Tell Ya Later

The first time I come to Tel Aviv is by airplane. The next, by bike..
I ride out of Nurit and Shay's street past the Cub Scout's nest and down a big road. A quarter mile or so down the road there is a power tower ride called the Black Mamba. Its the night before school begins and i can hear children screaming, laughing. I ride for 20 minutes or so along the motorway on the bike paths. Six lanes of traffic on one side, parks and soccer fields on the other. I see the big smoke stack that marks the start of the city of Tel Aviv, and take a right. its early, seven at night, and many businesses are open. The streets are busy. Its hard to tell what part of town I'm in. There are highscale dressmakers next to flourescent-lit diners. The sidewalks are filthy, spotted flagstones, but the wooden benches are brand new. I pass a dog stylist, then a hair stylist, then a laundromat so full and cluttered it seems to be the very mouth of hell. The city is lit with warm yellow lamps. My hair is salty from catching waves in you guessed it- the mediterranean sea.Its getting plentry dark already, cos we're in the equatorial zone. I'm 8,000 miles from home and as happy as clams.