The Pipes are calling

Bonding with friends is truly deep and meaningful when it involves unplugging a drain, especially so when it is a bathroom drain interconnecting with two kitchen drains.
Last night, my new American friend and I had to forgo dessert and try to unplug a drain which was gushing all over the bathroom floor. The house is historic and the drain was positively Maccabean in its rebellion. We tried almost everything, short of a surface to air missile, and failed miserably. But we got to laugh a lot and figured that we would be dirty for a few days until we could find a plumber to fix it.
Thankfully, just before Sabbath started, a plumber came to our rescue, and we can now shower with abandon.
I am trying to think of a way to blame President Bush for this latest adventure, but my imagination fails me.

Is Nothing Sacred?

In November 2004, a new supermarket opened on King George V street in Jerusalem. It was located in the basement of a high rise building. In theory, you could reach it by going down a long escalator, but it, like many other things in Jerusalem, didn't work. So you were faced with huffing and puffing your shopping bags up two flights of stairs.
Over three years later, the escalator still doesn't work, and you can seriously throw away your gym membership - it is a real work out schlepping up those stairs.
However, I noted today an interesting delivery to King George V Street - the very day that George W Bush was due to drive down it, en route to the King David Hotel. A double, shrunk wrapped escalator, dumped rather unceremoniously on the pavement.
I guess George had some grocery shopping to do before he left town.

Oh, and speaking of the President leaving town; I could spit bullets! Tonight the President delayed my dinner. His cavalcade kept a stop light at red for a full 10 minutes, just as the "Meat Burger" delivery man drew up to them. My dinner was stone cold by the time it arrived.

All the President's men

As from tomorrow, central Jerusalem (1.5 miles in every direction), becomes a pedestrian precinct. No vehicles of any kind will move. If you need to get out of the city, you will have to walk. Why? George W is in town. He and his entourage are taking over the 800 beds at the King David Hotel.
Every street he will drive through has been scrubbed to within an inch of its life. This is only the second time since Independence (:-). I would venture to say that the city hasn't been this clean since the Second Temple period. Traders and residents are wondering why the Jerusalem municipality can't scrub like this more regularly, as their rates are high enough to pay for spit and polish on a daily basis. So there is at least one good reason why the President is in town.
Small challenge for my itinerary though, as I am hoping to assist taking the children who have had successful heart surgery back to Jordan. They have to come to Jerusalem first, then we drive them to Amman. Hmm, the weekend could be interesting.

Time and motion study

Today I made an important discovery for keeping stress to a minimum. It is called an Israeli Breakfast.
This magnificent beast is a combination of eggs (boiled, fried or scrambled), chopped raw vegetables, cheeses, a variety of bread with jam and butter, mixed salad, fresh fruit juice and coffee. It is truly the best way to start the day.
Now fast forward to one of the chores of the day - a visit to the post office. I remember this from a previous visit as being an extremely long winded affair, so was semi prepared for a wait. It hasn't changed, only in the fact that you are now given a number for the queue and a seat to sit on. Today I bought 10 stamps after sitting for 50 minutes.
I worked out that it had taken me that long to plough through the breakfast. So next time round, I will take my ticket for queue position, then head off for breakfast. By the time I've drunk the last sip of coffee, I should be about ready to head to the counter for my philatelic transaction. Not bad huh?

A day to rest

Today I made a friend in Jerusalem. Her name is Shoshi.
I walked into her very beautiful shop on a street famous for artists in Jerusalem. As I didn't want to knock anything over with my rucksack like bag, I asked if I could put it next to her counter. When I moved closer, she saw the brooch I was wearing - a silver cat. She immediately started to tell me the story of her beautiful white cat Bibi, who had died and whom she missed terribly. She said the brooch was just like him. I decided to give her the brooch. At first she wouldn't take it, but as I said it would give me pleasure for her to have it, she accepted, and put it on immediately. I was flattered. She told me that she was originally from Milan, and I have to say, she was dressed as only someone from Milan could dress - with style.
We had a long conversation about cats we had known and loved. She has asked me to come back to talk to her again, and I will, taking with me a photo of my two beautiful moggies, which I hope will get her to talk about Bibi again. I think she still grieves him.
The gorgeous weather on my first day here was obviously an abberation. Yesterday we had refreshing rain, this afternoon a deluge. Much needed as the whole country is very dry.

Early bird in the City of Gold

Yesterday morning I managed to be up and about even before the cats in Jerusalem. I took a walk to the Jaffa Gate and watched huge sacks of flour being offloaded from a lorry at the entrance. It was very dark and no one else was around. Even the busy road that runs around the old city was silent. Later, I found myself ducking into doorways as small tractor units chugged past me, in some places practically touching both walls. I suspect they were taking the flour to the bakers in the middle of the old city.
Next, the police started to arrive for duty, lighting cigarettes sleepily as they jumped off a van which decanted them at HQ.
When the "hole in the wall" grocer cum baker cum Turkish coffee maker opened his shutters for business, I was his first customer. Oh actually no, his first CUSTOMER was a large black cat, which he carefully chopped up a boiled egg for, and ceremoniously presented to him on a clean white sheet of paper.
By this time, the cats of the old city were chasing each other up staircases, hanging out at the door of Tourist Information (another provider of food?) and guarding the tomb of the Ottoman architect.
The weather is unseasonably warm. I was walking around yesterday in short sleeves without a coat. So, once again, 98% of my suitcase is unsuitable to wear. Sigh.

The Longest Day

1st January 2008 has to go down as the longest New Year's Day in my life. I was happily watching the firework display at Marine Bay Singapore on the TV in the departure lounge, when we had a public announcement. The First Officer of our flight had become dramatically ill when he turned up to duty. Our flight was postponed until the following day. At 2.30am I was safely in a hotel bed. The airline were amazing (hats off to Qantas). The next day we arrived in Europe to be met by further delays because it was too late to board any flights. Another overnight stop.

But hey, I've had two half nights sleep and two showers I didn't expect, so I ain't complaining.