Journal 01.02.2026.
Somewhere in Thailand. I tell ya
later…
6 days Barefoot through the Desert
- Eilat, Israel: Day One.. continued
The main drag that was from the bus station
as the center of town …hah, hah, yeah right. That place had improved since 1982
but you couldn’t buy a bus pass as it so happens. That’s another place. But
first – the main drag down to the beach. Same incline and the shops, malls and
assorted coffee shops designed either by cabbage head architects or former socialist
paradise lost designers.
The 1982 version had just been some shacks
flogging a bit of food and drink with air-con. Just as well, as in 1982 when Lady
D and I were there it was June and average temp 40 plus. Snorkelling meant sun
burn on your back and the agony of the hill to our rented luxury abode (some
penniless bum’s pad that he renting out), dodging from one shop to another so
to recover before the next 100 steps. Those were the days…
But now with my feet hurting more than a pilgrim’s
after walking barefoot across broken glass and fag end butts, the actual wide
new roads and pavements were immaculate. I wouldn’t consider eating off them,
but it was a blessing to go bare foot.
First stop. One of the many rondavels with
shady people changing money. They don’t have an ATM, but I found a bank where
the security bloke who eyed me up in my hippie trousers, shoeless and spaced
out eyeballs, concluded that as the only tourist in town, it was hardly likely
I was there to rob the joint.
Now having NEW shekels (the old ones went
the same way as the Zimbabwe dollar,) in my mitts it was SHOES and earphones.
With wires. After half a dozen of small shops flogging the same shite at
(wireless – unless you want a pair for little girls with a penchant to wear
huge pink, fluffy singing ear muffins,) it was bad news until my observant eye
clocked hanging from a peg an antique from by gone days.
It took a while for the owner, who was
gabbing away with two other loafing individuals who were simply shooting the
fat (Israelis -aka Jews, don’t chew the fat. It is shoot first and then ask
what they wanted. A delightful way of life I so enjoyed as a policeman,) and
eying me up as I asked about them, the owner of this tiny electronic toys and
phone cards shop was VERY curious with my appearance and perfect
Rhodesian/Pommie/Bavarian dialect of English and he asked where I was from, as
he brushed the dust off the plastic blister packet.
Looking at him and his cronies aged all
about mid 40s, it was simply pointless saying Rhodesia.
‘I am from Rhodesia.’ Which was pointless,
but worth a try. I was pleased to have proved my point because the idiot had
never heard of the place but as I then pointed out to him…
‘...now called Zimbabwe, but I live in
Germany and I have come here with hope that I can have a conversation with
people whose intellectual conversation is more than the chatter of monkeys.
(This all true.)
‘Aah, then welcome to the donkeys, I wish
you luck.’ He smiled wolfishly. I recognise this style of wit from personal experience
and the fact I am rather good at it.
‘How nice. It will be fun since I am
half-Jewish.’
‘We can’t be all perfect.’ was his reply
whilst…waiting for the come back if my now claim to fame is worthy of a duel.
Agg, shame hey. Poor man. He and his now eves dropping clientele were waiting
with baited breath…
I think I have seen the film at least 20
times. Whenever I am feeling well spaced, I put it on and lip sync the lot,
just like I can with the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
‘Independence Day. 1996, the father of Jeff
Goldblum, who saved the world and was rewarded by giving the last kosher
sausage Elizabeth Tayler had had the pleasure of.’
That went down well. I thought of adding
the fact that the Director is a German and who has made a small fortune using
Jews in his films.
Smiling like if I had just shot off his circumcised
dip-stick and enjoyed it, he sold me the headphones and rigged up an Israeli
telephone card. Both were a reasonable price, so thinking I might not have
arrived in the Sodom and Gonorrhoea of high prices for cheap shite, I continued
on feet of flames, plus my back ischia’s was giving me some right gip and went
looking for shoes.
They were only to be had in fancy shopping
malls flogging the identical shite I had seen in Turkey for… well. A decent and
fancy pair of ‘Name brands’, about 100-200% more than in Krautland – which means
about 600% more than in Turkey which, with certain, they come from.
Fuck that for a lark. So, I went barefoot
almost the whole time and walked over six days the entire coast part of Eilat.
About 12 clicks. On the way I came across curiosities – the biggest were the
prices for necessities such as…food, and at 20 euros for a kosher hamburger, I
started to get a pattern of why this place was a huge fuck-up.
To be continued…
