I step off the bus but the ground is still wobbly. Lights, text, and people are not quiet in focus, but I can still recognize a massive crowe in front of me. I hear the pick up times behind me, yet I don’t catch the actual time. Someone is yelling in front of me, but I don't distinguishing the foreign words. I see a kid in a backwards hat handing out post-its. Driven by unconscious instinct extend my hand towards him. In the swarm hands he chooses mine and places a post-it in my palm. It only says "DJ Tiesto 6-1-2001" (In countries other than US, month is written after the day). I fold it and place it in my pocket and continue to observe the growing crowd. Moments later someone gets a hold of my hand and a snake of people crawls through the crowed to the front. A guard looks me over and signals for me to go in.
I’m inside; it’s empty, only a few couples are out on the dance floor taking advantage of all the room. Dancing room that will no longer exist in the very near future. I walk up stairs and reach a room separated by walls and rails instead of windows. There I present my Jacket and keep going, exploring the rest of the club. Without the need to go down the stairs, I keep going on the walkway that surrounds the club. A bar is conveniently placed on this walkway, where I get a beer and socialize with my fellow travelers. In the meantime more and more are rushing inside. The music is picking up and I’m getting buzzed.
I walk down the stairs and find three more bars. One resembles a stretched limo with tinted windows and glass doors, separating it from the commotion of the dance floor. I get up the stairs and find another chill room made up of huge soft leather mattresses that act as sofas, chairs, and tables at the same time. Lighting is provided by only a couple lit up display cases, giving plenty of privacy. Tinted windows give a Birdseye view at the new arrivals down on the dance floor; I leave this chill out/make out room for the fun action downstairs.
In the main/trance room there is a huge square floor with a stage at one end, a DJ booth at the other, bars to the sides, and is filled with dancing Gods and Goddesses. Their bodies are so perfect that I could call them nothing but that. Obviously the guards are smart about who to let in and who to keep out. The vibe picks up and beautiful women surround me. They make out with handsome guys and without a word switch partners.
The music is blasting, I can’t think. I can’t decide, do I keep dancing, do I take pictures, or just pass out from the euphoria of it all, and then with a loud bang confetti dropps from the ceiling. It hits me; I am in Jerusalem, in club Hoaman17, dancing to the music that DJ Tiesto is spinning, "how incredible" I gasp, I drop my camera, leave my jacket, all my cares, and dance.
The bus and my companions have left, but that doesn’t matter. RaveOn makes no exception, even in Jerusalem, we dance until the party is over. Fortunately and unfortunately for me, is one of those cities where the party never stops, and I really felt that in my numb legs on the plane.