Bare with me...

Alright folks, for those of you wondering about the rest of my Israel story. I haven't stopped doing it, I'm just taking a break for the festive period we're in right now! I shall resume everything after New Year's Eve...well not exactly after New Year's Eve because I predict I will be dying in bed all day!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

ישראל (Israel)- Pt IV: Apple packing, Alaska Vodka and Christmas in Israel

Kibbutz life is THE life. It's just so easy. My average day on the kibbutz would be:

-Wake up at 6 (later if I was hungover)
-Head over to the apple factory (about a 2 minute walk)
-Work until 4pm
-Go to the shop buy booze and fags
-Get wasted
-Wake up at 6 and do it all again

Apple packing was pretty mind numbing, as you could imagine. You had to stand there all day and pack apples into boxes that came out on a conveyor belt. It didn't exactly make you burst with a sense of self-achievement. But luckily I have the brain of a squirrel, so I didn't find it hard to just switch my mind off and crack on with it. You could work with somebody else if you wanted to, so you could work and natter away like two old women. This was okay, but it could also make such a dull job even duller if you got stuck with somebody you didn't particularly want to talk to. One person sticks in my head the most; Ora.

Ora was an Ethiopian Jew who lived and worked on the kibbutz and boy did she know how to talk. The problem was though, this girl is a few sandwiches short of a picnic, she was completely doollaly! She asked the same questions EVERYTIME. And when you answered the question, she would ask you again two minutes later the EXACT same question. There was definitely a few screws loose in that head. Here's a conversation that actually happened:
Ora- "Sam, how you say 'one' in your language?"
Me (slightly confused)- "er...one(?)"
Ora- "How you say "two"?"
Me- "Two"
Ora- "Ah like English!"
Me (me completely spun out)- "What? Of course. I speak English, I am from England we speak English in England"
Ora- "No, you lie. English from America"
Me (getting pretty pissed)- "English from Amer- seriously?! Think about it; ENGland-ENGlish"

She wasn't having any of it. So I just left it at that and let the special needs child believe English comes from America. Just like Spanish comes from China and Russian comes from Uganda. I would tried my best to avoid her, but she always managed to hunt me down.

We got a decent amount of breaks. Two forty minute breaks and a 15 minute tea break in-between. For breakfast and lunch we would all go to the dining hall. As I told you in previous blogs, a kibbutz is based on communism, it's all about sharing. So everyone has the chance to eat in the communal dining room where there is as much food as you want. You get sick of it after a while, because a lot of it is the same. But looking back, it was awesome really. Because you didn't have to cook any of it and could eat and drink as much as you like. You never go hungry on a kibbutz.

Israeli's like to eat a lot of salad for breakfast. Not my ideal meal to start the day, maybe this has something to do with coming from a country where our national breakfast is fried egg, bacon, sausages, baked beans etc. I suppose it's a very good thing to start your day on rabbit food. But I usually just got two pieces of toast and put a mountain of scrambled egg on top and drowned it in Tommy K, God bless the Queen. No matter where you come from and how good a time you are having abroad. You will miss the cuisine of your motherland. I would of done some regrettable things for a sausage roll or a Sunday roast dinner.

Contrary to what most people think, I actually ate pork during my time in Bar'am. The majority of Jews on the kibbutz were far from religious and may I say, the pork was some of the best I've ever had. I believe they are farmed by Arab Christians. I imagine there's not a massive demand for pork in a region dominated by Jews and Muslims; so the farmers can take their time in raising the pig. Thus some top notch pork for everyone. I never got a pork pie or a bag of pork scratchings though much to my dismay. I did get a pig leg on Christmas day though (yes A LEG). The kibbutz members (people who live there permanently) were kind enough to cook the volunteers a WHOLE pig for Christmas. It was delicious. Here's a picture of me and the pig limb:

I celebrated Christmas, New Years Eve AND my birthday in Bar'am. I wish I could remember more about them. My birthday was about ten days after the day I first arrived at the kibbutz. Within these ten days I had well established myself as one of the local piss-heads. Thus my friends came up with the idea of 'Power Hour' on my birthday. For those that don't know, this is when you take a shot of beer every minute for one hour. Sounds simple enough. Beers not that strong after all. Wrong. Because when you do this, it works out that your drinking one can every ten minutes.

We all gathered in the party room. There was about eight or nine of us taking part. People were coming in and out to  I was doing pretty well. But after about 40 minutes I started to feel really bloated. I had so much gas in me that one burp could supply the plants of the rainforest with carbon dioxide for a decade. At the 54th minute someone pulled out. Why pull out this late?! There's literally six more shots to go. Two shots later this gas was getting too much and I really needed to unleash this bad boy. I got a lot more than I bargained for. I yacked up everywhere, proper projectile vomit just shout out in a straight line with the speed of a thousand locomotive trains. Bollocks. Everyone was in fits of laughter, tears of joy were gushing out of their eyes...except for one person. It turned out a civilian had got caught in the crossfire. I looked across the room and there was a Swedish girl who did not look impressed AT ALL. Funnily enough she didn't stick around.

