That's the long and short of it. It's my first hostel experience. Some of my friends had warned me about hostels in Tel Aviv – but it seems like we came out OK. Not great, but OK. I think Anny may be ready to cry, but she's a trooper. She brought a different outfit for each day. She's used to being picked up at the airport and driven to a nice hotel. Here we are in a 5-person room that is relatively warm for my taste, a restroom you can barely move in and that smells none too pretty, and a shower area of four stalls, hooks for clothes about 5 feet from the nearest stall. And we have to lug our heavy luggage (I never realized what an appropriate term luggage is!) up the stairs to our room. No elevator here! Still, the bedding is clean, even though the room looks like a run-down college dorm. Anny is remaining very positive. This is quite an adventure.
But I love adventures. For dinner we went walking through a sprinkling rain (I couldn't have been more surprised at rain in Israel this time of year!) down Ben-Yehudah Street (me spouting off all kinds of historical tidbits as we go – not sure if they appreciate that or not, but they're respectful listeners anyhow) to find a place for good falafel. In the words of my friend Emily Fine, we went the way of the unicorn, and the unicorn delivered! We found a great little corner shop and enjoyed some delicious falafel (I had a shawarma – yum!).
Now home to bed. I braved the shower, am sitting atop my 2nd level bunk, and write this to you as cars honk indiscriminately outside (window's open to ameliorate the heat). I have to periodically re-wake myself to finish this entry. Off to Eilat tomorrow. (Enough with the honking, already!) For now, I'm going to sleep. I'm exhausted. In a really happy, I'm living my dream, kinda way.
Here we are on the beach. Comparing white legs, singing,"Some o'these shoes are not like the others...", and getting blown away in the perfection of the breeze.



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