Bar Refaeli's Wedding Remains a Distant Glimmer for Desperate Reporters

Stony security guy guarding road leading to supermodel's wedding is unmoved by pleas made by throng of reporters, who, to pass the time, start interviewing each other.

Rami Shllush

The media was out in force Thursday night in the hopes of getting a glimpse of model Bar Refaeli’s wedding to businessman Adi Ezra.

Along with a handful of curious spectators, they thronged the barriers at the side of the winding road through the Carmel that led to the wedding site.

“She couldn’t have gotten married at the Tel Aviv Port?” one onlooker groused.

Several reporters gathered by a giant bush, near which an unmanned helicopter was parked. Far above in the stretch of sky closed for all other aircraft by a Civil Aviation Authority order, a hot-air balloon was floating, most likely to get footage of the wedding from the vantage point it deserved. A few gliders could also be spotted, but police were quick to order the operators to ground them.

To pass the time, some reporters began interviewing each other about the way the media was covering the affair.

But the television crews were temporarily diverted when a man approached one of the security guards and cried in anguish, “I’m Oded Moyal, the country’s public relations man! You have to let me in for one photograph with Bar, just one!”

“I have two things to tell you,” the guard answered. “First, that isn’t my responsibility, and second, good luck!”

Moyal wouldn’t give up. “Just one photo,” he pleaded. “Facebook is hungry. The people are hungry.” But the guard remained unmoved.

“Are they paying you a risk premium?” I asked the guard. 

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he replied. “Earlier, there were two men who tried to run toward the helicopter as it was taking off. I stopped them, and one of them tried to come to blows with me.”

When I remarked on how calm he seemed, he responded, “I work outdoor parties; I’m used to it.” Later on I found out that one of the paparazzi was beaten up by security guards and was taken to a hospital. 

As I left the journalists’ enclosure, I could hear vocalist Shlomi Shabat singing “Bereshit Olam” far off in the distance. Apparently, something important was happening inside.