The waiting game - day 10

Today I went to apply for an Israeli press card. I hailed a taxi and asked it to go to the address on the website. It turns out the address is for the head office, not the one journalists are meant to go to. The head office happens to be the fortress-like Prime Minister's Office. The barricade before the entrance is surrounded by three or four big security guards with very big machine guns. Needless to say I was stopped and my belongings searched. A guy delivering some take away food was also asked to stop and prove the contents of his delivery were high in carbohydrates and saturated fats and low in explosives. Eventually a very diminutive but helpful woman arrived and explained where I had to go. It was the prefect kodak moment but alas I couldn't exactly draw my camera out.

I suspect I won't get the pass. My sponsor isn't a large enough media outlet and my most recent piece for them is a pretty damning critique of Israeli society. If I don't get it it basically means I can't get into Gaza. To be honest, if that happens, I'll be pretty disappointed.

[A photo taken on my daily walk back up the hill away from the old city heading south east. In the distance you can see the separation wall that keeps all those terrorist Palestinians out]