Saturday 10 September 2016

Old Bags Vs 1st Bag

A slow day hanging around Tel Aviv.  After a late start I enjoy a leisurely breakfast on the sea front.  For the princely sum of 6 quid I got an omelette, salad, bowl of yoghurt another of cheese and a small loaf of bread that came with a selection of things to spread on it, all washed down with orange juice and a coffee.  To give my food a chance to settle I took a walk down the sea front with the camera and managed to get a great shot of a kingfisher on the shore.  To get the shot I had to wade into the sea and managed to get caught out by a wave.  Time will tell if it was worth it.
By the time I was ready for lunch I was about done with the humidity and dodging of the plethora of electric push bikes and scooters that seem to have invaded Tel Aviv and made my way to a sea front pub where I ordered a beer and salad and settled in for the afternoon.  Not a bad way to kill time waiting for a taxi.
My driver was a Netherlander who spent one month in 12 in Israel with family and drove a taxi on Fridays for pocket money.  When he’s back home he spends his time importing kosha food to the UK.  Very random. 
The airport was very airportish.  The only difference was the extra security the Israelis seem to enjoy.  3 security checks and a 25-minute interrogation later I was in.
The flight was delayed but with no plans other than finding my hotel this really didn’t matter.  As the engines where pushed to full throttle a group of wizened old Greek women starting clapping and cheering like a stag-do on its way to Benidorm.  A little unusual but I thought nothing more of it.  Then we landed and they kicked off again.  As soon as the brakes came off they were up and reaching into overhead lockers to the point that the stewards had to bark at them to get them back into their seats.  Given that none of the ladies in question where over about 4 feet tall and must have weighed the same as an autumn leaf (which would also be the same colour and texture as their skin) this was an impressive feat to observe.  Finally, the plane was parked and the elderly hoard where up once again hell bent on getting off the aircraft as quickly as possible.  I can only assume that there was a bridge party offering free gin to the first through the door.  I fell victim to the first wave of pushy pensioners and fell back to follow on, not wanting to get between an OAP and her gin again.  Somehow there was a second rush which brushed the unaware aside as they marched on passport control.  Luckily the Blitzkrieg of Berserkers was checked by simple technology as they couldn’t fathom the biometric scanners.  Being the youth in this scenario I held the upper hand and over took the main force.  I didn’t see the advance party who had, somehow, got passed passport control and had surrounded the luggage carousel from the opening to about two thirds of the way around.  Wanting to limit any further interaction I moved to the rear and waited. 

The alarm went off and the baggage started to appear.  To be more precise; my bag appeared, first.  As it sailed gently passed the granny gang one or two of them randomly grabbed at it for no obvious reason but it got to me in one piece and, with a very smug look on my face, I collected it up and walked away.  Victory was mine.



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