…or at least, 24 hours of comfortable R&R.
Last week the huz and I snuck away for an overnight at a hotel on the beach in Ashkelon… since Bubbe is in town.
Well, come on; it’s not all luna parks and kassams:
Last weekend, we took some R&R out in the dry heat and salt water of the Dead Sea. A vacation in the Dead Sea is really a vacation by an enormous hotel pool, with occasional dips in the oily, salty, burning sensation that is the Dead Sea.
This, however, is less about the Dead Sea and more about the road to the Dead Sea… I forget every time I go how freakin’ cool the highway to the Dead Sea is.
You leave Jerusalem heading towards Maale Adumim… I’ve always though of Maale Adumim as “the other Gush” (as far as proximity and relationship to Jerusalem). But actually, it couldn’t be far from it in terms of the ecology. As soon as you pass through the machsom (border control) the scenery completely changes to barren, dry hills and a desert existence.
You also feel the temperature change pretty quickly, if you dare to open your windows.
There’s one part of the drive where you pass rows and rows of palm trees on a date farm. I love this part.
This was a little random: a Native American statue climbing a flagpole towards the Australian flag. Whatever.
Ok, some Dead Sea photos too… A greener part of the Dead Sea.
A classic Dead Sea view. Those are the Jordanian mountains in the background.
Not many people know just how far my imagination goes or how morbid and crazy I can be. With that said, I would like to introduce you to one of the freakiest, creepiest things about Israel for me:
The teleport at Emek Ha’ela - a valley about five minutes outside of Beit Shemesh - completely creeps me out. I have driven past it three times now since moving to Tzur, on my way towards the south.
Giant man-made structures have always freaked me out - the Eiffel Tower, the World Trade Center, bridges of all kinds… And these so-called satellites are not only no exception, but possibly the worst I’ve ever encountered.
What do you mean, why? Alien transmissions are lasering at me while I drive past these freakishly giant structures. One day these things are going to start walking around. Doesn’t that bother anyone else?
There they are, just chilling without any warning… so close to where humans reside. Imagine living with that view, of the alien transmissions every day? Kill me.
There are the little baby ones next to the momma… *shudder*
A side-view. Nightmares coming true. Anyone see War of the Worlds?
I hate Steven Spielberg.
The area of the Tel Aviv port - נמל תל אביב - (right before Beach Mezizim) is one of those situations where ugly warehouses went for cheap rent, so trendy designers and cafes opened shop and now all the trendy wendys go out there a beautiful day to shop, eat, chat, ponder life, and whatever else a trendy wendy does. At least, that’s my theory, anyway.
One Friday we sort of walked into it by accident, but after strolling around we realized it would be the perfect place to take our ‘posher’ friends next time they come visit.
Warehouses can be beautiful.
Sip cappuccino with this view.
A shady view.
The streets are paved with gold tiles.
I’m not sure when it’s ok for kids to start drinking coffee, but the Aroma at the port has it’s own kids section with Aroma play house. Never to early to start working a cash register.
Last night, I completely forgot it was the evening of Yom Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Day). If I had remembered, I might have at least considered going down to the Old City to pay my respects and tributes.
What is it about modern Jerusalem that makes it so easy to forget? Is it the modernity in it? Is it the politics? The imperfection?
Part of it for me is the political implications. Sure, 41 years ago today, Jerusalem was ‘reunited’ - on paper. In some of our hearts. In some of our minds.
Part of it for me is the general apathy. The municipality tries to make the city more attractive, tries to find the bridge between ancient and holy, and modern and successful. It’s not working though. People are leaving. The city is becoming more Charedi, Arab and touristy.
Part of it for me is the letdown. For the first 12 years of my life Jerusalem was a holy city, untouched by rubbish. When I visited here for the first time, I was severely disappointed. Blame the high expectations on my diaspora yeshiva education, on my enthusiastic tefillot, on my imagination, but the fact is - it’s just not even close to the Jerusalem I thought I was supposed to long for.
I suppose the main thing about a reunited Jerusalem of 41 years is the attainment of the Old City. Maybe later I will go down and there and say a word or two. Or maybe I won’t.
Spent the afternoon walking around Tel Aviv. It was the first time I noticed that the flags are out for flag season, or Yom Haatzmaut, which is going down next Wednesday evening-Thursday. It’s Israel’s 60th anniversary this time, so it’s actually more than just personal flags - storefronts, advertisements and highways are more decorated than usual.
