Trippin' in Turkey - Part 1

Total Flag Lovers

To be honest, I've been fairly hesitant about posting this next chunk of text about how wonderful Turkey is and how everyone should go there.  It seems kind of a fickle remark after what they just suffered.  As many people probably know, the country had it's worst terrorist attack in it's history last week - the day after we flew out of there.  More than a hundred people were blown up at a peace rally in the Turkish capital of Ankara.  The government are blaming ISIS or the Kurds, but seeing as the rally was organised by the Kurds and they're the ones who got blown to pieces, well they are unsurprisingly not pointing the finger at themselves, and instead calling out the government - who actually does have a history of blowing up the Kurds on occasion.

*Apparently the Turkish government are now solely blaming ISIS.

What a pointless tragedy.

I  searched "Turkey Attacks" and this came up - so I thought I'd post it regardless.  Apparently they're very vicious.

And then I arrive home and things are going from bad to worse - Palestinians are shooting Israeli civilians - including a couple of young parents point blank in front of their 4 young children.  They would have shot the kids too but one of the two shooters shot his mate in the leg by accident so they made a run for it.  Soldiers are shooting the Palestinians attackers, while an extremist Jew stabbed 4 Palestinians.  Palestinians are stabbing citizens several times everyday - with knives, and one with a screwdriver outside a shopping centre I often go to in Tel Aviv.  Hamas are praising the stabbers and inciting more violence, there are riots on the border - the army are injuring hundreds with rubber bullets and tear gas - and some live ammunition there as well has killed people. Gaza has been sending a rocket or two, the Israeli's then fire back killing a woman and her child when a house collapsed.   Yesterday a 13 year old Palestinian boy stabbed a 13 year old Jewish boy - what the fuck is going on at his place for him to think stabbbing is a good move????? Just this very morning there has already been 4 attacks - a shooting and 3 stabbings that have seen two Israelis dead and about 20 injured.  It's not even lunch time yet (*this was written yesterday).  Apparently it was a "Day of Rage" for Palestinians.  The only good thing was that the Arab construction workers next door were on strike and they didn't spend 6 hours drilling into the wall next to us as they usually do.  I'm not worried about them knifing me while I'm out on my balcony - they'd need circus training if they wanted to get one in the heart.

I can't believe that in my last post I was writing all about how nice it was to see all the religious people mixing with the Palestinians and soldiers with the Muslim call to prayer resounding in the background at the Damascus Gate a couple of weeks ago in Jerusalem.  That was just before things really cut sick.  No wonder all the religious people were hurrying so much with their heads down - dudes were terrified. I'm so blissfully ignorant sometimes.  And god damn it, it's nice.

A little bit of a freak out outside the Damascus Gates

With all this kind of craziness everywhere, people say "What is the world coming to?".  But haven't people always said that? And can you feel safe anywhere really?  The fragility of life is ever present in everyday life wherever you may be, and I guess you just have to live without thinking too much about it, but being ever grateful for what you do have. Either that or drink copious amounts of alcohol and wear a tutu in public.  I am however, considering wearing a bullet proof vest when I do my shopping, plus a combat helmet and an Australian flag as a cape.  Or maybe the Tasmanian flag - they might confuse it with New Zealand's flag, and we all know the whole world loves a Kiwi.  The New Zealanders aren't randomly bombing Syria because America told them too.  The other stabber deterrent under consideration is a stick-on Taliban beard and just regular women's clothes below - both confusing and strangely alluring to a religious knife wielding fanatic.

I can buy this on Amazon - they ship to Israel too

23 year old Emily fresh from Turkey (glitter eyeshadow phase is over)

But back to Turkey where a joyous week of ignorant bliss was just spent, driving all around and looking out the window and going "Ooooooh". The last time I went to Turkey I had the absolute time of my life.  I was 23 years old and fresh of the bat from a European summer that included a mud riddled trip to Glastonbury and an overseas trip thrown into disarray, thanks partly to a 40 year old sleazy shaman with a long grey pony tail and a penchant for booty shorts (put it away Josef).  Those were the days when I strutted around in lilac Thai fisherman's pants and belly tops, and thought that wearing glitter on my eyelids was in someway spiritual.  My boyfriend didn't - I think 'pretentious' was how he described it.  I was hurt but quit pasting it on anyway.  That shit's murder when it ends up on your eyeballs - all scratchy.  We passed a pleasant 5 weeks being hippies and living for quite some time in a tree house on the Mediterranean Coast.  It was great until I got a nasty combination of projectile vomiting and projectile diarrhoea at the same time....but that's another charming story......

