Adios!

I guess this is it from me for the next three weeks or so. I've got a few more hours to kill, including a bike ride on the Ayalon freeway, just for the hell of it...after that it's the big after-fasty meal and then off to the airport. I'm not sure I'll have the time or energy to invest in blogging, though I might leave the occasional update in the comments to this post...so if you've really not got anything better to do, pop back now and again. Yalla, bye!

Yom Kippur:

All quiet round this neck of the woods...

Tonight Yom Kippur has kicked in, the Jewish 'Day of Atonement'. 25 hours of fasting (mrs. anglosaxy is fasting on behalf of the anglosaxy castle), cycling, and er, well, not much more. The roads are empty of vehicles, but full of packs of kids on bikes heading in all directions. I've just come from momma anglosaxy's place, after piling in a last meal before the fast officially began. This was followed by endless rounds of Rummikub, a game which mrs. anglosaxy excels at...after failing miserably to beat her at even one game, I threw in the towel and headed home on the bike, Z running alongside me. I've got a load of stuff to do before tomorrow's flight...
And no, I'm not fasting. Did try it once and got to 17 hours. In the meantime, and this is between you and me, the toaster oven is heating up a couple of slices of yesterday's pizza...

Appreciated but...

Ever received a gift that failed to press your buttons? A gift that didn't really suit your needs? A gift that was the cheaper, lower quality version of the item you were about to buy for yourself anyway? And how do you respond upon receiving such a gift when a horde of beady eyes are waiting for your reaction as you open your 'surprise' present?

Well, I fucked up last night. After finishing teaching in Rosh Ha'ayin, I met up with mrs. anglosaxy at her brother's place. I was soon presented with a small box in thanks for helping his kids out with their English. Unwrapping the box, I was delighted to see an MP3 player - but my joy was stifled when I saw it was of the Flash Disk variety. This thing can hold about 50 songs - after the first long train/bus ride in China I'm sure I'm going to be bored with the collection of songs I can store on it - and how do I choose 50 of my favourite songs anyway? As a lover of music, trying to explain to someone that doesn't 'get it' that 50 songs really isn't enough is an impossible task. So, mrs. anglosaxy was very pissed at me, for not faking enough unbridled joy...I had actually told her that I was going to buy an MP3 player as a hint NOT to buy me one as a surprise present (birthday coming up...) - I've seen the mothballs in her wallet and knew the MP3 player I might end up with...

Not sure whether to gracefully hand it back and say 'thanks, but no thanks...' or stick it out and make the most of it. Maybe I'm just an ungrateful git after all...

Irish eyes are smiling

Interesting article about the recent explosion of Irish-themed pubs in Israel. Personally, I'm not that impressed with the majority of them, as most seem to put on some U2 or Van Morrison (if you're lucky), put some green paint on the walls and boast that they have draught Guiness in order to sell themselves as an 'Irish pub'. Always reminds me of the craze a few years ago, when these frozen yoghurt shops started sprouting up everywhere...and disappeared within a few short months. Molly Bloom's in Tel Aviv is the granddaddy of Irish pubs and remains the one to beat...

I've been brushing up on my Chinese in preparation for Saturday's flight (which looks like it will be changed thanks to the general strike launched today): dim sum, chow mein, wok, wonton soup, sweet and sour, fortune cookie, and so on...

STRIKE UPDATE: 14:57 - 4 El Al planes circling in Israeli airspace seeking permission from Histadrut (the leading trade union over here) to land at striking Ben-Gurion Airport.

Off we jolly well go

Finally picked up my ticket to China this afternoon. And got the OK from my boss, so its all systems go, Saturday night...

Off to more heavenly pastures is Brian Clough, one of English football's larger than life characters. He was probably the best manager NOT to manage the national side, probably due to some of his abrasive comments. Some of his finest:

• On Eric Cantona's infamous kung fu kick at a fan: 'I'd have cut his balls off.'
• On how he rated himself: 'I wouldn't say I was the best manager in the business. But I was in the top one.'
• On dealing with Roy Keane: 'I only ever hit Roy the once. He got up so I couldn't have hit him very hard.'
• On dealing with a player who disagrees: 'We talk about it for 20 minutes and then we decide I was right.'
• Referring to Sir Alex Ferguson's failure to win two successive European Cups (which he won in 1979 and 1980): 'For all his horses, knighthoods and championships, he hasn't got two of what I've got. And I don't mean balls!'