I wish I could tell you what happened after that. I remember waltzing around volunteers with my shirt off saying 

"Fuck it, it's my birthday, I can do what I want"

I still stand by that statement. After this we all headed to the pub and that's all I remember. My birthday wasn't anything special though, it was equally special with every party and pub night during my first months in Bar'am. I got such bad blackouts from what happened though. I was a barman in England for over two years and my boss was quite laid back with us drinking on the job. So I was pretty experienced when it came to being wasted. But I have never been as drunk as I was at the kibbutz. Maybe it was the environment, maybe it was the mountain air or maybe it was the straight, cheap vodka I was drinking. I really don't know.

When Alex was there, he would make it his mission to get everybody drunk. Our only way of getting spirits was hitch hiking to the nearest village; which was an Arab village called Jish. There really wasn't much going on here, but it was the closest place with an ATM and cheap spirits. Our main tipple on the vodka front was some vodka called 'Alaska'. Just the thought of it now honestly makes me gag, you will find out why another day. It's 25 shekels for a litre, which is about a fiver in UK currency. We would buy a couple of bottles of these and a few cases of a lager called 'Dos Equis' which means something like 'Two X'. I can't remember the exact price of these, but they weren't too expensive. Especially as we would all chip in, but even if we didn't though, Alex would buy it anyway and sort everyone out. He actually went through all the effort to make punch in a big cool box for everybody and then drank beer himself because he doesn't even like punch. Either he's a date rapist or a very generous man, I like to think the latter!

After my birthday the next party that stands out in my mind the most is Christmas. Because people from Europe (the UK is NOT Europe in my eyes) are retarded, they celebrate Christmas on the 24th of December. After a vote and all that, Raviv (leader of the volunteers) decided we would celebrate Christmas on the 24th. They proper sorted us out. We had a massive feast and alcohol free of charge. Me and Alex were working on the bar for this day. I remember getting to about 3am and losing the ability to speak. So I just stopped working completely and got an English girl to take my place. Such a messy night, I can't remember what time I went to bed, but I had to be awake at something stupid like 7am for the trip Raviv was taking us on. 

This was another great thing about this particular kibbutz, they would arrange trips for us all, completely free of charge. On the REAL Christmas day (25th), we all went paintballing in the Golan Heights, which we was absolutely dreading still feeling half pissed/ half dead. To be fair the paintballing completely took my mind off being hungover. I can't remember which team won, I do remember scarring my Aussie mate though. Amongst all the paint and carnage that is paintballing, I saw a lone ranger charging towards us in slow motion. There really should of been the 'Where Eagles Dare' theme tune playing at this moment. There's a thin line between bravery and stupidity, which was he exactly? Well i'll let you be the judge of that when he ended up on the floor directly to my right shouting

"ARGH! FUCK OFF!!! STOP SHOOTING I'M DOWN!!! "

About three people shot him, but my shots had somehow managed to cut him and scar him. How exactly a paintball done that I don't know. But the vision of that whining convict begging for mercy really made me feel like a prison guard at Botany Bay. It was awesome.

After the adrenaline rush of paintballing wore off, I remembered just how hungover I was. It was absolutely hideous. Yet the trip had only just begun, after this we set off for a trip to some natural hot springs. As much it smelt of eggs, it was quality. Natural hot springs are just what you need for a hangover, it felt so therapeutic, so therapeutic that I had to use a word I hate SO much to describe it as therapeutic (aarrrgh! Enough of that word). The only thing that put me off was all the fat, hairy Arabs I was swimming with. I have quite a hairy chest, but at least that's where it stops. Arab men have my chest hair all over their body, if they all shaved off their body hair and put it together they could make enough duvets for orphans all over the world. 

They also bought us all a meal at a Thai restaurant which was very nice. One of my biggest regrets was that I missed out on TWO kibbutz trips because I was so wasted and didn't wake up. This is probably because at this stage I was always the last man standing every pub night. True story. But I was to lose this title to 'The Colombians' some months later. You will hear about them another time, these lads deserve a whole web page to themselves. On that note. I'm done for today. Thanks again :)

ישראל (Israel)- Pt III: Teenage soldiers and double decker trains

If your planning to travel; I have one tip for you. Don't be a complete mong and take a suitcase. Travelling around a country with a suitcase is the travelling equivalent of Superman after a bumpy horse ride (RIP Christopher Reeve). A simple task, like walking up a set of stairs, becomes such a strenuous task thanks to this fat, rectangular box your carrying around. So needless to say, my trip from Tel-Aviv to Kibbutz Bar'am wasn't the most riveting time I've ever had.

I had to get the train to Haifa and then get the bus all the way to the kibbutz. I honestly can't remember how long it took, possibly 3-4 hours(?). The trains in Israel are awesome, they have these double decker carriages. Much more advanced than anything we have on the British Isles (although that's not hard!). It was also on this journey that the whole situation of potential war in this country came to me.