So it was with great excitement that I returned after all these years.  The first stop was of course Istanbul.  We had the worst landing known to man on the worst airline known to man - Pegasus.  Although they could be touch and go with Ethiopian Air - on this particular airline the seats were broken and we sat on a boiling hot tarmac in Bangkok for two hours with toilets on the blink - the air was pungent with poo poo.  But this time round, our pilot hit the ground so hard it was like he was trying to pay us back for being Israelis.  The air hostesses were also frightening.  Really really mean.  One of them bashed on the toilet door 3 times while I was in there.  And I don't mean knocked - that brute of woman nearly beat the door down.  He diarrhoea must have been worse than mine.  I came out preparing for a shout off but noticed she was about 50 kilos heavier than me and had a thick moustache so I backed off.  I just don't want to mess with any woman with a full moustache.  I'm terrified of female facial hair - it's a phobia.

3 hours of traffic and starvation later

Call me a total judgemental bastard, but I just found the Turks in Istanbul a little surly - like they had failed empire hangovers or something.  I mean I've got to give them something - the Ottoman Empire was pretty successful, and if it was still going maybe the whole of the Middle East wouldn't be trying to chop each other's head's off.  But get over it dudes, it collapsed a hundred years ago. I have one very special tip for you however - do not drive in this city!!!  As we found ourselves taking 3 hours to travel 4 kilometres, including getting stuck in a nasty jam in the long claustrophobic tunnel that goes under the bay, I started researching which cities in the world were worst for traffic.  It was a countdown sort of list - Chinese cities featuring heavily as did Los Angeles and Mexico City.  But there at number one position was good old Istanbul - the worst city in the world for traffic congestion.  You have been warned everyone.  I counted myself lucky though - I did also find another website which outlined the worst traffic jams in history - apparently there was one in China somewhere that went for 12 days!  Can you imagine?  You just pop down to the shop for some noodles and a pack of dried squid, and the next thing you know you're living in your car for almost 2 weeks and pissing into a empty iced jasmin tea bottle.  Unfortunate.

Quaintness in the Mist

It took a while to clear the city.  Pretty memorable is when you cross the big bridge over the river that separates Europe from Asia and one side of it says 'Welcome to Asia' and the other "Welcome to Europe".  That's fascinating stuff.  Speaking of continent divides (as you do), I've also been to Iceland where you can jump over the gap between the two tectonic plates that separate Europe and North America - also very cool.  After a few hours on the road we were in the mountainous regions south of Istanbul.  It would have been pretty, but the mist was so low you couldn't see much except a few sheep on the road right before you ploughed into them.  I guess it happens a lot, as some dudes on the side of the road had a couple of roadkill sheep going on skewers.  Then again they could have been the family dogs.  A skewered animal is difficult to identify on occasion.  We got out to take pictures and strangely my husband bought some 'sheep' and strangely we ate some of it in the car on the side of the road (the mist made it tricky to see any restaurants).  I got a bit edgy at the thickness of the skin, and my husband bailed out once he spotted the hairs.  It was a repulsive and degrading experience.

Roadkill Snacks

He wouldn't be too happy if we took out his sheep

Cob of corn anyone?

How 'bout a bite of a negro?

Who could say no to 50 giant sausages?

"Come and play with us forever and ever"

We decided not to stay in a deserted hotel in one of the deserted towns on top of the mountain.  We actually had a tour of it from  the doorman, but it was far too much like the hotel from "The Shining" to consider closing your eyes at night - and don't forget I've actually got a pair of girls that resemble those freaky twins standing in that river of blood from the movie - and one of mine sleep walks on occasion.  I couldn't risk them walking around in the dark saying creepy things in unison like "Come and play, we won't hurt you".   I spent the rest of the trip having actual nightmares about being in the hotel, being chased and seeing "REDRUM" written on the door.  I kept waking up in a cold sweat each morning.

The horror

Spot of Santa at The Shining Hotel anyone?