Waiting for an OK

I'm still waiting for an OK from the boss. I didn't catch him today and had to settle for sending an on my knees type email. Can't fail to work, I did a spot of brown-nosing and also reminded him that they owe me some 30 days holiday.

Meanwhile, the trip to China is picking up steam as well as extra passengers. It was originally meant to be a men only trip with myself and M, but it appears to have taken on a couple of stragglers, one of whom is a female, uh-oh...I'm going to have to put my foot down otherwise this is going to end up as a group trip.

Holiday season

Tomorrow I'm going to have to tell my boss that I want 3 weeks off, as anglosaxy becomes anglosine (I'm off to China next Sunday, without mrs. anglosaxy - shock, horror, gasp!). I'm not quite sure how I'm going to put it as it's kinda short notice...but hey, I have some 30 days holiday due and I've finished my tasks. Why didn't I tell them sooner? It's a long story, but I have some airline connections and they promised to help me out with a cheap ticket. That help didn't materialise until last week...
Mmm, how do I put it?
Hi boss, just thought I'd let you know that I'm off for 3 weeks next week. Take it easy and I'll send a postcard.
OR
Hi boss, is it OK if I do a bunk for 3 weeks. I have been working my arse off the last few weeks and I think it's the least you can do to give me the OK.
OR
Hi boss, how are you this fine morning? Can I get you a cup of coffee, tea? Perhaps a newspaper? I like your shoes, very smart, suits a fine executive type like yourself. By the way, did I tell you that I've been called over to China for a Technical Writing seminar? What, you didn't get my email? Shoot, I've already given them the OK and bought the tickets out of my hard-earned, if depreciating, salary...

Child-free zone

Well, they've gone. Mrs. anglosaxy's nephews slept over at our place last night, so it was a good excuse to get out the PlayStation again. It was surprisingly easy work, they're good kids. We promised them they could sleep in our tent in the garden, but they crashed out early so we stuck 'em on the floor in our room.

They came over last night after we'd finished at the in-laws in Rananna. Wow, great food, very exotic with a series of ever more promising courses. Looks like mrs. anglosaxy's brother has fallen on his feet...

Food glorious food

The New Year was met with lots and lots of food at last night's family shindig. Lots of good, traditional Jewish cooking like gefilte fish (not that keen on it myself), and other more exotic concoctions, such as spicy pumpkin. All washed down with copious amounts of beer and wine. For dessert, it was the Maccabi Tel Aviv against Bayern Munich ("Nazis" as so succinctly put by mrs. anglosaxy's 9 year old cousin) game, which was a little bit disappointing because they had a chance or two to get something from the game. Unfortunately, it was a 1-0 loss, and that meant a few grumpy faces...

Today was an easy day, just a cycle round the park for me and M coming over for a beer. Mrs. anglosaxy has spent the majority of the day at her parent's place - poor kid, she hadn't seen them for at least 8 hours...Tomorrow it's another big family meal, this time in Rananna with the new in-laws. The girl that married mrs. anglosaxy's brother is a diamond, while her mother is a legendary cook, I'm salivating already as to what we can expect tomorrow...

Happy New Year!

Tonight the Jewish New Year (Rosh Ha'shana) kicks in. That means the whole tribe pay a visit to momma anglosaxy's place. Plenty of good food, plenty of alcohol, and tonight, thank God, plenty of football. Thank you God, thank you! I wasn't sure how I was going to wangle an early exit, but momma anglosaxy told me this morning that she's going to bring the TV out to the patio for 'the guys'. I guess there'll be some interested males in the Maccabi Tel Aviv game, especially one who is the uncle of a famous footballer in Israel, but we don't like to brag...then again I could drop a hint or two and tell you that this 'aviron' could definitely do with improving his English, perhaps at Berlitz? (that's a damn fine clue)...

