Left at 05:30 a.m. - because I don't like walking in the dark. After the 'regular' walk towards Shuk HaCarmel I decided to have a look at the grafiti in Shenkin, 'our' yuppie paradise, to see if there was any interesting graffiti there - which there was not really. I liked the "Inspire" one though - but that one you can see all over town... so.

Then I set out on a "house" seeing tour but probably took some wrong turns because I crossed a huge industry-terrain. However, I ended up in Jaffa and took some photos of houses - which mostly are dumps. One of the photos is such a house and it's for sale: 1 shop and 3 rooms... Wonder what they ask for it...Only closer to the sea houses started to look better. Still, when crossing one terribly reeking alley I noticed a writing on the wall of the house that explained exactly why the smell was so bad in that alley :D

I had walked some 5 hours constantly and dying for coffee and water - but... I didn't see any coffee shops and the one I had hoped I could finally sit down with some - was closed. And thus I sat down at the Jaffa's port near the water and when I looked down I saw like hundreds of little and not so little fish. Mesmerizing performance these little creatures were giving while the sun played along.

I then undertook the walk to the Carmelit busstation (being thirsty so not particularly feeling ayayay) - I finally saw a macolet and when I entered the girl behind the counter asked "So, did they find bodies?" Huhhhhh???? She saw my surprise and explained that the people working in that street on road construction had said there was a cemetery there and bodies were supposed to be found.... OMG: a street (street 920 in Jaffa) where people lived for ages and cars were driving over the road a cemetery was located underneath? And indeed I saw many, many people sitting on their knees sifting sand and filling bags with it.
The poor girl of the macolet was totally freaked out btw. I also find it a weird thought.


Photos of the above hereunder. The last photo showing Street 920. . .