I’ve never liked to “party”. And yeah, I always have those quotes when I say “party”. When I say “party” out loud, I use air quotes.
“NO! No, I will NOT ‘party’ with you. PERVERT.”
I guess this is because I’m strangely literal, and somewhere along the line I got it into my head that the main point of “partying” is to find someone to get it on with. Actually, that’s still what I think partying is. And so, no, I do NOT like to party. Except alone with my husband. (Wink wink, Honey!)
That makes this next story all the more hilarious to me.
We were in Israel. Jerusalem. It was our last day, and our flight was to leave Tel Aviv late in the evening. We figured we’d book a bus tour, bring our luggage along, and would be dropped off in Tel Aviv at end of the day.
It was one of the longest, most exhausting days of my life. The great thing about looking back at these pictures is, they don’t really capture the exhaustion at all. It looks like just a tonne of fun! And a lot of beautiful sights! *happy sigh* But there is the fact that we hadn’t eaten or drank anything until that pig-out at the Jordan River concession, and it was a long hot day.
The guide was happy to dispose of us in Tel Aviv.
“By the beach?” he asked.
We looked at each other. The beach. It hadn’t even occurred to us that we might now hit the beach.
“Sure!” we told him. Why not.
And thus, we found ourselves here… with our luggage.
Well! This certainly felt like culture shock. Especially after a full day visiting religious sites.
We were a little discombobulated at first.
Andrew declared that he wanted to go see the Bauhaus architecture that Tel Aviv is known for… and I was so exhausted, and so longing to put my feet in the Mediterranean, that I wished him well, kissed him, and off he went.
Well, first he took a picture…
…and THEN off he went.
Steve, Cara, and I settled in with the luggage. We found a table and some chairs and set up camp on the beach. And then I couldn’t stand it anymore — I HAD to get into that water.
I opened my suitcase right there on the sand, and dug around until I found my bathing suit. After changing in a nearby restaurant’s facilities, I went into the water.
It felt like the best decision of my entire life. Bobbing in the waves at sunset, it was perfect. Just perfect. I felt all the cares of my day wash away. When I returned to our little spot on the beach, we ordered hummus and tomatoes and beers and it was all amazing.
Andrew returned from his adventure, and being surprised to find me in my beach-wear, he made me pose for a picture. I’ll even post it here, because the beach looks amazing, and you can’t see me very well in this one anyway, haha.
It was a perfect, perfect experience. I will always think fondly of the Tel Aviv beach.
Alas, the time came that we had to find a taxi and head to the airport. We found one immediately, and nestled in. I think he was playing some kind of ethnic music? Something that I thought was pretty good, and suited our experiences in Israel.
But then he switched the music!
And THAT was the first time I heard Sak Noel’s song Loca people (what the fuck).
Basically just techno with a confused voice interjecting “what the fuck” every once in a while, and talking about wanting to party. Like, very very badly wanting to party. “Party”.
We dissolved in laughter. This guy pegged us as tremendous partiers!
Yes… yes because THAT suited us MUCH better than his previous, normal selection.
My first day back at the gym at home, that song came on, and I laughed so hard I nearly fell off the elliptical. Ohhhhh the memories.
I’m not a partier. No way. But I do like Tel Aviv.
Also, PS — this story is PRECISELY why you must ALWAYS pack your bathing suit. You just never know.