My Southern Excursion PaRT 1

To simply put it, I am not a complicated person. I do not possess a deep inner dialogue that is filled with questions of identity and truth, nor do I go about my days struggling to find the meaning of life. This said, my last post was an aberration and this blog will continue in the style that has been used previously. I am a man of the people and what the people want the people get.

So where to start? This past weekend five friends and I went to Eilat, which is the southern most city in Israel, and comparable to Florida, where all the older Jews go in the Winter to get away from the cold in the rest of the state. We left Thursday, which was also the last day of intensive Hebrew study, in the afternoon. There are two ways to get to Eilat, either a thirty-minute flight or a 6-hour bus ride, we chose the latter option due to economic reasons. I booked the bus and got there about ten minutes before it left the station, the other people on the trip got there literally seconds before the bus left, and so the vacation started. The second half of the ride was scenic for we were driving through valleys with mountains on all sides.
Once we got to Eilat we ate at a really good restaurant where they serve you about ten different types of Israeli salads and sides with fresh lafa (like a pita, but bigger and without a pocket) and grilled meats. You could order tong, testicle, heart, and other parts of cows and lamb. Though none of us were adventurous enough to try bulls balls I was reminded of the scene in HBO’s Rome where the mother tells her son to eat the testicles of a bull for it helps with the growth of a certain body part that rhymes with… penis. And the night just started there. After buying a 24 pack of knock off red bull (eddie I am sorry you know I hate red bull and it was way cheaper) and a pair of liquor bottles we returned to our room where we downed both to the genius songs of Daft Punk and Girl Talk. Last Thursday also happened to be Valentine’s Day, and like in America this romantic holiday is celebrated by Israelis, though not with the traditional chocolates and roses, rather at pubs and dance clubs. The first pub we went to had heaps of red and white balloons and was a filled with 20 somethings just sitting around and talking, a little too un-hip for 20 year olds who were trying to get a little rambunctious. However, at this point in the night is when Adam, a L.A. Persian who rarely drinks, started feeling the effects of Peter the Great on his fine motor functions and walking abilities. He is stumbling all over and we the rest of us decide to take him back to the hotel so we don’t have to worry about him for the rest of the night. We had to carry him into the hotel and up to the room, and when doing so got a funny look from the security guard. The rest of the night was pretty normal after that. I met up with one of the soldiers from my birthright trip at a bar and we went to a really small place filled with locals. Like everything in Israel and Europe the bars stay open until the late morning when he sun is starting to come up, and when in Rome do as the Romans.
We slept for a few hours and woke up in time for the free breakfast (please see the previous post about free food). Barely physically able but mentally strong, we went to the beach where we stayed until it started to cool down, around 4:30, and strait chilled (Stock has nothing on this chill ses).