Tel Aviv

Sitting at a small pizza restaurant, on level with the street, large see through windows instead of walls, we are a tiny, colourful, luminescent cell of life in the middle of an ocean of night and wind.
The place is packed, eclectic electronic music is being played at an almost unbearable volume. People are bunching up in front of the ordering counter, the tables and each other. We are all a warm, happy, pizza eating family of sardines packed tightly in a can. The close proximity forces conversation with strangers about life experiences and impressions. Despite the weather and the hour, pedestrians buzz past the window-walls, some burying their chins deep in scarves, others shivering in summer dresses.
Soon we will leave the warmth of this place for the chill of the night streets of tel aviv, this sleepy summer city that's entertaining an unexpected winter guest. I'll breathe in the rich smells of beer, exhaust fumes, cigarette smoke and the different foods being offered at streetside venues and smile. Even when drowsy, this city is more alive than any other I've ever visited. Loud graffiti art will scream slogans at me as I walk past. I am home.