Everytime you enter a shopping centre, train station, bus station etc. you must go through a metal scanner; like at the airport. Whilst it's annoying and time consuming; I wasn't complaining one bit about these security measures. Palestinian militants have attacked the Israeli's many times with suicide bombers. There is a constant threat of a terrorist attack at any time (suicide bombing on a bus is a terrorist attack in my eyes). But I can honestly say, I felt safer in Israel than some dodgy places in England at night time. Because the Israeli's have their security on lock down. Everywhere you look, you'll see an Israeli soldier ready to have a go if it all kicks off.

The Israeli soldier is no toy soldier either. All Israeli's must do national service. The girls do 2 years, and the men do 3 years. Everywhere you look you will see an Israeli soldier casually waltzing around with an M16 strapped over their shoulder. At first I found this intimidating, being from a country where it's barely legal to carry a water pistol. But after a while, I realised that if I was to be at a scene where a terrorist is attacking, I would be surrounded by some of the hardest soldiers in the world to take them down. It's pretty much a nation of Mediterranean squaddies; and I wasn't complaining one bit.

After getting the double decker train to Haifa, I had to wait two bloody hours for the bus! What was I to do for two hours? Luckily for me, there must of been a lot of soldiers on leave or something, because the bus station was full of them. I love people watching, I particularly love people watching if it involves a bunch of hot Israeli girls in army uniform rocking a big fuck off rifle on their shoulder. I was starting to wish the bus would never come. But lo and behold, here it comes.

I love travelling on bus' and trains. Screw the haters. It's even better in a foreign country, it gives you a chance to just sit back and marvel at all the weird and bizarre things passing by. This bus journey was awesome, we passed some truly amazing scenery, it only sucks that I couldn't stop and take a picture sometimes. But this bus wasn't Japanese. The only thing slightly concerning me during this journey was the spotty little runt sitting next to me. Out of all the beautiful girls on this bus, I ended up with the Jewish Ron Weasley sitting next to me. Great. Not only this, he thought it would be wise to rest his M4 rifle across his lap whilst pointing the barrel next to my leg. He didn't seemed bothered at all. He just sat there listening to his I-pod and texting away like the spotty teenager he was. But I wasn't going to say anything to him... I quite like the idea of not having a bullet in my leg.

As the sun set, the roads started to meander like the Amazon river as we proceeded up the mountainous terrain of north Israel. I was loving it. In England, the closest thing we have to a mountain is Vanessa Feltz, so when you encounter unfamiliar terrain like this, it really is a joy to look at. Whilst I was lost in this child like admiration of all around me, we suddenly arrived at my new home. Kibbutz Bar'am.

I was told that as I came off the bus someone would meet me. This wasn't the case. I wandered about outside some shop like a complete wally. Typical, nothing can never just run smoothly for me ay? Just as I thought that, an Israeli man in his late 20's walked out the shop door. I told him i've just arrived as a volunteer and have no idea what i'm doing. Straight away he gets on the phone for me. He hangs up and, with a smile, tells me my man will be here shortly. What a relief.

Not long after I had been told this; an Israeli police 4x4 pulls up in front of me. At first I'm quite taken back by this and I don't quite know what to make of it all, even more so when the window scrolls down. Down goes the window and appears a well built man who looks to be in his 40's, with a face as red as Rudolph the reindeer's nose. On top of all this, he's rocking sunglasses which are clearly to try and give off the Terminator look. But in all fairness, he carries off the Terminator act pretty damn well. He stops the vehicle and scans me up and down (probably scanning for the best way to kill me). He slowly says to me "somebody will be with you shortly..." and off he went. As quick as he came, he was gone. And to be honest with you, he had completely left me none the wiser to what was going on. "Who the hell was this Israeli Terminator wannabe?" This man is Raviv.

I was getting pretty impatient by now, I had a long journey and I really needed to just get to my new home and settle down.
"Are you the new guy?"
I turn around to be confronted by what I can only describe as a juggernaut of a man. His name is Alex from Sweden. I have this theory on Swedish men; you have two types. Their either built like a matchstick and are just complete and utter fairies, or you get the massive Viking type who loves to get wasted and smash a skull or eight. Alex was the latter.

He gave me a a brief low down as he walked me to the 'Volunteers'. This is what the dorms are called where the volunteers live (funnily enough). So apparently the first job everyone starts on is apple packing. There is a small apple packing factory on the kibbutz, he warned me how monotonous the work is and my best bet is just working hard and the hopefully get a job working on the apple orchards or in the kibbutz dining hall. Before all this though, he asks me a question he feels very passionate about. This question could either make us great friends or the worst of enemies. His question is:
"Do you drink?", to which I reply
"I'm English". This answer is good enough for him and not long into my first night, he's soon putting me to the test of whether I was being truthful or not. But more on that later.

