"DO YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS OR FAMILY IN ISRAEL!?"

The booked taxi never arrived, i waited in the heat for half an hour. In the end I had to pay another 250 shekels for a private taxi to Telaviv airport, that's about £60. I arrived an hour later, at the beginning of my journey i was already running one hour late.

Passport checked at terminal 3 by a 19 yr old boy.

Wrong terminal. Got shuttle buss to terminal 1, passport checked and questioned by an other 19yr old boy.

Waited in line for luggage security check before being able to check in, passport and ticket checked by two separate ladies in there early 20's, questioned and asked for further ID by the second, i produced my drivers license, the picture of which is a good 10 years old, and identical to that on my passport.

Bags scanned and had to wait in a second line.

Bags searched. Both completely emptied, questioned, passport and ticket checked by another young lady in her early 20's. She didn't seem to notice the stacks of Palestinian literature i had accumulated over the past week and a half, however did ask why i had bought this specific Palestinian scarf, 

"mine shrank in the wash" i replied. She smiled whilst simultaneously up to her elbows in my dirty dust and sweat encrusted laundry.

Got to check in, questioned, passport checked, ticket accepted.

Moved to passport control, passport checked by another 20yr old man BEFORE arriving at passport control.

Passport control, passport and ticket checked. The lady behind the window (mid twenties with make up thick enough to stop a bullet) looked at me, looked at her colleague, looked at the computer, looked at me again...."stand over there!" she pointed to an empty Que with her 2 inch long fingernail.

Questioned by head of terminal security, a short lady with large heals in her late 20s.

Passport and ticket checked,

"Sit over there" she pointed to a row of plastic chairs, 

"You can leave your bag with me" a security guard replied to my glance, with his hand on the pistol strapped to his leg.

Questioned about my family, 

"Fathers name?"

"Paul"

"Fathers Fathers name" she commanded, 

"Ernie" i replied clearly. Wondering if he had ever been caught up in some anti Israeli activities, maybe in his life long time with the well know subversive, anti governmental organization, The Salvation Army.

"ERNIEEEE?" The head of security scrunched her entire face up trying to pronounce the name of the greatest sesame street puppet Jim Henderson had ever slipped his hand in. She obviously had a deprived childhood, void of the pleasures of Bert and Ernie and their rubber duck.  

"Yes his name is Ernie" I smiled. 

Passport and ticket checked. Bag scanned again, me scanned, passport checked again. 

Questioned on my activity in Israel. 

"I'm a back packer visiting old Jerusalem, to see the sites..." I chimed of, trying not to show signs of prior rehearsal.

"Why Jerusalem... why the Old city?" The lady was getting aggravated. I must of been giving the wrong answers, and the idea that a young man traveling on his own, to see a city he had never been to before, just for a few days seemed enough for her to suspect me of underhanded activities.

"WHY THE OLD CITY!"

"Because its really old?" my coy answer must of worked, she changed tactics.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS OR FAMILY IN ISRAEL!?" 

"Nope!"

"ARE YOU SHORE YOU DO NOT HAVE ANY FRIENDS OR FAMILY IN ISRAEL!?" As if i could of possibly of forgotten.....

"Yes!"  

"SIR, YOU DO REALIZE I AM HEAD OF THIS TERMINALS SECURITY, DO YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS OR FAMILY IN ISRAEL? HAVE YOU BEEN WORKING IN ISRAEL? HAVE YOU BEEN VOLUNTEERING FOR ANY ORGANIZATIONS IN ISRAEL!?" 

I lied,

"I have no family in Israel and i haven't made any friends, i was just seeing the sites"  

I Lied to an official, to a group of officials, WITH GUNS!..... it felt good.

She gave up on the loud firm approach.

"Have you lived anywhere other than the UK in the last 10 years" she asked with a smile whilst pointing to a dutch workers permit stamped into my passport.

"Yes i worked an lived in an international youth hostel in Amsterdam about 7 years ago" i squinted trying to remember the dates anticipating the next question.

"How long where you there?"

"About 8 months i think....? it was 7 years ago!" i couldn't remember of the top of my head and didn't want to start counting fingers.

"No pay?!"

"Yes that's right, a volunteer, i got bed and board".

She got bored and i was released.

Back to passport control. Ushered through to Luggage check. Passport and ticket checked again by another young man with apologetic smile (having witnessed portions of my "interview"). Bag unpacked and scanned, me scanned and patted down, he seemed interested in my cameras.

"Sorry about this, its just procedure, enjoy your flight!" we parted,

"That's OK, jobs a job right! Is there any more security?" I wasn't sure how much more i could take of this with a smile on my face.

"I don't know but your flights from terminal 3, your in terminal 1, you need to catch a buss back to departures" !!!!!!!!!!!!

Packed all my hand luggage back in and ran to catch second buss back to terminal 1. There was a general consensus of the conversations i eaves dropped on that this whole system was out of order. In an manner that led me to half expect some one, some where on the buss to come out with the scoffing put down remark "This just isn't British!". I wanted to condole them all, this was normal and not a personal attack on the up standing citizens who use Easy jet flights, but i was still wary after my questioning.

Terminal 1. Passport and ticket checked by another lady in her early 20's and the group of us where escorted in to the departures lounge..... flight was running late due to freezing conditions in London other wise i would of missed it. 

After all their security, passport and ticket checking, computers and scanners they failed to notice that one of the Easy jet passengers a Jewish gentleman in long coat and Kipur was traveling on a ticket for the following day. Every single person who checked his ticket until the actual boarding staff of  the flight, had obviously failed to check the date! This amazed me considering its near impossible for me to blag one stop on a welsh train, on an out of date ticket with out being caught any more. 

The lady sat next to me on the flight had almost got refused her seat because they had already let this man on and there wouldn't be enough seats.

"I saw you where having some problems with the security, is it because of your cameras?" she smiled. "yeah, i guess its something like that" I didn't want to share to much in case she was another part of the Israeli airport security, after all she was an attractive lady in her early 20's just like the rest of them. 

The flight took off. 5 hours, one book and a bag of nuts latter, we landed with a skid at Luton. Picked up luggage, moved to passport check. A lady, in her twenties behind the window,

"How was your flight?"smiling whilst checking my documents.

I couldn't speak.

"Welcome back", she handed me my passport.

20 minutes later i was on a buss into London, it was bellow freezing. No more check points, no more passport control, no more young attractive ladies asking for my details. I never had so much condensed female attention in my life, all seemingly unwilling for me to leave the country, trying to find a reason to keep me from getting on the plane. A part of me will miss it, most of me wont.