We ended up staying in the foothills of the mountains on the edge of a city called Bursa, in a thermal springs hotel that had a bathing house which resembled a gay disco.  It was marvellous and empty.  In addition to the steam room and the sauna, there were about 4 different types of showers - one massage, one ice bucket, one steaming hot and one with strobe lights and 'relaxing sounds' that were anything but.  The strobe light one was a bit much and made me feel like I was in the middle of a jail break.  I spent most of my time in the scalding hot swimming pool with 3 waterfalls and 'stars' on the roof.  The next morning's breakfast buffet was ridiculously extravagant.  There were so many dishes it would have taken the kitchen hand about 8 hours to wash all the empty bowls once breakfast wound up.  There were 25 different types of cheese for a start, and they even kept their choccy croissants in a warming tray and kept constantly topping up my coffee (that is all I need in this world).

Turkish Street life

Ataturk - everyone's favourite leader

Next stop, Cumalikizik.  I just love saying this - try it with your friends sometime.  But far from a place of perversion and pants down, Cumalikizik is filled with cobblestones and old houses and not too many tourists.  I don't think it's a "Must See" so that always helps with the thousands of  tourist bus loads, and the dead feeling in your soul.  We made some friends from Saudi Arabia, and luckily had coached the girls to say we were from Australia not Israel.  To be honest, I don't think we Aussie's are high on the international love list in Turkey, after showing up and blowing parts of it up in WWI.  But we're definitely higher up on the list than Israeli's.

Just strolling around Cumalikizik

The mysterious "Kestane Sekeri" - what the hell are they?

Junk Stuff anyone?

Our new Saudi chums

Next stop the Aegean Coast....after quite a few driving hours, lots of "Kestane Sekeri" signs, and a shitload of whinging.  Kids adore a roadtrip.  Just love it.  When else do they get to watch one Disney movie after another until Mummy's shitty laptop dies in the arse 2 hours from the destination. The sweet sound of complaint.  You get hardened to it, you really do.  Actually I think that is the main strategy to successful parenting - become immune to complaining, God knows it never stops, no matter how many sticker books and treaties you throw at them.  In fact I think I could successfully handle the stress of working in an Jetstar Complaints Department after rearing twins.  Bring it.....all the way to the sea.

Through The Rabbit Hole

A Tale of Two Cities

Just a typical day at Tel Aviv Beach

Tel Aviv is about as similar to Jerusalem as lemonade is to vodka shots - they go nicely together, but they accomplish completely different things.  Tel Aviv is wild and crazy.  All kinds of people make up the city demography.  There are people from every country of the world (well, maybe not Saudi Arabia ....or Iran now I come to think about it).  There are elderly people (and their Filipino carers) families, piles of kids, really hot girls and boys who walk the streets fresh off the beach and half nude.  They walk alongside those who are covered head to toe.  There are synagogue attendees, young soldiers, and party goers - who spill out of bars and nightclubs every night all week long.  When you see really religious people in Tel Aviv, they are usually a bit nutjob - like the rollerblading religious guy who zooms all around Tel Aviv on his blades with his grey beard and heavy black coat in the height of summer, while waving a giant flag.   He seems super stoked actually - flags are fun I guess. 

Then there are the Na Nachs - a religious sect of extremely happy types who drive all over town in van with speakers mounted on the roof blasting Trance music.  Their favourite thing to do is to pull up their van in the middle of a busy road - then 10 God lovers pile out, and the music is pumped up to a million decibels.  They then go absolutely mental - acting like they've just been to a 3 day trance festival and accidentally took their largest MDMA hit before the drive home.  Dudes are having fun, you've got to give them that.  Especially the guys dancing on the roof of the van.  What's even funnier is that Tel Avivians don't even flinch.  They act like it's perfectly normal to have some sweaty guy dancing in their face with wild unbridled joy emanating from his entire being.  They just carry on their conversations and keep on walking without a glance.  My husband and I have a theory that most of them are still going from a particularly strong hit of acid they took back in Goa in the 90s.  The music fits with this line of reasoning, the demographic fits - they must have just had some intense religious epiphany right as they were dialling off their brains on the dance floor, and things just haven't been the same since.  I love the Na Nachs (except when they pull up outside my house in the middle of the night and cut sick for about 30 minutes - then they can get fucked.  There's no way I'm giving 'Trance A Chance' at that hour).

But what if God is like the rest of us, and can't stand trance - did you guys ever consider that?

We Love Black Oh Yeah!  And Ringlets - yes we do!

