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Eilat, November 2009
The New York Times posted an article today (to be run in tomorrow's print edition) titled "At Israeli Resort Town, Ignoring the Strife to Soak Up the Sea," by Isabel Kershner. I took a bus from Jerusalem to Eilat back in 2009:
Eilat struck me as a cross between Las Vegas and Ft. Lauderdale. As I wrote to the BYM that night:
The bus station was thick with hustlers -- I weaved through the crowd and caught a taxi a few blocks away, and the final meter reading still looked fishy to me (but not enough to protest). My hotel room wasn't the cleanest, and maintaining a steady connection to my laptop took some fussing:
The highlights: I caught a Cirque-du-Soleil-ish show at the Isrotel called Wow - Love. (To the BYM: "Missed you during some of the sexier pas de deux... I think my American prudishness is showing; it was rated as suitable for age 4 and older, but there were enough sexual situations that it would rate at least a PG-13" in the US.)
I dipped my feet into the Gulf a couple of hours after sundown, and the rest of me lolled in the water the next day. I rode a camel named Shlomit, and the hot camel rancher/guide served us tea and pita bread (the latter made right in front of us):
At the Giraffe Noodle Bar, I ordered a Coke and a bowl of soup:
The sidewalk accoutrements included stops in the shape of sports balls...
... and trash cans in the shape of hands holding beverages:
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| From Israel 2009 - set 4 |
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| From Israel 2009 - set 4 |
Eilat struck me as a cross between Las Vegas and Ft. Lauderdale. As I wrote to the BYM that night:
If I weren't still fascinated by the whole "what's different here in Israel" thing, I'd be wanting the hell out of here. (It helps that I've run into very few other tourists speaking English. I have the feeling I'd be wanting to slap more of them if I understood more Hebrew or Russian, though the gaggle of high-maintenance French ladies on the bus was just funny.)
The bus station was thick with hustlers -- I weaved through the crowd and caught a taxi a few blocks away, and the final meter reading still looked fishy to me (but not enough to protest). My hotel room wasn't the cleanest, and maintaining a steady connection to my laptop took some fussing:
 |
| From Israel 2009 - set 4 |
The highlights: I caught a Cirque-du-Soleil-ish show at the Isrotel called Wow - Love. (To the BYM: "Missed you during some of the sexier pas de deux... I think my American prudishness is showing; it was rated as suitable for age 4 and older, but there were enough sexual situations that it would rate at least a PG-13" in the US.)
I dipped my feet into the Gulf a couple of hours after sundown, and the rest of me lolled in the water the next day. I rode a camel named Shlomit, and the hot camel rancher/guide served us tea and pita bread (the latter made right in front of us):
 |
| From Israel - set 5 |
 |
| From Israel - set 5 |
At the Giraffe Noodle Bar, I ordered a Coke and a bowl of soup:
 |
| From Israel 2009 - set 4 |
 |
| From Israel 2009 - set 4 |
The sidewalk accoutrements included stops in the shape of sports balls...
 |
| From Israel 2009 - set 4 |
... and trash cans in the shape of hands holding beverages:
 |
| From Israel 2009 - set 4 |