When we arrived at volunteers I was greeted by a few people chilling on the seating area. Not because their nice people, just because they happened to be smoking outdoors when I arrived. From what I can remember, there were two girls (one from England and one from Sweden) and two male convicts- I mean Australians. One of the Aussies was the scruffiest and vilest creatures I'd ever laid eyes on. He had long scruffy hair and sported a battle worn Alice Cooper t-shirt with a whole under each armpit. Seeing him made me feel proud of the fact we sent them all away to an island in the southern hemisphere. I would later learn that there is no God when I ended up sharing a room with this UK reject for most of my stay at the kibbutz.

I was kindly shown to my room, I would be sharing a room with a Korean and a Swede. After staying at a hostel for two weeks; sharing a room with only two people seemed like a complete luxury. The dorms are split into two buildings and can hold about 80 volunteers in total. I arrived in winter time, so there was significantly less than this at the time. There was about 40 of us maybe at this point. But that was more than enough to cause some havoc. Within my first night there I was made to feel right at home. Apparently after Alex showed me to my room, everybody was asking him about me, he said to them all
"He's from England and I can't understand anything he says". I was still failing to get with grips to the fact that nobody could understand my flawless English. I needed to start dumbing it down a bit.

As soon as I had put my suitcase in my room, Alex kindly provided me with some alcohol. Alex's room was THE party room. If you wanted drink and scandal, Alex was the man to go to. My first night was a messy one, in fact the following months full stop, were going to be messy ones. So messy, that I will not tell you of them all now, because I think the partying alone deserves a whole chapter to itself. That's how crazy partying on a kibbutz is. I think the environment helps you get wasted. I can't explain it, for some reason, getting drunk on a kibbutz makes you a million times drunker and crazier than you've ever been drinking in your standard Friday/Saturday pub or nightclub. To be a kibbutz volunteer in the Holy Land and do the things a volunteer does, is truly a middle finger in God's face.

In fact, I'm getting so excited just thinking about the things I will write about my times in Bar'am. I'm going to stop there and call it a night. So stay tuned folks.

Ain't no love in this part of town- A very, very brief history of Israel

Before I begin; I would just like to take a moment to thank everybody who has read my blog. I honestly was not expecting this much feedback at such an early stage. So thank you very much. This blog was mainly intended to be a place for me to practise my writing and to be a diary for me to look back on. But to have all you on board for the ride is much appreciated and I promise to continue delivering some cheap entertainment for you all.

This following blog is not the story of my time in Israel. It is instead; a little bit about the country itself and why it's in the situation it is. I am not going to post my opinion in this blog (that will be at a later date). I'm going to try and explain one of the worlds most complex and sensitive issues, happening today, in an easily digestible format. So if your not interested, just close the window. I will be continuing my story after this blog...

Many of you will have seen Israel on the news occasionally. Usually the story will have something to do with war. But what's it all about exactly? Who's fighting and what's it all about? I'm pretty certain a lot of you reading this: A- haven't a clue B- couldn't give a toss or C- 'know' what's going on and have a clear view of what you think about the whole thing.

This is Israel:

Many years ago, back in the times when Jesus and pals were spreading the word of God whilst getting everybody shitfaced on cheap water-based wine, Israel was home to the Jews. In 63 BC, our good friends the Romans rolled up and decided to add Israel to their Pokemon card collection. The Jews weren't best pleased about this and decided they weren't going to take this. The Roman occupation was soon followed by many Jewish revolts objecting to having their country run by the Mario brothers. 

The first of these is called 'The Great Jewish Revolt'. About 300,000 Jews rose up to free their nation from Roman occupation. The Roman's, being true to form, wouldn't just quell this revolt. They would absolutely smash the Jews from being Usain Bolt into something more along the lines of Stephen Hawkins. Hundreds of thousands died at the Romans hands. The Romans then proceeded to destroy the Jews most sacred temple and most of Jerusalem with it.

This led to the 'Jewish Diaspora'. Which is when the Jews left their homeland of Israel and spread out all over this world. This event, that happened 2000 years ago, is the reason we have Jewish communities all over our home nations today.  They wanted to escape this slaughter they were being subjected to under the Romans. Unfortunately for the Jews, things weren't going to be much better in their new found homes. Especially in Christian Europe. The Jew was everyone's favourite scapegoat. In England, King Edward I expelled the Jews from our country in 1290. This wasn't revoked until 1656 when, one of our national heroes, Oliver Cromwell (f*ck the haters) decided they should be allowed to settle in our green and pleasant land.

So for 2000 years, the Jews just wandered from nation to nation. Hated in most countries they tried to find a home in. This persecution and hatred peaked in the 20th Century during the continental rule of Nazi Germany. I'm pretty sure we all know this story. 6 million Jews were systematically murdered in death camps all over the continent. But what people have to realise is, yes, the Holocaust was by far the worst thing that happened to the Jewish people, arguably to happen to any people in this world ever. But this hatred towards the Jews wasn't just the Nazi's. 