Anyway, there should be around 40-50 guests tonight, should be really fun (er...). Can anybody beat that? I'm going to need photographic evidence...

Happy New Year!

Please call me

The holiday season over here means that the anglosaxy castle gets to purchase a new toy. This year we've gone for a cordless phone, our very first. Oh the joy of walking around without having to worry about the phone cord stretching beyond the point where it becomes a lethal weapon. Z no longer dives under the table whenever the phone rings...

Hi-tech recovery indeed...

The corridor is abuzz with excited bee workers, who have just been to see the Queen bee to pick up their holiday bonus. The long white envelope is, however, not quite fat enough, proving that the alleged hi-tech recovery is still to hit these parts and that this company is hi-tech in name only...150 shekels (around 18 quid). Even mrs. anglosaxy, who I swear has strong Scottish roots, declared this as 'Farsh' (worthless). Should I be thankful for every shekel? Yes, I know I should, but come on, I used to get healthier holiday bonuses working as a tourist 10 years ago...

Me? Getting old?

Last night went shopping with mrs. anglosaxy down Shenkin Street, Tel Aviv's hippest and most happening road. I have to say that I haven't been down there for at least a year, but even in that year or so, things seem to have moved onwards and upwards. I like to think of myself as being 'in touch' with the yoof of today, but there are so many pierced navels and eyebrows, wide expanses of skin covered in animal/Celtic tatoos - the cute little roses/cherries/Little Princes typically located on the right shoulder are no longer enough - and dreadlocks, that it really doesn't resemble the Shenkin that I knew and worked in a few years ago. The lunatics appear to have taken over the asylum. And hey, shop assistant, you continue with your winning bitchy personality, that really is the way to ensure I'll be back...

[heavy Yorkshire accent] Eee up lad, I remember when you could get change from a ten shekel note (not the coin)...[/heavy Yorkshire accent]

Speedy Gas-salez

Bloody Hell! How about this for service...

We ran out of gas on Friday night (in Israel, gas usually comes bottled), just as I was in the middle of one of my Naked Chef impressions. I wasn't starkers but I was in fine form, rustling up some pasta with tuna and cherry tomatoes. Anyway, this morning mrs. anglosaxy ordered a replacement. We paid the extra 20 shekels to ensure that it arrived within a guaranteed 48 hours. Otherwise, what with the Jewish New Year coming up, we might have had to wait until next week.

Five minutes later, I KID YOU NOT, there was a knock at the door. It was the delivery guy with a gas bottle perched on his shoulder. After picking myself up off the floor, I asked him how the hell did he get here so quick. He told me that he was in the neighbourhood and the office had caught him in time on his walkie-talkie. I've a good mind to call Rafi Ginat and his consumer affairs program 'Kolbotek' - this kind of service just isn't on. This is Israel for chrissake!

Hot momma and poppa anglosaxy tip for anyone running out of gas and needing just enough to fry an egg; boil a kettle of water and then pour the water over the gas canister. Hey presto, another 2-3 minutes gas...

From 11 to 12

I've just seen some of the shots of the memorial ceremonies for 9/11, and it still numbs me when I actually stop and think about what happened. I was in England at the time, preparing for my wedding to the future mrs. anglosaxy, and I remember we had a big fight that same lunchtime, about what I really don't remember. What I do remember is how that fight paled into insignificance as we watched live pictures on the BBC (quite why the TV was on at this time - let's face it, what is there to watch on the BBC in the middle of the day? - also pales into nothingness). Our shock and horror brought us back into line as we sat perched on my parents' sofa, watching in terror as the events unfolded before us...

OK, that's enough of that...you might be pleased to know that mrs. anglosaxy is safely tucked up in bed after downing 3 ouzos, a 'Campari Mix' and a small vodka and coke. I blame her father, terrible influence. Why she has to insist on doing her version of Madonna's 'Like a Prayer' whenever she's had a couple, I'll never know. Small mercies, I guess - if it had been that poppy Romanian tune all over the radio recently, I would have been reaching for the ouzo bottle myself...