Most of the religious people in Jerusalem are less about the Trance Dance, more about the one tracked way of thinking - gunning straight for the Lord.  They are the ultra orthodox or the Haredim.  I've always imagined them to be sort of odd, but after speaking to people who know a considerable amount of them through their work, or whatever, they are actually not completely off their rockers and actually have some admirable values (besides being able to recite the entire Bible word for word).  Basically family is everything to them.  Which is kind of nice.  Except if you hate your family - then you're totally rooted cause you ain't got nuthin' else.  Religious parents always arrange their kid's marriages.  The parents on each side meet for discussions, and then based on what they think is suitable for their kids the first meeting commences.  Although arranged marriages sound completely 1500s or like poor people in India or something, they have a huge success rate.  Lets face it - who but your parents knows you inside out and upside down.  And who apart from your parents has your best interests at heart?  See, it makes more sense than any of us care to admit.

Putting hair to shame the world over

Once married, they sure pump out a lot of kids though.  The religious start early and pop those babies out one after the other - the average number of kids per woman is 6.3.  They are total and utter baby machines.  Not all religious people are alike of course - there are different sects and different degrees of religion.  Head covering is a must for the married ladies - but you don't need to wear a lame old scarf.  Heaps of them are in wigs.  And I'm not talking some shitty polyester number you pick up from Shiploads or whatever.  These wigs are absolutely glorious.  They are so natural and so shiny and completely lustrous.  They look far hotter than they would if they had their normal hair out there for everyone to see - which is what I've always wondered about, as I thought it was a modesty thing.   And they aren't cheap either - one of the really good ones could set you back a couple of thousand bucks - they must be made of unicorns pubes or something.  I'm sure I can get away with a couple of hundred bucks though, because mark my words, I certainly intend to buy one before my time is up in this country.  I'm thinking either a president's wife-style nutbrown bob, or full granny grey hair in a mullet style.  That could be fetching indeed.

I need to find this shop, and I need it now (before the Happy Wig Dude clears them all out).

If I've told you once I've told you a million times - don't touch the hat

But as far as the religious go, it's the men I'm confused about.  Some have just the little kippah's (skull caps) going on, where some are in the full black outfits with the wide brim hats - the sons in shaved heads but with 2  ringlets at the front - then there are the furry hat wearing brigade.  These are some absolute monster hats, and must be murder to get round in during the height of summer.  In fact all of them must suffer in their get-up.  What the fuck are they thinking? One of the well known rabbi's should take mercy and declare that stubbies and a wife-basher are God's choice of summer garb.  Its cruel - especially to those around them.  I hate to be so mean (actually no I don't, and besides it's the truth), but they smell horrible.  It's not their fault it's really not, but honestly, I'm sure God is not against Old Spice or Rexona Sport or whatever the Israeli equivalent is.  Spray it on muthafuckers spray it on.  There are also the stripy outfit wearing dudes AKA "The Zebras" - but I think they save these costumes up for special occasions.   It's a diverse bunch, and let's face it, they have pretty much nothing in common with anyone I know living an hour away by the Mediterranean Sea.   The religious live in their own world - a world they are born and die in - like their parent's parents and their parent's parents.

I had no idea about the Fez Hat gang - they seem pretty happy (of course it's the Fez)

Lots of rapture over a few bits of bread dudes - put it in perspective would you

Jesus Lovers  - go here to blow your loads

Jerusalem is a stunningly beautiful city.  It is one of the oldest cities in the world, and  thought to be established around 4000 BC.  Every single building, old or new is made from a white or sand-coloured rock called Jerusalem Stone.  I think it is actually the law that nothing there can be build unless it is from that particular material which is quarried from the nearby hills.  Jerusalem is much larger than Tel Aviv, and historically fascinating.  The old city of Jerusalem is ringed by a huge great thick wall, and is a labyrinth of winding cobble stoned streets.  The stones have been walked on for so long by so many feet that they are smooth and shiny - and slippery if you're not careful.  Within this city are the Jewish Quarters, the Muslim Quarters, the Christian Arabs, The Catholics and the Christians, the Armenians and The Greek Orthodox.  If you're that way inclined you can walk the path that Jesus did while carrying the cross on his back, and go to the Church of the Holy Sepulctre which is said to have been built on the site he was crucified.  Within the church itself you can go deep deep underground to the ruins of a pagan temple that sat on the site  before the church was built.  

Then of course there is The Wall.  It's called the Western Wall - seeing as calling it the Wailing Wall is considered offensive.  To get there you have to pass through some serious security to get there.  No gloved hands having a feel though, just metal detectors.  The wall itself is divided into the men and women's section.  The men's section is basically 80% of the  wall, with the women getting access to the rest.  Typical.  Though I must say there are always about 10 times as many men there are there are women.  Everyone is having a pray and sticking written notes of what they really want to ask God for in the cracks.  Apparently all notes get cleaned out and piffed regularly, so lets hope God is a good speed reader.