The world as a whole wasn't too keen on them, for 2000 years straight. It wasn't a rare sight in medieval Europe to see a bunch of Jews being burnt alive by some Christians for a crime they didn't do. I'm pretty sure if you ask your grandad what he thinks of Jews, he won't have something that positive to say about them. Whilst not as extreme as the Holocaust or other medieval persecutions. It still shows you how long the Jews have been disliked for. Of course, the world doesn't just hate Jews and there is hate being given from all over. But this item is purely about the Jews.

Finally, having enough of this global rough treatment. The Jews wanted a home again. Somewhere they can live in peace and harmony with one another. Without being treated like cockroaches by everyone around them. So in 1897, a fella named Theodor Herzl gathered some of his fellow Jews together and formed the World Zionist Organisation (WZO). The aim of this organisation was to form a homeland for the Jews. The place they wanted this homeland to be was where it all began; Judea aka Israel. What an amazing idea. Isn't it? Well yes...and no. 

After the Jewish Diaspora, the land that was 'Israel' was renamed 'Palestine'. As well, the land wasn't completely uninhabited when most of the Jews left. It was to become inhabited by Arabs who were later to become converts to Islam. It was their home now, nobody else lived there, so why not? Naturally, when the Arabs heard that the Jews wanted to make Palestine their new homeland, they weren't best impressed. Palestine was by now ruled by the Ottoman Empire (Turkish Empire), so it was them the WZO had to talk to. Funnily enough, the Ottomans (Muslims) swiftly rejected this offer.

In 1914, the world's second deadliest war broke out, World War 1. During this war the Ottoman Empire were allied with Germany. With much blood spilt, the British defeated the Ottoman Empire and took over many of their colonies. This included Palestine. This opened way for the 'Balfour Declaration of 1917' when the British Government declared: "His Majesty's government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people".

Which basically means, the British Government will allow the Jews to finally have their homeland. A very naive move some may argue, others believe they did it to win US support in the war as the US had many influential Jews in Government. The reason is irrelevant really. Because the fact is; it happened.

                                    

So now the Jews could finally form a new homeland. Unsurprisingly, the Arabs weren't going to let them just waltz on in. Which is fair enough. It's the same way the native Americans resisted white occupation of their country, or the Celts (Welsh, Scottish, Cornish etc.) resisted the Anglo-Saxon (English) from occupying modern day England. This is the conflict we have today in Israel. The Arabs vs The Jews. The British tried to draw up borders for an Arab home in Israel and a Jewish home. They also put an immigration cap on how many Jews could travel to this new homeland. The Jews didn't listen to this, they were fed up of being treated like scum and wanted a new home. They then started a brutal guerilla warfare against the British occupants. Despite the efforts of the British soldiers to quell the troubles, the Brits were told to stop this and leave by the US. The Brits left Israel in 1948 and the shit was well and truly about to hit the fan.

The moment the last Tommy left Palestine, all hell broke loose. The Arabs attacked the Israelis on all fronts. Soldiers from every nation surrounding Palestine attacked the newly born nation. But with the, not so distant memory, of 2000 years of pain and suffering behind the Jews; they weren't going to give this new chance to be free again, go easily. The moment this war kicked off in 1948, it has carried on until the present day. So THIS is what you see on the news.

The Jews have expanded their borders since 1948. The most significant of expansion was in 1967, after 'The 6 Day War'. This was when Israel pre-empted an Arab attack on all fronts and smashed them all in 6 days. Impressive ay! After this they occupied a lot of Arab land and made it their own. It was after this war that a  lot of the international criticism of Israel begun. There have been many wars after this, but I shan't go into detail on them. If your interested, then Wikipedia is the one. So now, the Palestinians are living in the Gaza Strip and West Bank (check 1st map, dark shaded areas). The Israeli's have the rest. 

I have my own opinion on all this. But you will hear this as I go through my story another time. I have tried to be unbiased as possible in this and just state the facts of what has happened. I apologise to those who have a deep knowledge of the subject, I am just trying to give a bite size history of it all. I have missed out A LOT. But I know a lot of you don't care much about history etc. so I've tried not to bore you too much! This is it for the history lesson. I hope some of you have learnt something new. It's important you know the foundations of it all, my future blogs will make a lot more sense to you. More importantly though, it's good to know about this topic as it's one of the major issues on our planet today. Thanks for listening. Knowledge is power my friends.

p.s. Sorry for if there's typing errors but I never double check my work.  I will be back to my story tomorrow!

ישראל (Israel)- Pt II: Tel-Aviv, shawarma and the KPC

Not long after i'd booked my tickets, I was now on my way to London Heathrow. I must admit that I was starting to get some pre-match jitters at this stage. I was about to fly to a country where I knew absolutely nobody nor the language and I didn't have that much money. I didn't need money if I was working and living in a kibbutz. But the problem was, I didn't know how much of a guarantee I had of getting a placement. To work on a kibbutz you must apply through a company called 'The Kibbutz Programme Centre' (KPC). I went on their website before I left England and emailed them all my details and went through a lot of hassle getting all sorts of documents together that the website said they required from me. They emailed me back saying I might have to wait for a week because placements are short. "No worries" I thought, that will give me a chance to chill out and adapt to the culture.

