Dateline: 23/02/06
We were leaving on the 'Red Eye' flight to Tel Aviv from Stansted airport. The departure time was 22:50, but we had to check in three and a half hours before hand, so that meant I had to get across London to pick up Aba at 18:00 and then drive to the airport.
Due to the pick up and travelling times being during the 'Rush Hour', so I had to get to Aba early to avoid the gridlock.
As I was driving down to where Aba lives I passed his car outside a shop. So I turned round and went back to investigate as it was strange to see Aba's car away from his house at that time of the afternoon. Just as I parked up across the road from it I see a surprised Aba coming out of the shop "What it's now we're leaving Blood?" He said as he came across to me.
I explained that the only reason I was in the area so early was to avoid the traffic and I had a couple of little errands to run; that's when I saw his car and thought I had better check it out as 'Inna De Ghetto' nuff thief deh bout, You know!

I left Aba and went to go to the post office, as I had to post a lot of packages to various parts of the world.
I parked up my car and then went to the main post office on Kingsland Road. I posted the stuff and I had 2 hours before I had to pick up Aba, so I went for a walk in the direction of Ridley Road market. It's been a long time since I have been able to trod down the market.

As I was walking along I thought I heard a voice behind me softly call my name, being the level headed, right thinking man of the streets, I ignored it. Then I heard it again but this time it was louder, but still soft. Also due to this government's continuation of the travesty that is the so-called 'Care In The Community' nuff mad people deh ah road, Rasta and you never know what kind of actions dem poor tormented people are going to come with; so I ignored it again. Plus there is nuff man pan de street with my christen name.
Then someone tapped me on my shoulder and I turned round swiftly fully prepared to defend my self, only to come face to face with someone I have not seen in over 25 years. "Are you Michael?" she asked. I replied, "Yes Hyacinth, I am".
She said she knew it was me as she spotted the way that I looked and the way that I walked from way up the street and had been following me waiting for me to turn round, and knew that it could only be one person, me.
The look of totally disbelief on her face as she said you have not changed was a sight to behold.
We chatted for a few minutes as her mother kept calling her on her mobile to ask where she was, as she was expecting her long time. As we parted I thought to myself Bwoy, tings and times, isn't life strange. How people that you once knew in the distant past suddenly resurface in the most unexpected places and times. The reason she was not at work was she was ill.
For normally she would not be about the street at that time, she would be in her place of employment and the only reason I was there was due to flying off to Israel later that night.
So to 'Flower', guidance along your way sister and nice to see you are in good health.

I picked Aba at the allotted time and we made our way to the airport.
We arrive in the terminal after parking the car and waited for the flight-checking desk to come on the electronic board.
When it was put up on the board we went to go and join the queue.
'EL AL' is the most security conscious airline in the world and for good reason, due to the Arab-Israeli situation.
So it was no surprised to see all the armed police officers and security personnel in and around the desk.

As we were waiting for the queue to progress a young lady came up to us and asked if she could say that she was with us as she was overweight on her luggage and were travelling light.
Were we of assistance to this damsel in distress? Wah you mad, you think in this day and age with all the craziness, we were going to allow someone who we don't know, with whatever in the huge holdall that she had, come and link up with us.
We have enough problems getting through immigration and customs, me looking like an Arab/Ethiopian/Somali freedom fighter and Aba like a demented 'Man Inna De Hills'.
The first questions they ask you are:
"Is this your bag?" "Did you pack this bag yourself?" Has the bag been in your possession since being packed?"
"Did anyone give you anything to carry?" "Are you travelling together?"…………………..etc.
So no, the age of chivalry has passed and so we declined.
When it was our turn to be questioned by the security people they split Aba and I up and then compared the answers to our questions. We didn't mind the security aspect, as it is in place for our safety, and so we answered all the questions and I provide the documentation and we were allowed to the desk to check in and then to the departure gate.
As we were waiting for the boarding to start I heard Aba and mine names called out. I went to the security to see what the problem was. They wanted Aba and myself to accompany them, no not inna dub plate stylee. So I went and got Aba and off we went down the stairs with two security personnel, one male, and one female.
"What is the problem?" I asked? "No problem" was the reply. As if taking us out of the departure lounge with all the other passengers watching these two people who are darker than blue being escorted away, was not a problem.
I could just read the expressions on their faces as we descended out of view.
We were taken on a long and winding trip to a corridor where we saw four other passengers on our flight standing outside a door.
So it wasn't a black thing then as these passengers were white.
Aba and I knew what the problem was; it was the dubplate. They give off a petroleum odour mixed with other chemicals and so the sniffers will flag the case as needing further investigation.
Yup we were right it was the dub plates. After getting Aba to verify it was his case, our hand luggage was retested.
This test proved negative and so we were led directly to the plane and were in front of the hatch waiting to board when the rest of the passengers came rushing down to board the plane. The looks on the faces of the passengers who now thought we were something special as we had been escorted not as they thought to the cells, but to the plane. Nuff mutterings in Yiddish and nods and glances.
But our trials and tribulations with Israeli officialdom were not over yet.

