The cruise to the Earth’s end
<p>I was riding a rented scooter on Eliat Street, few blocks from the Telavivian Gallery, glancing at the lifeless store windows. I wasn’t wearing a helmet and the dry wind whipped across my face. The lane was free, with no traffic. It felt like Sunday morning. The last time I checked the calendar, it was still Thursday. Without pedestrians or sellers, the street looked like a desert. Maybe because we were in the desert. That gathering of concrete and glass, with some sparse trees and few parked cars, was a mere facade. The arid and lonely atmosphere struck me, but the idea of shortly reaching the Jaffa seashore brought me some relief.</p>
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