Ridiculously busy part 1: Frenching Tel Aviv

Okay, over a week since last update, almost 2... A LOT has happened. But I realised I can't make it all justice with just one post - it would either be too brief, or it would make the Harry Potter books look like the instructions you toss aside when you buy a new mobile phone. So here's part one of the planned 3-part epic.

Camille is an excellent travelling companion. On thursday we set out from Bar'am to get to Tel Aviv. Hitchhiking took forever, but I learned the most useful phrase so far: "I don't speak Hebrew" in hebrew. We got to Nahariyya, where we just took the train to Tel Aviv directly. 2 hours of talking about anything with a person makes you really get to know people. I didn't know Camille that well before. Still don't, but so far, she's awesome. Anyway, once we landed in Tel Aviv, around 8 at night, we wandered around a bit until we found our way to our contact's apartment - Na'ama, the girlfriend of Martin, a great person, let us crash on her couch and any other soft, flat surface we could find. Tried calling her, didn't work, so we're outside her apartment with no way to get in or contact her. Two minutes later, she comes out the door. After greeting her and waving her off as she goes to work (bartender), we get in. We cook, watch a weird film about the end of the world, cults, and sexual experimentation. It's insane and good. Then, for the first time in AGES, I get enough sleep. Wake up around 9-10, see two bicycles in the living room, where I've been sleeping, and Camille informs me that they woke her up when they came in, turned the lights on, and brought the bikes in. I'm a heavy sleeper, worse than I thought, even.

After an acceptable breakfast, we make our way to the Gay Pride Parade by noon. It was fabulous. Walking down the street, tens of thousands of people there, of any and every sexuality imaginable (ASEXUALS PARTY HARDEST was the best sign I saw there), all having a great time, making their way towards the beach. There, in front of a huge stage, thousands of people just dancing, talking, partying. I think we danced for at least 3 hours. Then a few more volunteers gathered, so we were about a dozen that hit the town that night. Shpagay, the first gay club I visited, was way too crowded, and had too loud music where the only available seats were. So we soon moved to another, I forget its name. Just sitting, talking, drinking, having a blast. We all wander off to Comfort 13, an excellent dance club. Well worth the 60 shekel entrance fee. Just dancing and going insane until the wee hours of the morning. Vilde, the crazy norwegian girl, dared me to kiss a guy. All I can say is: Too much beard for my taste, sadly. Other than that, he was nice. Though he almost didn't believe me when I said I was sober. My group was the most insane one he'd seen, and I was the worst of them, apparently.

Stumbling apartmentwards from splitting up with the rest of the group, me and Camille took a Cherut (taxi-bus-thing), and fell down exhausted at about 8 in the morning. Tel Aviv sure knows how to party. It was one of the best nights so far. Taking the bus home on saturday (THEY HAD BUSSES GOING ON SHABBAT, HOW COOL IS THAT) was nice, dozing on and off, until we finally got back to Bar'am. Excellent trip, all in all.

Next part, likely coming tomorrow: Camp in Qiryat Shmona.