that we possibly could have; freezing cold, no people, absolute silence, nothing to do, clean air, incredible nature.  And what can I say, we were extremely successful.  And the best part about it - not just no people, but no stuff.....oh, except piles and piles of dirty washing.

Worth driving a million miles for - check the grass roof!

15 Things I'm Going To Miss About Israel

So Long.....Farewell

This post has been a long time in the coming.  I've made two serious attempts - both totally unfit for publishing.  The first was a complete spiral into Sopsville (i.e. heavy focus on my Israeli friends and family.....and halva); the second was cold hearted (i.e. it was blank). I seriously considered publishing this second one for fun, but realised it was just a reflection of the final two weeks of 'over it-ness' you get when preparing to leave somewhere you have loved - basically you hate everyone and everything.  It's a defence mechanism.  Either that or it really does suck, and everyone you know is a dick....

Anyway, this is my third attempt to finally close the doors on almost three years of life in this crazy country.  Because it's over now.  It's all done and dusted, finito, splitsville, gone Daddy gone.

Packing up my life was painful.  As a friend of mine said, who also just packed up her own life - after 10 years overseas - "Shifting countries is like childbirth, agony at the time but since forgotten".

The actual day of leaving was smoother than expected thanks to 3 burly men, some bubble wrap and a crane; but the saying of goodbyes hurt like a frontal vagina waxing.  I cried, I deep breathed, I took  a Xanax.  I always knew it would be great in Israel, but it was an experience that far exceeded any expectations I may have had.  Parting is such sweet sorrow.  Actually, it was just sorrow......  

And now for my Incredible "Most Missed List";

1. Tel Aviv:

You may look like crap, but it's part of your charm

Obviously top of the list.  Jerusalem may be the spiritual capital of Israel, but Tel Aviv is the heart.  The beating lively pulsing heart.  It may be filthier than a human shit squashed on the bottom of a flip flop, but make no mistake - it is a fucking legend of a city.  Vibrant and happening - there is nowhere else like it.  They call it The White City, but it's more like The Off White City, or the White City With a Layer of Brown Filth On Top.  Make no mistake though if it's fun you're after, you're going to get it in Tel Aviv.  Noisy, unrelenting fun with a heart of gold.

2. The Beaches:

It's warm as well

The entire west coast of Israel lies on the Mediterranean Sea - need I say more.  The beaches are tops.  Ok yes, in summer you may literally burn blisters into the soles of your feet when you cross the sand for a dip, and the after-weekend ciggie butts floating in the shallows may be a little gross.  But toughen up Princesses, this is Israel - enjoy.  But no matter how much you do actually enjoy it, you will never love lying on the beach as much as the vast number of French geriatrics burning themselves to a caramel crisp every single day of the year.  The beach is their world people, and don't you ever forget it. 

3. The Food:

I'm going to miss you so much Lover

Lets make one thing clear; the food is so fucking good that you will become a complete porker unless you have extreme vigilance about what you shove into your piehole.  There are lots of salads available at every restaurant sure, but it doesn't count as health food when you dump half a kilo of tahini all over the top.  Surprisingly you don't see a lot of obese Israelis.  Usually anyone clocking in at 150kgs are American tourists who got slightly carried away at the baklava stand at the markets.  And despite a diet heavy in sugary treats (they give candy out at school as rewards - it's fucked), you never see a chubby Israeli kid.

4. The Markets:

This woman was not attracted to me at all

The Shuk HaCarmel is one of my favourite Israeli experiences.  I actually feel a little sad that I didn't get the chance to go down and bid farewell to all my market buddies; Shlomi the fish guy (he admitted that no matter how many times he scrubs his hands the smell of fish never comes out); Elan my fruit and veggie guy who is seriously in love with me (I am extremely popular with the over 70 market crowd for unknown reasons); the Wah Wah Wee Wah Man (who cannot stop saying 'Wah Wah Wee Wah' about 2000 times a day - I have no idea how the stallholders around him cope with it), The Nut Fella - best nuts in Israel......not that I'd know.  So the whole place would probably get shut down in Australia due to about 100 food and sanitation regulations being broken, and yes there may be large rodents crawling over everything at the outskirts, and chicken blood on the ground; but live a little everyone.  The Shuk is one of the last third wordlish things left in Tel Aviv.  I hope they never change it - rodents and all. 