Ibn Gibrol Street in central Tel Aviv
Tel Aviv municipality
Private residence
Steimatsky book store
Bank Hapoalim
Bank Hapoalim
Elite chocolate
Kikar Rabin preparations
Caesarea is one of those Israeli cities that, when coming up in conversation, everyone nods their heads and says, “Oh yes, beautiful place, I’d like to get back there one of these days.”
After hearing that for over three years, I decided it was time. We took a day of our chol hamoed and drove up to the coastal city, leftovers of what was once a Herodian entertainment center.
Part of the intrigue was the famous aqueduct built there by the Romans. Here’s what websites have up, beckoning you to come see the magic in person:
Because it’s a historic site, I figured the photos would be true to the reality (or is that the other way around?) but I seemed to have forgotten where I live and who my country men are… Because this is what we found:
Despair not, however; Caesarea is still a beautiful city resembling a giant golf resort with mansions surrounding… After all, the aqueduct beach is the only free area in the city, so, you know.
The old city, which is reminiscent of Yaffo and Akko, was worth a walk in the 40 degree sun:
This is one of those moments when something really good happened and I have to share it with everyone I know. In marketing, we call that a sale.
Last night I spent my time rolling around in bed and puking my brains out. Not really how I had wanted to spend my Sunday evening, but, sometimes that’s the way it’s gotta be.
Today (at godawfully early in the morning) we made an appointment for the medical clinic up the block, which apparently has a good reputation, even outside of Tsur Hadassah. It takes all four kupot (socialized health insurance companies), they do lab testing and the clinic is freshly painted and decorated like it’s an interior designer’s office. Woo!
But the thing I was most amazed with was how incredibly nice, smart, friendly, human our doctor was. The man has never met us in his life, but after a few minutes of chatting (and asking all the right questions and more) he was doling out advice (unrelated to my sickness) and his cell phone number. He was actually paying attention to details and taking the time to explain how the clinic works and to welcome us.
Sounds like I have a crush, but honestly - when was the last time a doctor was so nice to you? In the States I found that all the good quality doctors were assholes and here, whether they are good or not, they are just cold. Maybe it’s just city kupot doctors.
Or maybe this guy is Anglo, been living in Tzur Hadassah for 15 years, loves his job and sees himself in a young Anglo married couple fresh off the boat to Tzur.
I needed a sanity check and a little dose of big city, so we drove to Tel Aviv today, parked in the free city-sponsored parking by the Yarkon and then walked through the city for a few hours.
It doesn’t take long before you realize that Tel Aviv has its own brand of humor that Jerusalem clearly lacks. For a long time I had been resistant to Tel Aviv, possibly because the commute is a pain. Lately I’ve been a lot more at ease with the city and viewing it with much the same attitude as I view Manhattan.
Here’s what I mean by sense of humor. The first big advertisement we saw, walking across the Yarkon on Ibn Givrol was this:
Hot guy leading a blind guy wearing trendy clothes? For real? My husband remarked no one can really get offended by it since the blind can’t see it anyway…
To make up for that awkwardness, I did find a cute marketing campaign on the part of a mobile-veterinary service:
It’s called “Mistove-vet”, mistovev meaning to go around and vet, well, you know.
Continuing on our way, I was taken by this little contraption and it’s slogan:
Protect your bananas, people. Now there’s a priority.
Even the cats in Tel Aviv are cooler than Jerusalem’s:
On top of the fact that every wall in Tel Aviv is cause for a mural painting, I got a kick out of the oddness at seeing Syria listed as a destination here:
Tel Aviv is home to way more dog owners than Jerusalem, and it shows. The municipality seems to have it’s - er - shit together:
If you can read Hebrew, then you know what that is: Saki-Kaki, plastic bags to pick up after your dog. Gotta love that.
This is something you are definitely only going to see in a Tel Aviv park… until the Future hits. Rentable Segways, people:
I’ll end off with something pretty, but in its own way, carrying the brand of Tel Aviv humor… Check out the chilled out boats for rent on the Yarkon:
In an effort to clear the mind and explore new territory, we ventured into one of the 726548724 hiking trails around Tzur Hadassah in the Judean Hills this afternoon. It was a small park leading into the ‘backyard’ of a tiny yishuv called Nes Harim, which itself offers a cafe, horse back riding, a winery and more.
For two hours of activity, it was an absolutely incredible time. I just cannot get over the breathtaking land surrounding us here. These nature hikes are literally our backyard, and while we were there we were completely alone, wondering through avenues of peace and quiet.
We found caves along the trail; caves always make me think of ancestry and timelessness and life:
I know with time we’ll really come to explore a lot of these places in the area and fall in love again and again. It’s so completely not where I would have told you I saw myself at this point, but, even a month after relocating, I can’t imagine how I used to live.