The Wall Last Friday

It's always strange to go to that tiny bit of land - The Wall - which is the only remaining part of a Jewish Temple that one stood there (which is actually the second temple because the first one also got smashed down).  The 2nd temple was demolished in 70 AD by the Romans (the fucker-uppers of all other people's really treasured shit), while the Dome of The Rock (The Mosque right behind it) was built on top of the original site in 637 AD.  When you go there, its hard not to think about how all the trouble in the region, all the deaths and murders and hatred and anger is over that one tiny bit of land - and it really is, because whenever negotiations begin there can never be any agreement over what is to be done with that tiny tiny square.  It's sad really.  They should bulldoze the entire thing and build a new IKEA - who doesn't love a bit of IKEA?  Then again, I guess everyone would then fight over the multi-coloured towels or something.

Vali in the square a few years back

From right to left - pissed off; bored; oblivious

Wandering though the old city on the night before the Sabbath was fascinating - the entire place is closed - every shop, every business - all people are gone.  It is surreal.  The only action is in and out of the Damascus Gate - on the East Jerusalem side - AKA Palestinian headquarters.  It was kind of beautiful to see all the Palestinians, religious Jews and the Israeli soldiers all mingling together with the soundtrack of the Muslim call to prayers in the background.  It was a moment I'm telling you.  A moment that left out how much they all really hate each other.  There was definitely more hustle and bustle on the Arab side.  It was also much dirtier and more chaotic.  No Molotov cocktails though - that I was particularly thrilled about.

Deserted Old City

Heading to the Jaffa Gate - Jewish Side - pretty spiffy

Arab section Jerusalem Old City

Lunch the next day - The Banquet Room

We were staying the night (without the kids) in a fancy pants hotel on the 'other' side of town.  That's the thing with my husband.  God knows how many points the rest of us have tied up in various cards and loyalty programs without never knowing it.  It's like superannuation.  I swear I'm with about 6 different funds and have no idea what they are called, how much cash I have, or any idea how to get the cash.  Not my husband.  His finger is on the pulse.  Not only does he know exactly what is going on, but he knows who is buying what kind of points and what they can transferred into, and who is offering the best deal.  Therefore, thanks to his super-sleuthing, we end up with a shitload of freebies every year, and get to masquerade as the privileged.  This one was a beauty - staying in a suite at the Jerusalem Waldorf Astoria for about 50 bucks.  Our fellow hotel guests were billionaire religious Jews from America.  I have never in my life seen such a display of wealth and Godliness in one place.   The outfits!!! Straight off the runway of Chanel and Prada and straight onto these women.  Worn modestly of course - skirts passed the knees and arms covered to the wrists.  There were Louboutins for Africa, and the wigs made me cry with jealousy.  I just wanted to fluff those lustrous manes so so much.  Seeing as it was the holiday of Succot (I'll tell you about it later - basically it involves a tent in the backyard, some branches and a weirdly shaped lemon), all the religos were on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and they were not holding back with their displays of wealth.  My husband joked that if anyone really wanted to destroy Israel, they could just fire a rocket straight into our hotel at lunchtime on Saturday.  They would wipe out 100 billion dollars of Jewish cash.  Having lunch in the grand ballroom was like being at the wedding of people you barely know or like.  You are there for the food and booze only and certainly don't bother to talk with anyone else.  There was only one table who was as out of place as the six of us (the girls had come up for the special Saturday lunch with my husband's sister and brother-in-law the morning after), and that was a gang of furry hat people.  We were both on the 'reject' wedding tables.  You know what I mean - like when you get seated with all the other randoms, singletons and weirdos right in the far corner of the room, and the bride pretends it's a 'fun' table.