Sip, talk, sip, talk, wipe mouth with sleeve

I'm getting to enjoy my English lessons with M, a very talented Russian immigrant who has just got an amazing scholarship offer from a university in Holland, and therefore wants to improve her spoken English. She's painfully self-conscious when speaking English, but actually not bad once she starts sipping the ol' Tuborg. We just talk and talk and I throw in a few tips about letter writing, or new vocabulary etc. A nice way to spend an hour, and I get cash and free beer...hang on, there's a dream business opportunity in there somewhere...

Out of interest, in the good ol' US of A do they ever sign off formal letters with 'Yours sincerely' or 'Yours faithfully'? I'm presuming this is funky British English at its quirky best...

World Cup glory

Forgot to mention yesterday's World Cup matches, which, you might be surprised to hear, resulted in Israel and England wins. Yep, both winning on the same night, that must be a first. I actually caught most of the Israeli game (another first) sat at a birthday party, all us lads tucking into freshly singed kebabs and humus while shouting obscenities at various Israeli players. I didn't have a clue who half the players were, but when in Rome...

Next week the Champions League kicks off, again with Israeli involvement with Maccabi Tel Aviv. I hate Israeli club football but as their home games will be played in the National Stadium, which is just across the road from me, I hope to catch at least one of their games (they have a corker of a group, in Bayern Munich, Juventus and Ajax). Next week's game is a no chancer because it falls on the evening of the Jewish New Year, when everybody and his dog will be seated at the traditional slap-up dinner amongst fellow tribe members. Oh well, only Bayern Munich. Tel Aviv will stuff 'em! Right.

Bigwig

I first posted this yesterday but Blogger wouldn't let me publish it...

Just had the displeasure of meeting one of our company directors, being paraded around the building by the CEO. Ain't it funny how your work suddenly becomes important and impressive in the eyes of your CEO, when he is trying to lick where the sun don't shine...I don't think the director was that impressed by my corridor location, his question of 'How long have you been working here?' seemed to raise doubts as to my sanity...that reminds me, I must tell you one day about our toilets here in corridor land, vying for the title of 'the worst in Tel Aviv'. Don't worry, this won't be included in a future Picture Week. And just thank God that this site isn't 'scratch'n'sniff'...

At least I won't be here tomorrow (now today), got loads to do; off to some country's embassy to get a visa, buy an MP3 player (still not sure which, anyone have any rock solid recommendations?) the beach, three English lessons (including a chat over a beer), and a meeting with a lawyer.

Inn-flatable

Now this is my kind of pub. The kind you can pack up and take with you anywhere. But will it ever 'take off' in Israel? Hee hee :-) More pictures and details here.

After last night's traumatic visit to the dentist and being prodded and poked and speared with various injections (Holy. Crap. They want to take a wisdom tooth out), a pub liquid lunch at this time seems the perfect solution...

Which Bamba?

Bamba.

One of Israel's most popular munchies, probably the most popular snack amongst kids. Easy enough to say, even if you have yet to sprout a tooth or your Hebrew is limited to 'toda' (thanks) or 'shalom'...How can I describe them to somebody who hasn't a clue what I'm on about? Well, if you're a Brit, peanut flavoured Wotsits is about as good a description...yep, peanut flavoured. Interestingly enough, Bamba was first made in cheesy flavour, before moving over to the peanut.

I love Bamba. I'm not ashamed to admit it, and I think most Israelis (including those above the age of 4) also have a fondness for it. You'll always see it as a party snack or set out in its own little bowl when invited round to friends. The one thing that has confused me for some time is the reason for the two different packaging designs (I'm referring to the main snack that everybody knows, not the packs of strawberry flavoured - yes, strawberry, disgustingly sweet - or the fairly new breakfast cereal version), as shown here.



Whenever I go grocery shopping I have to buy both bags, since mrs. anglosaxy likes the blue bag and I prefer the orange. But isn't this supposed to be the same Bamba? Are Osem trying to kid us that the two designs cater to two different markets? Is the design with the cartoon baby supposed to appeal to kids? Because I haven't seen many 4 year olds pushing their trolley round Mega supermarket while checking their shopping list recently...

So for me it's the orange bag, it always seems to taste a little richer to me. The blue bags always end up tasting dryer...hands up anyone else out there who prefers the orange...[ stares blindly into www land ]

Knackered

Lying low with a little bit of flu, draining all my energy. This heat's a killer when you feel crap...