I got a lift, from a friend, to Heathrow airport. Once his car left me it all sunk in. This is it Goymer. Just me and you now. No running to mummy if it all goes wrong. I've always wanted to travel solo. The thought of travelling with someone else doesn't appeal to me. If you travel with a friend or a partner, you have to do everything together. But what if you want to go to A and they want to go to B? You have to discuss this and come up with a solution. I prefer being able to say "I'm going here today" and that's that. End of. It's all down to me, nobody else.

The flight wasn't too long, 5 hours. It was a late night flight though, so I wished to catch some sleep. I should of known better; being on a plane with a bunch of Israelis would stop me catching any sleep when a massive argument kicked off on the flight. Some Orthodox Jew (a religious Jew) was talking quite loudly, an attractive Israeli lady sitting in front of him wasn't having any of it. If someone's annoying you by speaking loudly and you wish them to be quite, what should you do? That's right. Shout at them louder and wake the whole plane up! Maybe anyone else would apologise if someone was angry about you disturbing their sleep. But no, these are Israelis. This means he has to shout back at her; obviously.

After an awkward flight, we finally arrived. I'm here! This is it. No more pipe dreams now. Now it is-real (sorry I couldn't resist it). My next step was to get to my hostel in the city centre. I set out a simple plan in my head:

-Arrive at Ben-Gurion Airport

-Get the train into the city centre

-Get on the bus to Hayrakon Street

-Check into Hostel

-Go to KPC

That's how simple travelling is. It's no different to getting the bus or train in your own country. I can completely see why people find the idea of travelling daunting, let alone travelling solo. I wish I could tell you all the secret to what makes a traveller have no fear in doing this. But I honestly believe you either have it or you don't. I said a couple of sentences ago "It's no different to getting the bus or train in your own country". I may have to take that statement back because it's not exactly true. Especially when the writing on the signs looks like this: הכוס. 

Oh dear. Five minutes into my adventure and i'm stuck already. Where the hell is the train station?! I had heard English is the mutual language of the world. Now was my time to put this to the test.

I nervously approach a young lad who has this "Don't disturb me or i'll smash you like a Gaza neighbourhood" look about him. Apparently English is the mutual language of the world. Well this is correct, it IS the mutual language of the world. But what I was yet to learn is that Johnny Foreigner learns English at school; out of text books. They learn how to pronounce every word PROPERLY and they aren't taught greetings like "awright mate?". This poor unsuspecting Binyamin Cohen had to try and decipher the complicated enigma that is working class English. After much blood and toil; he finally managed to point me in the right direction. 

To stop myself rambling on too much, I will just tell you that I made it to the hostel. Get in there Goymer! My mission was complete. All the boxes were ticked and I could finally relax and take in just what the hell is happening here. I am in Israel...I AM IN ISRAEL!!! WTF?! Why?! When?! This is crazy! This is awesome! I was absolutely buzzing. I remember going straight from my hostel to the Mediterranean beach in Tel-Aviv. It was about 8am and 30 degrees. All sorts of thoughts were going through my head. All happy thoughts. Everything bad that had happened to me was nothing. It all became clear to me how irrelevant that all was. The people that had done me wrong and hurt me were nothing. They will still continue with their uneventful, monotonous and mundane lives. Whilst I was living my life and there's nothing anyone can do about it. In the middle of this moment of clarity I fell asleep on the beach. I had had no sleep for over a day.

A white-man's face + long exposure to the sun= bad times. I may as well of washed my face in white phosphorus. I was in complete agony! But with a whole new canister of energy in me; it was time to explore and meet some people. How can I describe Tel-Aviv in a nut shell? Take your favourite modern Western city, fill it with nightclubs, shawarma shops (shawarma is the Middle Eastern kebab) and stick it on a beautiful Mediterranean beach. I love Tel-Aviv. It is mental. In a good way. Ever heard the term "the city that never sleeps"? Tel-Aviv is one of those. There's always something going on. I need to emphasise how Western and modern Israel is. Tel-Aviv is not Baghdad. Tel-Aviv is a thriving 1st world city in a beautiful location. Israel full stop is a first world country. They wear the same clothes as any other Westerner and listen to the same music. It's not a rare thing to see Avi Nachmias wearing a Ralph Lauren polo shirt, Levis denims and Lacoste trainers whilst listening to his favourite Oasis tracks on his I-pod. 

I learnt one of the biggest lessons about travelling within my first week of being in Tel-Aviv. Money can be spent...and fast. I spent every night in Tel-Aviv getting wasted on £5 bottles of beer and living on shawarma kebabs as my staple diet. It's so easy to make friends when you travel. If you went out that planning to not make friends, you would still make friends. It's impossible not to! I was sitting on the roof top of the hostel smoking some fine Egyptian hashish with a Dutch guy (not stereotypical at all!). We was smoking, chilling, talking about our countries and our views on Israel. The stars of the holy land were shining above us. I could even see the one that guided the 3 wise men to Jesus. It was truly euphoric. BAM!!!