5. Old Shit:

I don't know what the hell this is, but it looks old as fuck

There are enough old ruins, buildings and crumbling structures in these lands to satisfy the most nerdy of all history lovers.  You can't even dig a hole in your backyard in Jerusalem with the Archeological Society moving in, roping off your garden and subsequently digging up the ruins of a Roman village.  This land is far out old alright - and of course part of the whole Middle East -  which is the fertile crescent where human civilisation reportably kicked off.  Jerusalem itself, is apparently 5000 years old. The cobblestone paths in the old city have had so many feet walk over them that the rocks are shiny and slippery.  If you're all into all things biblical and stuff, then cities and areas mentioned in The Bible can be visited.  You can go to The Church of The Holy Sepulchre where Jesus was supposably crucified, and where Marco Polo grabbed some oil to take to Kubla Khan's palace - and not only can you see this amazing church, but you can descend underneath the church to where the ruins of a pagan temple are that the Christians just build over the top of.  This is just one measly example.  All of this kind of archeology thing makes me blow my load. And its not just from watching Indiana Jones, although Harrison Ford really was hot in his younger days.  Times have changed though and Calista Flockhart can have him in his twilight years.  

6. Smoking Joints In The Streets:

Or then again you can street smoke a bong

Suck back a fattie in the middle of the city streets at anytime of the day or night and you will barely get a glance from passerbys.  You could probably blow a lungful of smoke in a policeman's face and come out of it unscathed (just claim tourist if things get ugly and don't mention I said it was ok).  In fact you can not only smoke freely in bars and nightclubs, but you can light up and smoke away in restaurants and not get told to put it out.  I once witnessed two dudes request a bowl and a pair of scissors from the waitress.  They then proceeded to mull up and strap up a number, and smoke it right at the table - nobody even looked at them (yes they shared).   Pick your venue though, you don't want to suck one back at the breakfast buffet at The Hilton - straight arsed tourists hang out there.

7. Going to Breakfast In Your PJs:

Goals

The slovenliness in personal style, and often hygiene, is something I will simultaneously miss and hope I never see again.  Most of the country looks as sloppy as a veggie burger with extra sauce, and they dress like they have no mirrors at home, and indeed maybe they don't.  Some of the outfit ensembles I have witnessed over my time here have made me weep tears of blood.  Either people don't care, or they care two much and dress top to toe in matching floral, including a pair of shoes in the exact same floral fabric (how would you find shoes that exactly matched your hideous outfit - they must have had them made especially, it's the only explanation).  Sometimes I really enjoy wearing the same clothing I wore to bed to drop the kids off at school, and then to wear out to breakfast.  I have learnt a couple of important things here - always dress in leopard print if you are over 60, and in Israel leggings are not only pants but they do not require underpants underneath.  Sometimes you just have to surrender to it, and god damn it, it feels good.

8. There Are No Spiders:

Look at those fangs

There maybe the tiniest of tiny little insy winsies on an old gate in the suburbs or something, but generally speaking there are no spiders here, and certainly none in your house or lurking in your clothes.  There are certainly none the size of your hand that run very fast, and like to hang out under the sun visor in your car.  There are no chunky bodied black ones that crawl into the neck of your shirts when you leave your clothes on the floor.  So long did I spend in Israel, that I am no longer hyper vigilant about shaking my clothes or my shoes out before I put them on.  I no longer jump a mile when I see something black twitch in the far corners of my peripheral field of vision.  I will have to readjust.  Israel has made me soft.

9.  The Directness of Communication:

That guy in the white is telling the chick to piss off

Again this is something both missable and unmissable depending on your mood at the time.  Sometimes it's enjoyable to bark an order at someone; bang into someone without the need to apologise; or have some slightly shitty interaction with a random citizen; while other times you just want to sob "Be nice to me you prick" to the bartender.   One thing is for certain, my skin is a lot thicker than it was before I moved to Israel, which is a good thing really, as I got tears in my eyes the first time I went to New York and someone yelled at me for not saying 'coffee' clearly.  What a pathetic pussy.  Now I do the yelling, I do the yelling.  

10.  Feeling Secure:

Nothing says safety like a teacher with a gun

Now this may be a bit weird, considering I once had to run for shelter when missiles got shot over my city, and my apartment actually had a steel enforced bomb shelter serving as it's third bedroom laundry dumping space.  But seriously, I feel safe in public areas in Israel, because not only is security tight at all public events, but every single citizen has been army trained.  When shit goes down, instead of running from the terrorists people run toward them to fuck them up.  It also makes me feel safe that two armed men sit behind locked gates at my children's school all day.  These dudes would defend my kids with their lives.  I don't know if I would myself.  I'm often glad I have two minis to toss at any danger, as it's a better chance of escape for me.  It probably sounds strange that I feel so safe here - especially because a week before we left, our street was closed off by the police who put on bomb protection outfits and did 'actions unknown' over the road from us.  And yet, it really didn't worry me.  The Israelis mean business, and they take no chances, if there's one thing they know, it's security and disaster relief.  They are the world's best out of necessity.