Dateline: 24/02/05 Venue: Ein Harod Kibbutz.Israel.
The flight to Israel was uneventful as I just slept for most of the 5 hours.
When we got off the plane and went to immigration control that's when things crumbled.
I presented my passport and documents including the letter of invitation and copy of work permit, only to have the very inept, continually yawning, rude girl at the counter keep asking me for the very same information I had already given her, example…
"Where is your passport?" "What, you mean the one you have in your hands". "Work Permit?" Same answer.
This went on for every question she asked. "What are you doing here in Israel?" "We have come to play some shows."
"Do you permission to play these shows?" "Well the work permit is the permission." "Where is your work permit?" etc.
This went on so long that apart from Aba and myself all the other passengers had cleared immigration.
Her colleague came over to see what the problem was and then another joined her in the booth and they realised that we had all the right credentials, but by now a senior immigration officer/police woman had came out from an office behind us and was walking over to us. She took our passports and documents and walked back into the office asking us for us to follow her.
She asked us to sit down on some chairs just outside and to the left of the office door.
Five minutes later she returned with our passports stamped with a 3 months visa. "Where are you playing?" she asked.
I answered "A kibbutz in Harod". She smiled and nodded and said "Very beautiful place, enjoy."
We were escorted to baggage reclaim by a very nice immigration officer, when we got into the baggage hall was no one there, just Aba's lone bag going round the carousel.
When I looked back I could see the surly immigration girl coming out of the office with her head hanging down.
I wonder if she got bitch slapped, hope so, because during the merry go round she gave me I was nearing telling her which part of a heavily diseased, one eyed, bandy legged, dromedary she had been ejected from, and that one of the more gentler missives I had to say.
I know one is supposed to leave vengeance unto the Lord, but sometimes he needs a little help. Just check David and Goliath.

We collected the bag and went through the door into Israel. where Guil Rasta the promoter met us.
The whole saga had taken 32 minutes.
Local time 07:54

We drove straight to the 'Ein Harod Kibbutz', which was an hour and a half's drive from Tel Aviv and chatted about the pending session, the general history of this 'Ein Harod Kibbutz' and how we came to be booked to play there.
As we drove Guil pointed to the wall and emplacements on our right hand side, which was the Palestinian West Bank, and on our left, Israel. The road we were travelling on was actually the dividing line between the two.

We arrived at the Ein Harod Kibbutz and as the immigration officer had promised, it was a beautiful location.
The kibbutz is in a valley and the Gilboa Mountains are in front of it and behind in the distance is the high ground on which Nazareth stands.
We were met by representatives of the kibbutz and shown to the club area where we going to play. The reinforcement PA system was being loaded in at 16:00 and would be up and running by 19:00.
The kibbutz runs a monthly event called 'Poetry In Motion' and this was we were playing with warm up by Radio 106.1 DJ Yigal.

After checking out the venue the members of the organising committee wanted to take us on a little sight seeing tour of the area. So off we went to visit 'Gideon's spring' and to scale (by car) the Gilboa Mountains. A running commentary was provided by the kibbutz members of the history of the area and its significants in the Bible.
Jahovah ordered Gideon to reduce his already small army before going to fight the 'Battle of Armageddon', the location of which is now a prison and is about 6km from the kibbutz. Guil told me that they have found great antiquities there while laying new underground pipes, so now the prisoners are used to excavate the grounds of the prison to unearth more of these finds
Quick Synopsis:
Gideon's spring is where Gideon's army were selected. The army were told to drink from the spring and those that placed their swords on the ground were not selected for battle. Those that kept one hand on the swords as they drank were chosen for battle.