The door slams open and an intoxicated well-built, skinhead Polish guy shoves a whisky bottle in my face "You must drink with me" (again, not stereotypical at all!). After a while of considering this offer (about half a second) I decided to accept. This was my first night. It was the first time in my life I felt so free. Here I am, in Israel, on a rooftop with a bunch of people from all over the world. Getting smashed. This is nuts! Me and the Polish guy especially were to become good friends. He had lived in London, Hackney, for 2 years. So he was the only one who could completely understand my corrupted English without many complications.

It was in Tel-Aviv I first encountered Israeli girls. Aah Israeli girls. So beautiful I think their proof enough that God must be a Jew. Israeli girls are STUNNING. They are definitely some of the best looking girls I have seen so far. But f*ck me, they are the hardest girls to work out! Israeli men call them 'Sabra'. Which is a prickly pear. Because Israeli girls are prickly and hard on the outside but soft as mush inside. I was having a great night of clubbing in Tel-Aviv. When this gorgeous chick catches my eye. I go over to her and her friends (accompanied by a wingman). The moment I open my mouth their faces all light up like a town centre at Christmas.

"Where are you from?!"

"England"

They instantly love me. Wow. So it's true. Foreign chicks LOVE the English accent. Then their all wanting me to say things like "wicked" "kno wha' I mean?". This is too easy I thought. Then the pretty one, I had made eye contact with, was all over me. I went to the bar with one of my mates and he says:

"Your in there Sam! She's all over you!". I cockily reply

"I know! This is like shooting fish in a barrel"

This, girl who I shall call "Ayala", then suggested she can take us all to an even better club. Awesome. So we promptly follow her lead whilst she takes my hand. It's pretty much set in stone by now...isn't it? We get to the club and Ayalah turns to me with this grin on her face

"My taxi is here, I have to go now"

And as quick as she came, she was gone. Just like that. WHAT...THE...FUCK! We was all shell shocked. What just happened?! I played it all by the book. My game was flawless. I could of pulled 20 English girls with the effort I put into trying to get her. But she just didn't want to know. In my whole 6 months of being in Israel. I never got one Israeli girl. I learnt that the majority of them want to settle down. It's near enough impossible to get one night stand with no feelings involved. So maybe when i'm ready to start I family I will go back to Israel to find my wife. Because the Israeli girl is truly a fine specimen.

I spent all my money in two weeks. I had to spend the second week eating hummus and bread for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Yet, I was happier having this adventure eating hummus and bread all day than I was back home eating like a King. It took me 2 weeks to get a Kibbutz placement. The whole thing was a joke and the whole situation couldn't be more typical of an Israeli.

I turn up at the KPC on my first day. Sitting behind the desk is this absolutely vile and grotesque creature called Bella. She was HIDEOUS. It was like Jabba the Hut and Freddy Krueger had a love child. Disgusting. It also turned out she had as much manners as she did good looks. She asked me who I was, I explained who I am and she gave me a very vacant stare. She had no recollection of my emails or anything. She said I had to start the process all over again. My stomach sank. I spent all this time emailing her, sending her documents. Now she says she doesn't know who I am. BOLLOCKS! She was the laziest beast known to man. I went to the office everyday for 2 weeks and all she said was "Come back tomorrow". The only time she did offer me a kibbutz was one with only 5 volunteers, it was next to Gaza (the area where the war is happening) and it was construction work. A far cry from the cheap booze and foreign girls I was looking for. Needless to say I rejected this offer.

FINALLY, after two weeks of "come back tomorrow", she tells me I have a place on a kibbutz. It is a popular kibbutz in the north of Israel. I had to speak to the volunteer recruiter on the phone because he was reluctant to employ an Englishman. He had a bad history of Englishmen drinking too much and starting fights (doesn't sound like us at all...). He asked me who I support in football. I said Arsenal, turns out he too loves Arsenal so he took me right away. Let me tell you something; for all you football haters out there. It is a universal language and reaches so many people in parts of the world it's unreal. Men from all over the world have 3 universal languages: Music, girls and football. You can never go wrong with them.

It was time for me to leave the party capital of the Middle East. I wish I could write a whole lot more about my experiences in Tel Aviv but I fear I have bored you long enough! So now was time for the main chapter of my journey. To live and work on a kibbutz. What is a kibbutz? I always struggle to explain this. It's basically a type of settlement where many families live, everybody there works and helps each other out. It is a self-sustainable society where you work for food and accommodation. It's a lot deeper and more to it than that. But I don't want to confuse you! So it was off to Kibbutz Baram I go. I said farewell to my Tel Aviv chums (who I still stay in touch with) and headed off to the north of Israel. What lay ahead for me? Cheap booze and foreign girls? Or no booze and a bunch of old bearded Jews who wanted me to do gruesome tasks for a free falafel everyday whilst I sleep in a shelter made of asbestos? There was only one way to find out...