It's strangely tempting ( meaning not having to work or drive, rather than jumping into an giant electrical socket)

I've already ordered one

I was the only non Jew in the entire hotel, and I know this for a fact as I became the handyman to my fellow hotel stayers.  Known as the Shabbos Goy, the non Jew's role on the Sabbath is to do all the shit for the Jews that they cannot do because of the strict Jewish laws that prevent work of any nature.  My main task was to open the cupboards and turn on the lights in people's hotel rooms.  Ok - so I only did it once, but it was very enjoyable being so appreciated, and I was thinking of making a career out of it before I also understood that the observant religos cannot touch money from Friday night to Saturday night - every week.  Basically, don't ask a religious dude out for dinner on a Friday night 'cause he won't even do the fake wallet shuffle that goes on when you know you're getting stuck with the bill.  Not only that, but orthodox Jews can't drive, use phones, write, turn on anything electrical or even rip pieces of toilet paper.  I'm totally serious - there is a special shabat toilet paper holder, containing pre-ripped squares in the toilets throughout the hotel.  There are special Shabat elevators that have been blessed by a Rabbi, and stop at every floor so that you don't need to press buttons.  You can't even carry anything in your hand unless it is in a enclosed space.  To get around this rule, the city of Jerusalem erected some kind of rope that goes around the entire city, thereby making it enclosed and thereby making it possible for the ladies of the city to carry their Chanel purses.  They really are a bunch of strange fish - and don't even get me started on the non-women touching and the wife shagging through a hole in the sheet (possibly a rumour but I heard it's really true).

Pre-ripped Shabat toilet paper

Listen, each to their own, but even though I don't believe in him one bit, I thank God everyday for having parents that were not bible bashing freaks and therefore didn't beat the scriptures of whoever into me on a daily basis. The only religion that makes even a tiny bit of sense to me is Buddhism, and even still - all that praying and solitude sounds sort of boring really.  I mean, nice view from some of those monasteries and stuff, and that thing with the coloured sand is cool (although sort of a waste of time by the end).  But most of all, the mustard yellow robes just don't match with the magenta sash. Buddha obviously didn't study his colour swatches before selecting the outfits.

This is as close as I go to a religious experience

It takes all types to make the world go round I guess, but if the entire country of Israel was as religious as a massive chunk of Jerusalem's population are,  then it wouldn't go round at all. Everyone would just sit at home reading the Bible all day.   I'm just glad I live in The Bubble (AKA Tel Aviv).  It really is remarkable that you can drive for an hour and end up in a completely different world - I'm just not sure which one is the rabbit hole just yet.  So while I'm deciding, all hail Tel Aviv - it doesn't matter who you are, where you come from or what you're doing there, anything goes........even the techno loving Na Nachs at 2am......eventually

Even public head jobs are ok in TA (provided both parties are hot)

The Holidays Are Finally Over....Oh No They're Not....

I'm sure she thought every school day would be balloons and sweeties

I've been out of action of late - mainly because I currently think that Facebook is for fuckheads with no life (Plus I've pretty much taken my own life boasting/complaining to Instagram now),..... I think we all go through that stage of despising others - don't we (please say yes)?.  But come on now Emily......let's not start this off with any meanness.  No, on second thoughts, it's best I get it out of my system (and show photographic evidence of my dislikes, strangely sourced from my own Facebook page).

 Exhibit A: Look at what a healthy little wanker I am #livehealthylivelonggetfucked

Exhibit B:#whydontyoubeabitmoreclicheemily

Here we go, full throttle Facebook attack ......I do not care about all the amaaaazzziiing things that happen to you, I do not care about your pearls of wisdom about how I should live my life; I do not care about the mundane details of your tiresome lives - you finished a paper?  Whoopdidoo; you worked out at the gym?  Wow, you are INCREDIBLE; I do not give a fuck how many green juices you have shoved up your vagina or how much alcohol you are guzzling you craycray party animals; nor do I give a rats arse how adorable your kids are - to me they look like ugly little aliens - when they are covered in food or various crap it's far worse too - invest in a pack of Huggies wipes and clean that shit up.  I also don't care how much you love refugees or the environment - in fact those declarations shit me intensely.  It makes me want to suffocate an orphan with a plastic bag (one of those ones you can't even get in Australian shops anymore and have to carry your goods around in a big pile in your arms whenever you have a spontaneous purchase).   The only things I can tolerate these days on Facebook are links that amuse or genuinely enlighten me - like Susan Sarandon drinking a tiny bit of Timothy Leary's ashes at Burning Man a couple of weeks back - both amusing and enlightening don't you think?

Look I can snowboard too (I swear this turns into a double black diamond run)

I realise that most of the rot that finds itself onto our social media pages and status updates relates to the (un)conscious crafting of a certain projected image for the sole purpose of gaining social acceptance amongst those we crave it from the most.  But I'm not really judging - After all, what is this bunch of crap I started writing all those years back, if not a deep excursion into my vanity.  It does feel a little bit comforting now that I have realised that a very very tiny percentage of people actually care what I think or do - mainly my family, and say about 3 friends - These are the people who basically cop my crap at all hours of the day or night, saving all my Facebook fuckers from being subjected to it.  That's why 'whatsap' was invented.

