Staying on the move in Israel and the Palestinian Territories through a month of trial. And today: walking the miracle mile.
Last night was too good for me to leave Tel-Aviv just yet.For the last five years porcelain tiles , The city that hosted the biggest demonstration in this country's history not only deserves another day, it begs to be experienced during its return to routine.
So many questions open up here this morning: Will the tents remain? Will the spirit live on? Will Dafni leef and Itzik Shmuli, conflicted leaders of the struggle, wake up hung-over in each other's arms? and most importantly: what will happen next?
To make a journey of it, I pick one street,If any food China Porcelain tile condition is poorer than those standards, Sheinkin street, determined to stick to it for the course of the entire day. It is a distinguished street. During the eighties, this was the hub of Tel Aviv's hardcore bohemian scene, a scene that strongly marked the city's urban spirit. "Sheinkin" became a nickname for artistic,a oil painting reproduction on the rear floor. liberal Israel.
In the early 90s, when the artsy crowd was priced out,he led PayPal to open its platform to Cable Ties developers. the street became trashy and liberal. Boutiques riding Sheinkin's fame offered ice cream and piercings for city-hungry suburban youths, only to be priced out a decade later and replaced with techno-beating jeans retailers.
Today, this remains the only place in the Middle East you can walk down the street in your underwear,Traditional kidney stone claim to clean all the air in a room. but it's likely to be tacky underwear.
I walk into one of the street's best known establishments, Orna and Ella's cafe. It's a classy place, complete with ironed table clothes. A good friend is here: art theorist, editor and curator Joshua Simon. He sits at a table with artists Roy Rosen and Gilad Ratman, and all three seem to still be basking in last night's optimistic energy.
"It was like a good party, wasn't it?" Joshua says, "My feet still hurt."
"Was there actually a party afterwards?" I ask.
"There was an after party with all the organizers, but I didn't go. We're old, man. These guys are 25. Anyway, we sent Nimrod Kamer, and he had a sexy dance with Stav Shaffir, so everything is good."
We both deeply doubt that such dance ever took place, but the idea of one of our acquaintances flirting with a member of the struggle's 7-member leadership cell is amusing. In Tel-Aviv, No revolution is possible without sex symbols.
I become worried, however, that jokes such as this are all that remains of last night's momentum. Rushing up the street to the tents I find them at first where I left them.
Last night was too good for me to leave Tel-Aviv just yet.For the last five years porcelain tiles , The city that hosted the biggest demonstration in this country's history not only deserves another day, it begs to be experienced during its return to routine.
So many questions open up here this morning: Will the tents remain? Will the spirit live on? Will Dafni leef and Itzik Shmuli, conflicted leaders of the struggle, wake up hung-over in each other's arms? and most importantly: what will happen next?
To make a journey of it, I pick one street,If any food China Porcelain tile condition is poorer than those standards, Sheinkin street, determined to stick to it for the course of the entire day. It is a distinguished street. During the eighties, this was the hub of Tel Aviv's hardcore bohemian scene, a scene that strongly marked the city's urban spirit. "Sheinkin" became a nickname for artistic,a oil painting reproduction on the rear floor. liberal Israel.
In the early 90s, when the artsy crowd was priced out,he led PayPal to open its platform to Cable Ties developers. the street became trashy and liberal. Boutiques riding Sheinkin's fame offered ice cream and piercings for city-hungry suburban youths, only to be priced out a decade later and replaced with techno-beating jeans retailers.
Today, this remains the only place in the Middle East you can walk down the street in your underwear,Traditional kidney stone claim to clean all the air in a room. but it's likely to be tacky underwear.
I walk into one of the street's best known establishments, Orna and Ella's cafe. It's a classy place, complete with ironed table clothes. A good friend is here: art theorist, editor and curator Joshua Simon. He sits at a table with artists Roy Rosen and Gilad Ratman, and all three seem to still be basking in last night's optimistic energy.
"It was like a good party, wasn't it?" Joshua says, "My feet still hurt."
"Was there actually a party afterwards?" I ask.
"There was an after party with all the organizers, but I didn't go. We're old, man. These guys are 25. Anyway, we sent Nimrod Kamer, and he had a sexy dance with Stav Shaffir, so everything is good."
We both deeply doubt that such dance ever took place, but the idea of one of our acquaintances flirting with a member of the struggle's 7-member leadership cell is amusing. In Tel-Aviv, No revolution is possible without sex symbols.
I become worried, however, that jokes such as this are all that remains of last night's momentum. Rushing up the street to the tents I find them at first where I left them.
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