ישראל (Israel)- Pt I: Why I went

Seeing as this blogs mainly focused around my travels. I think it's best I tell you all the story about the 6 months I spent in the Jewish State of Israel. "Why Israel?!" I hear many people say with a disgusted look on their face as if i've just farted. "Weren't you scared of being blown up?" "What's actually there?" "Isn't it just a desert full of mud huts and camels?". Well, if Israel really was just a giant desert full of camels and land mines; I would of just joined the British Army so I could at least get paid to go to such a place. I think the best way for me to show you why I went to Israel, is to tell you my story...

Long story short, i've always wanted to see the world. For as long as I can remember i've been obsessed with travelling the world like a 21st century James Cook. So in 2008 I decided to make this dream a reality. I worked harder than an Afghan undertaker and saved up enough money to go to the world's biggest prison: Australia. This was it. It was time for the bird to leave the nest. I was finally going out there into the big world. Standing before me was an ocean of mystery. Now was my time to set sail on the ship of curiosity and conquer the worlds hidden treasures. I was about to embark on the great crusade. No-one could stop me...apart from a girl. I completely fucked off my dream for a girl and didn't go. Sorry dream, as much as I love you and won't die happy until I make you a reality, I have to say goodbye to you for this relationship.

Not my brightest moment I must say. Because so far in my life, relationships have been like fat people...they don't work out. So in 2009 this relationship ended. In quite an ugly fashion too. It was the 'Princess Diana in Paris' of relationships. But it was God's will, or whatever the powers that be are. Because this meant one thing; I was a free man. The chains were off and the world was mine. Naturally I had spent most of my money whilst in a relationship. It would mean working all over again to get to Oz and I had to leave NOW. The thought of this depressed me immensely. I was a prisoner of my own misery.

But then, I was rescued. I know exactly what Christians mean when they talk about being 'saved'. Because this is exactly what happened to me. I was on Facebook and by chance a good man by the name of 'Ben' started talking to me. I used to go to school with this man. We done the usual routine conversation of "How you doing, what you up to these days bla bla". This was when it happened. He told me he was in Israel, on something called a 'Kibbutz' (wtf is that?! I hear you say. Exactly, so did I). He told me all about the Kibbutz. To put it in short (i.e. the parts I paid attention to). He was living in this place with hot weather, cheap booze and plenty of foreign girls who are drawn to an English accent like bees to a flower. Needless to say, I was sold.

So there and then I booked my flight to Tel-Aviv. I didn't think about it, or ask anyone what I should do. I just booked it. This is the difference between people that travel and people that 'want' to travel. Where as those that want to travel think about it and weigh out the pros and cons. Us who do travel just promptly put the blind fold on and jump into the unknown. I believe it was John Lennon who said "Life is what happens when your busy making other plans". I couldn't put it any better myself. I had nothing to lose. I was miserable with my life. Too many people just accept their situation and refuse to change it. Well not me. I was unhappy with where my life was going. I had to be the one who makes it better again.

With no further ado, it was time to begin my journey to 'The Land of Milk and Honey' as it's known to the Jews. I have always been interested in the Middle East. I'm a massive history boffin and this region is just oozing with history, from the Roman Empire, to the Crusades all the way through to the Ottoman Empire. Anywho, I shall spare you from a history lesson...for now. Because to know Israel, you really do have to know about the history. Because the history is very much the reason for what is going on today.

What lay ahead for me in the Levant? Not camels and land mines. I knew that much already. I was expecting a lot from this trip; and I wasn't disappointed...

My first (and possibly my last) blog post!

I've been pondering on whether to write a blog, or not, for some time now. But finally, i've managed to gather the courage and the energy to click the "Create a blog for free" button. Why am I doing this exactly? Well for several reasons. These being:

1. I can use the blog as a diary, to look back on, when I eventually finish my travels.
2. I used to be the bees knees with my writing skills back in the day. But I don't write at all anymore. So I figured this could help sharpen my skills back up.

AND FINALLY

3. I am massively in love with myself and everything I do or say. So why not write my awesome thoughts down in the archives of time so I can look back on them in awe? I will probably/definitely be this blogs biggest and only fan!

This blog really won't start kicking off until the 9th Feburary; when my main journey begins. I'm initially flying from Stansted to Amsterdam where I will be visiting friends, general sightseeing, looking for the God that is Dennis Bergkamp and possibly getting high...

After this it's a one way ticket to Sydney via-Frankfurt via-Shanghai via-someone kill me this flight is going to be a bigger ball ache than a knee to the nut sack! But I shan't bore you with all the details now. I promise to try and keep this blog both humorous and semi-interesting. Right, now I must leave to watch my beloved Arsenal play against Man Utd. I must admit, I am bricking it! I will post soon with pictures and stories of my experiences in Israel last year. I'm sure all my fellow Baramites will appreciate some of this!

Ciao