Day 82, From an Israeli Prison, Part 2

After my stay in Tel Aviv I head north through Haifa up to the Lebanese border.  My interest in borders comes from my  interest in history and a lack of borders in my home country.  I am told the border with Lebanon is closed, which is true for me.  There is a functioning gate on both sides which is probably opened under extreme circumstances.  I follow the border east until I end up in a set of houses that look much like any suburban development in the states, except for the view of the high fences on the hill a few hundred feet away.

My prison looms ahead. The border was a warning, my interest in it beyond logic.  I should have headed for home, but I wasn't that smart.  Yet.  But as I found out later, I am teachable.  Slow to learn, but teachable.

At the rocky short by the border are these marmot-looking fuzzballs.  They know nothing about national boundaries.  Call them stateless, they don't care.

 Israeli gunboats on patrol near the border.

A closed tunnel for a road connecting Lebanon and Israel built by the British after WW1

Looking inside the tunnel. Secret Israeli weapons storage.