I don’t speak French but I’m very very very sorry

Is what I said to the girl who sleeps in the bunk below me after my shoe fell on her head.

I am back in Tel Aviv. This means two things.

1. Xavier has left Israel and I’m all alone.

2. Xavier has left Israel and can no longer censor my blog.

I am currently chillin in a “Youth” hostel. A “Youth” hostel where everyone seems to be a bit older than a “youth”, and where pet dogs wearing harnesses are allowed to roam the small grounds freely feasting only on head phones (mine). But hey, whatever. It’s not like I’m judging or anything (I am actually).

I’m a bit behind on the whole blogging thing, so here’s what happened in the past few days.

Xavier and I left the beautiful, fun and awesome city of Tel Aviv to catch a bus to a nice little town called Tiberias on the Sea of Galilee. The bus trip was lovely. We even passed Nazareth where Jesus spent his troubled Degrassi years.

Our Chalet, Hotel Berger, was a really cute little establishment perched some where on the mountains over looking the Galilee. I’m 100% convinced that we were the only guests though.

For din dins we grabbed a “Saint Peter’s” fish, which is the same kind that Jesus probs would haven eaten.

In fact I’m pretty sure that Jesus touched this EXACT fish (I’m going to claim it).

We hung around Tiberias for two days before realizing that, although very beautiful, it’s not the hippest happening place in Israel. So we got on a bus to Haifa.

Haifa.

It rained the ENTIRE time.

We stayed in the Russian quarter in a hotel clearly modeled off the labyrinth (thankfully there wasn’t a fire). Once again I’m fairly sure we were the only guests, as every time we left our room the owner just seemed to magically appear and stare at us. It was very comforting.

Haifa was beautiful, well what we saw of Haifa was beautiful. We headed to grab some lunch along one of the main streets and ended up in a tiny little Russian restaurant that served the most amazing hybrid of Israeli and Russian food.

Cold, wet and potentially cursed by a gypsy (it’s a story that needs a glass of wine to be told over), we only spent a night in Haifa before deciding it was time to kick it back to Tel Aviv via the train.

So this is where I leave you right now. Alone. In a “Youth” hostel. In Tel Aviv. With beer. And a dog wearing a harness that has just eaten my head phones. Cool.