Look guys I ran 10km, God I'm good  #thisisactuallythebeforeshot

But is it so bad? - after all we're just getting the hang of this social media thing - I'm sure our kids will handle it better.  We're all guilty of oversharing in some form or another - even the really 'cool' people who quit Facebook 'ages ago', and remind us all the time how great they are that they don't need to project their own greatness (not referring to anybody or my husband or anyone).  But in the meantime while contemplating all these astonishing insights, please read my blog about all the details of my meaningless life and share it with people that don't know me from a bar of soap so that I might also gain the approval of strangers.......and everybody will love me......so much, so so much......

Fuck.  That felt great, apart from the realisation that I am obviously mental, not to mention a total bitch - but otherwise, yes, great.  Also, I wrote the above yesterday when I was in a really bad mood and today I'm wondering whether I should just delete it all.  But like I said - nobody really cares one way or another, so I think I will proceed with the above.  Ok, I'm ready to move on now......

Back where they belong

Ok, so yes - ahem, where was I?......Um.....The thing about school holidays is that they suck.  You always have grand dreams of making them special - that's where I think we (as parents) go wrong right from the start.  Any memories of childhood camping trips pretty much relate to vomiting in sleeping bags, dropping entire dinners in the coals of the campfire, and getting pelted by the worst weather that could have possibly been unanticipated. Just don't bother.  You're the only one who really cares if your kids watch The Little Mermaid on repeat for 8 hours straight.  So, your friend's children made a cool robot from unused kitchen appliances and toilet paper rolls??  Good for them - at least you don't have any mess to clean up.   I spent the final week waiting, just waiting for school to start up again, and then once it did, I was a bawling mess, crying all night about how much they're growing up, and how they don't need me, and why, oh why, didn't I just let them paint their entire body with blue paint - Smurfs are gorgeously perky right?

See - kissy kissy

My daughters started a new school this year (September is when school starts over here Southern Hemisphere people).  They are also in separate classes for the first time, they study now solely in a foreign language, AND they catch the school bus to and from school.  It's a lot to process.  For me.  The girls seem just fine about it.  This particular school is just a little religious as well.  The headmistress is an observant dwarf from some settlement who stands at the school gate wearing a shrunken turban and kisses the kids hello.  There are also morning prayers to the Lord everyday and a weekly visit from the school Rabbi.  There wasn't even a question on the enrolment form that asked if V & C were Jewish - I'm pretty sure it was just assumed.  Well, the jig is sure going to be up when they start spouting off about Santa in a couple of months and come back to Israel singing 'Silent Night'.  Hopefully it will be too late to kick them out by then.

Hobart (and jetlag) in springtime at sunrise

But no sooner does the school year start over here than the Jewish "High Holidays" begin, and it's fucking school vacation time all over again.  I had a quick solo trip back to Hobart in the interim period, so it just feels like the holidays have been going since the end of June.  Though I am shitloads of kms away from Tassie, it's a relief to know that I can decide to go, book a ticket that leaves the next day, and then spend about 28 hours in a variety of uncomfortable positions in order to be back in my homeland of birth within 3 days of making the decision to eff off.  I can't tell you enough how great it felt to finally step out of that metal box and suck in a lungful of Tasmanian air.  Meanwhile the entire population of Israel was suffering through the worst dust storm in 50 years.  Three days of yellow air and 80% humidity fresh from Syria - lots of sand, pollution, and particles from various explosions I guess.  A friend of mine described it as lying face first on the beach and trying to breathe. Lovely.

They were breathing sand, I was breathing Mum's daphne

Getting back into Israel on my lonesome five days later  turned out to be a bit trickier than I anticipated.  Apparently I profile as a person of interest when I'm not travelling with my Israeli citizen of a husband, and my two blonde six year olds.  Particularly fascinating to the Israel security team stationed in Bangkok was my decision to fly all the way to Australia from Israel for 5 days only, and then there was also those couple of trips I took to Jordan during the last six months.  I was questioned for 2 hours about these things before even checking in, and then later directed to a special basement under my boarding gate where all of my belongings were x-rayed and my body was subjected to an extraordinary amount of scrutiny.  What can I say - Petra was worth a rectal.