Did manage to polish off two books over the weekend; Ben Elton's 'Stark', which was OK I guess, just about passing as a beach read, and Stephen Foster's 'She stood there laughing', a valiant attempt to do a Nick Hornby, though hardly as inspiring since you are trying to get emotionally involved with a club like Stoke City. Yep, Stoke City...though I was engaged enough to plough through the whole book in less than a day. Now moving on to Michael Palin's 'Sahara' - his 'Around the world in 80 days' series on the BBC helped get my feet itching when I first thought about quitting Blighty's shores.

Just spoke with O on the phone, she is having a ball in India, she even has her own car and driver! Does she miss the corridor? Yeh, right, like a hole in the head.

Disturbing new development

Continuing Picture Week, Vol II, with something quite disturbing; I've recently spotted a whole batch of poster adverts going up in Tel Aviv, mainly in bus shelters (see below), and tempting us with a new perfume...I thought Israel had managed to escape its clutches, but it appears I'm wrong...



Burberry - the preferred choice of Britain's new ruling class.

Does this mean that chav (now there's a word that wasn't around when I lived in Blighty) culture will soon be upon us? Will we have to play 'spot the chav' and hear stories about Shimmy and Chiko being banned from the pub for wearing Burberry clothing...and here's what we might have to look forward to with the oncoming chav boom...

Anyone for setting up a Chav Patrol? You're going to have to wear one of these...

"It might be a little annoying..."

Last night's trip to the dentist (my last visit was in the last century) involved having my teeth cleaned. The dentist told me that it might be "a little annoying"... as she scraped and whizzed away inside my mouth, the occasional shot of pain ripping through my body, my body launched into its tense mode as my fingers gripped the chair, white knuckle style. I could feel trickles of sweat travelling all over my back (not really 'running down' since I was lying on my back). "Oooh, I have a lot of cleaning to do, you really must come to the dentist more often..."
If I can wait until the next century for my next visit, I will...

Off later for some English lessons. I have a new student who wants to 'talk'. Her English is great but she's extremely shy about speaking English in public. So, I suggested we go and sit in a coffee bar and have a beer or two and relax and just talk about anything she feels comfortable with...the beers are on her!

Picture Week, Vol II, continued

Buggar!!
I'm rewriting this because of Blogger's nice new 'feature' of failing to save as a draft...here we go again...

OK lads, I noticed a couple of blogs recently waxing lyrical, almost breathlessly, about the physical attributes of the male athletes in the Olympics. So, this being a blog of Male Power, I've decided to treat you to a sight that greets me nearly every morning as I drive into Tel Aviv: the exquisite Sandi Bar dominating the skyline, with half of her Milky dessert still on her upper lip (at least that's what I think it's supposed to be, but let's not delve into this too deeply...). She's been at it every day for the last few weeks, that svelte body of hers must surely be piling on the pounds...

As I join the Ayalon freeway every morning, there she is in the distance. Can anyone spot her?



Ahhh, there she is...



How come she was never around when I used to work in this building? Damn shame...



By the way, the Hebrew says: "Don't leave him alone"...

The stars are out

A couple of evening shots for you, taken from the corridor roof. Not the greatest quality I'll admit, but I love the clouds...

I've just come back from Kai in Ramat Ha'Hayal, wolfed down some of the tastiest sushi I've ever had, amazing...

Quick Interjection

Picture Week is on hold for a few hours, hopefully later tonight I'll have a new posting.

Nasty business in Beer Sheva yesterday, and you can read Israeli blogger reaction to it here and here...

Fortunately not quite as nasty, but still pretty depressing, it's back to the corridor today after an 8 day siesta. As many of you are aware, us Brits hate returning to work after a holiday...

Should I mention the Roonster's move to Manure United? Should Arsenal be worried? Not in the slightest...the right move for England though.

And is anyone else out there getting addicted to 'Escape to the country' on BBC Prime? I'm missing those quaint little villages, those polite manners (well, not missing them that much) and, as every Israeli points out, the sheep in the fields...can't believe those prices though...