I mentioned briefly that I went to the Western Wall in Israel. The guy I met there was kind enough to show me around town, and at night. This is it, he said, the holiest site in the Jewish religion. THere were (as we were divided by gender) women where I was jerking their heads, sort of, and crying, and walking backwards (which I hadn't heard of) and this one who was crying, I wondered why, but I guess I'll never know. I can pick up on people's pain and emotional junk pretty well; I get mad at certain people but I don't enjoy seeing suffering. I guess looking back it's a little freaky how in the middle of the night I arrived at the one of the world's holy sites, sort of spontaneously.
In Giza when I was riding a horse around the Pyramids in the sand were corpses of camels and horses, really their skeletons. No one bothered to collect them.
The bus ride through Israel was covering more desert than anything, and I wondered why in such a small country so little space was occupied, especially since the land is being fought over. Just a thought.

To those I met, I hope you're there, I hope you read this. And you know who you are. I hope you were honest with me, and that you're good. Because the Israeli police asked about you and I said that you are. They don't know your full name, and neither do I. I'll leave the name out but he knows who he is: maybe some day you'll let this go, what went on between us. But what else did you expect?