Petra - Totally Worth A Hand Up the Bottom (I think it's their official slogan)

After a 6 hour delay between the hours of midnight and 6am I was seated next to an overweight Chinese Christian from Brunei named June. Her first loudly asked question to me as soon as she sat down was "Are you Jewish?".  Upon finding out that I was in fact not, she spent every minute she could trying to bring me back to Jesus.  I was actually very fuzzy on Valium and enjoying engaging her in religious discussions.  Particularly interesting was when she started yelling "Jews are NOT God's chosen people" - I pointed out that she was on an EL AL flight that was headed straight to Tel Aviv and that 99% of the people surrounding her were Jewish, but old June-bug would not be deterred.  It wasn't until she assured me that I would be off to hell with my darling Granny that I assured her (without a trace of anger, just a blurry Valium fuzz) that if she could promise me she definitely wasn't going I would welcome that particular destination.  We didn't chat much after that, although she did give me a fruit chew when I woke up.  However I think that was related to my breath as I tend to sleep with my mouth open.

But back home I came  - my children jumped the barrier screaming Mumma Mumma!" and I was all touched until one of them told me that Daddy had made them practise being happy to see me (yep, thanks guys I missed you too).......So as soon as I returned the beginning of those 'High Holidays' started - first came Rosh HaShana - the Jewish New Year, which I pretty much missed all of, due to 4 nights on a plane in just over a week, and a nasty case of double jetlag.  But just a couple of days ago was one of my favourite days of the year - Yom Yippur.

Ride that highway yok cuties

P.Diddy's guests behind Cordi

Yom Kippur marks the sealing of the book of life (and all your bad deeds) for the previous year, thus sealing your fate for the upcoming year.  Thus it is everybody's last chance to get in God's good graces and so the whole country shuts down for about 30 hours and gets to work.  There is not a car on the road, not one shop is open, not a single show is broadcast on television, and many people dress like they're off to P. Diddy's Christmas party - spending all day praying in the synagogue and fasting from sunset to sunset.  Not just abstaining from food either - not a drop of water is consumed.  I did it one year and the headache really left a lasting impression.  Once upon a time I had honestly thought you would die after 24 hours without water, but apparently you are good to go on suffering for about 4 days to a week, when you literally turn blue and start convulsing. Nice.

Its aces for kids and heathens though.  Gangs of bike riding under twelves take to the empty roads where they ride wild and unsupervised while their parents recline on the couch at home thinking about an icy glass of agua.  The city streets are almost more dangerous than when cars are on them - the kids, skateboarders and roller-bladers have no boundaries - I fear them intently. They are wild animals.  But I'm so glad I have the liberty of enjoying Yom Kippur.  For me it is a swell occasion - the busy country and my crazy city grinds to a complete halt of peace and tranquillity for 30 hours.  It is bizarre and special.  You can walk the streets for hours in quiet reflection, or ride around like a fruitloop on various wheeled items,  take your pick.  I know I'm supposed to be in awe of the solemn nature of the day itself, but I honestly can't help but relish in the fun.

Right before a skateboarder ran over one foot and my daughter weed on the other

Cars or no cars, a lazy child on a bike still needs to be pushed

By the time the next day shows its face, most people are suffering hard from dehydration.  I didn't really consider the implications of this when I decided to drink wine at lunch and send out a serious of eating and drinking photos to all the people I knew who were fasting.  While I think some people may have appreciated my disturbed sense of humour much much later, some never saw the light.  "Weird and mean" is how I was described by at least one person. That's ok - I'm leaving the country in a few months, I can take the heat.  Between offending my friends and faking my kids being Jewish at school I'm on borrowed time people, borrowed time.

Even my friend who was right there with me thinks I've got issues

I was more concerned I looked slightly pornographic

Not altogether right in the head - and what's with my eye socket?

I certainly can't take the heat from the sun though - this fucking fucking boiling hot country.  Its mid autumn for fucks sake - drop it below 32 already.  People experiencing near freezing conditions may be cursing my name, but I was in the cool not so long ago and it was a welcome reprieve I promise you.  Be grateful, I want to be you.  I am still trapped inside day after day hiding from the sun - I've got the age spots of a 60 year old, and no amount of laser therapy is going to zap those babies into submission..... please winter, please come. And while you're at it bring the rains too.  The city is unrecognisable from the amount of sand that got dumped on it during the dust storm.  And now, after the measly day and half back at school following Yom Kippur, another set of holidays has commenced.  The kids are now off school for 10 days.....again.  Remind me to hide the blue paint.

It went completely through the washing machine and turned all washing blue for about 6 loads before the penny dropped