We left the spring and went to go the top of the mountain but due to an annual event called the 'The 10km March' we were unable to get right to the top so we settled on going to the restaurant which is nearly at the top, and having a meal there.
This next statement will come as a great shock to those that know me well; the 'Waldorf ' salad was amazing. I say again the 'Waldorf ' salad was amazing. I had it with the fresh baked olive bread and it was slamming. The reason that this statement is so unexpected is that I am not known for eating rabbit food. I relish 'The Ites' red, gold and green in most things except food, so it is as rare as the wicked entering Zion to find green vegetables or salad on my dinner plate, unless they happen to be on the print design.
Well after being well fed and feeling satisfied, we left the restaurant and made our way back to the kibbutz.
The PA was arriving at 16:00 so with time to spare we decided to go the hotel to freshen up and chill, returning at 19:00 to do the sound check. The hotel we were told was 20 minutes away, so we set off for the hotel.
After 45 minutes of driving, following the Jordan River, we still had not reached the hotel. I have mentioned in these pages before how promoters and their interpretation of time and travel is just that. You have to be a time traveller to be able to meet the time specified by the promoters to the actual distance you have to travel to reach your hotel. But this one was really stretching 'Einstein's Theory Of Relativity'.
We went through an army checkpoint, but that didn't mean anything to me, but it would later.

Eventually we arrived at the hotel and Guil went in to book us in. I looked around at the complex and remarked that it looked like an army barracks. Guil came back from the reception stifling his laughter. This was not a good sign.
"Rasta, you and Aba have the log cabins," he said as he handed me the keys.
"What log cabins are these then" I asked? Guil pointed to what looked like sheds about 300 metres away.
Confidence was at an all to time low by now.
"Come Rasta lets check them out and if they are not good, we call the promoter and he will have to put us in another hotel" Guil continued.
We drove up the dusty road to where the first cabin was and the caretaker let us in. I walked into the cabin and all of us were shocked by what we saw.
Dread the place, the place; if I tell you about this place, the place was wicked, me ah tell you. They were not much to look at from the outside but there were criss on the inside. The cabin consisted of a dining room/lounge area with kitchen and leading off from that a toilet and shower and a large separate bedroom. They were Swiss chalet style. lodges.
We then went to the other cabin and that was even nicer. Aba took this cabin and I took the first one. Guil was staying in the main block.
We arranged to meet up at 18:45 and to make our way back to the venue to do the sound check.

I had a shower and because it was such a warm and beautiful day I went for a walk around the compound. I passed this building that had very rough walls with what looked like very badly done staccato rendering, but outside it had a beautifully constructed swimming pool. Even in Israel you can't get good tradesman, I thought to myself as I checked the rest of the buildings. For they all had very rough walls with the same staccato patterning.
I took some pictures of the area and went back to my cabin to rest.

I was awake and dressed when Guil came and knocked on my door and we both went and got Aba.
It was getting dark as we drove back to the kibbutz, so with music playing and a warm breeze, I closed my eyes and as Doby Gray sang in his most famous song, I drifted away.

We arrived back at the kibbutz and as we walked passed, by and through the children of the kibbutz happily playing, while older members of the community kept a watchful eye. It was so nice to see children playing as children and not trying to act as if they were adults. A nice balanced environment produces in most cases a nice balanced individual.
We entered the club as the final stages of the setting up of the PA were being done. Aba and I greeted the assembled and hailed up bredrins Robbie, DJ Igal and Natty Culture.
As we clambered upon the stage an obvious problem came to light, the stage was live.
A live stage to the uninitiated is one where it is not vibration proof. Meaning that any movement affects the decks and this will lead to all kinds of feedback problems.
This was fixed by relocating the platform the desks and mixers were on to the solid floor, isolating the legs from the floor using a combination of plastic milk crates and flight case tops. It was a 'Most excellent' solution (Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure).

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