11.  No Rules:

Prepare for safety

Again the easy going casualness of the shoulder shrug is appreciated when something works in your favour (i.e.  when you continuously crash your rental car into the side of the driveway and talk your way out of being fined when you return the car); and yet simultaneously, the lack of societal structure does you no good when it's against you (constantly getting shoved in front of at the grocery store, unless you go bananas at a particularly pushy woman or two).  My first introduction to this was at a car rental place when we arrived.  My husband pointed out that the car we booked stank of cigarettes and that there was a "No Smoking' sticker on the actual steering wheel.  The young dude looked unmoved and replied "This is Israel.  There are no rules".  We learnt fast.

12.  Krembos:

Melt in my mouth anytime darling

I don't know what these sweet puffy chemical concoctions are, but the way they melt in your mouth when you shove them in whole is extremely satisfying.  Could they be whipped nougat on a plain unremarkable biscuit dipped in chocolate?  Or possibly fairy diarrhoea on a dog biscuit dipped in unicorn poo?  Who cares, they are fucking unbelievable, and I am going to miss them so so much, hopefully they're available on Amazon.

13.  Nightlife:

There I am....!

Its the best.  The absolute best.  There are no curfews so everyone goes out after midnight and parties until the sun comes up.  There are no residential areas (everywhere is residential), no noise restrictions (everywhere is noisy).  It .  Is.  On.  And the booze is cheap.  Alcohol laws are so lax that you can set up a bar in the front of your house by buying a few six packs and pumping some tracks out of your iPhone.  Sometimes there are street parties with DJs cranking it, and beers being sold out of eskies.  Because of the weather, heaps of the partying goes on outside, and in courtyards of nightclubs  Although, some clubs are in the basements of buildings (and were once the building bomb shelter - maybe still are - who would know).  The fun never stops.  Seriously it doesn't.  Enjoy it for me, as I'm far too old and Mumsie looking.  I'm going to miss at least, the knowledge that it exists. 

14.  Hot People:

Undies and guns = yes!

Some people find Italians the hottest race on earth, some the Danish or the Spanish.  Many people find Tasmanians the most gorgeous people on this God given earth and who can blame them?  I however, can't not get over the sheer volume of hotness on the streets of Tel Aviv.  I have never seen better legs sticking out of short shorts, and that's just the men.  It's also an army thing - hot people with guns is something you never get over either.  But they work for it - I've never seen more people exercising in my life than along the boulevard at the Tel Aviv beach - running, riding, skating, playing fucking beach paddle board, doing some stupid hand-holding kind of dancing.  And everyone is all tanned and healthy looking from continuous all year sunshine.  It doesnt work that way for me - I'm spottier than a dalmatian eating a packet of 100s and 1000s after 3 years under a Middle Eastern sun.  The hotness around me would be intimidating if it wasn't so enjoyable.  Hell, you don't even have to go outside, just follow 'Hot Dudes And Hummus' on Instagram.  The only saving grace is that after 40, following too much sun, ciggies (and hummus) they all go to seed.  Then the chicks have massive amounts of procedures and boob jobs, and before you know it you're a 60 year old slut.  It's a popular look, I might go there myself one day.  Granny sluts are hot.

15.  Attitude To Life:

Woo Hoo - we're SO fucking happy (how did they get the dog to jump?)

Life is precious, family is most important and peace can be fleeting.  Enjoy your time while you can, because who knows what is round the corner.  I really think that Israelis live in the present moment more than any other nation - even though their existence as a nation is under threat, not to mention often international condemnation.  But their enjoyment of life, and the pure joy they savour from their national identity is inspirational.  Israelis know how to live, and their pleasure from the simple things in life runs through everything they do. 

And Finally.....

There are a myriad of other little things, and also larger things that I will always miss about Israel.  I haven't really expressed my love for my darling friends and family here - but I know they know how much they mean to me and always will, so I'll leave it at that for now.   I haven't mentioned the weather (for 9 months of the year), the baby hedgehogs that populate the bushes on the outskirts of the cities, the incredible nature, the produce from Kibbutzes, cheap avocados, Waze, old people, the Dead Sea,  single ciggies sold in stores, the beauty of the desert, Israeli cafes, cheap and freely accessible alcohol (I feel like I've already mentioned this), wearing shorts and t-shirts at night and never getting cold....it goes on and on.  Yes, there may have been moments when I have sat in unbearable traffic in my car and screamed "Get me out of this fucking country".  And there have been plenty of times when I've cursed the grime and the filth that invades everything, and been disgusted by the haze and disturbed by the sandstorms; but all in all I've had the experience of a lifetime, and one my children, my husband and myself will never forget.  

Thanks for having me Izzy - I miss you already.

Let's blow this popsicle stand.....