Se since we recently returned from a family vacation, and we have so few of them, it is essential that I over analyze my experience and take from it every potential teachable moment that I can. One thing which I can get in the "know thyself" realm is 'what do I actually want from a vacation.' This is not to say that I was disappointed by my recent adventure overseas, but if I can be so bold as to imagine the perfect setup, I think I should. This way, I know on future trips when I am being let down.
OK, so my perfect vacation. And please, no one take offense.
1. No kids. I love my kids but a vacation means I stop having to worry about anyone other than myself. Does this mean 'no wife'? I'm not sure. A vacation with her is fun and we share so much but the truth is, we also have different interests and priorities (all in a healthy way) so there is much to be said for a vacation on which I am truly alone.
Different people enjoy different types of experiences. Some like being alone and some hate it. I think that when you see my itinerary, it will become obvious that being alone and doing nothing for long stretches doesn't faze me but it might not be something others enjoy.
2. Location -- this is a tough one. I hate air travel and sea travel, and if I have to drive somewhere then the trip is not relaxing. I also don't want to deal with natural disasters when I'm there. I want warm sunny days (79 to 87 degrees, please, low humidity and a light breeze) and cool but comfy nights (no lower than 65 and clear, almost no breeze). I think that, maybe, Florida via train is an option. Just not during hurricane season.
3. I want access to scads of kosher food. I want a Jewish community that can feed me and then leave me the heck alone. Kosher room service is a plus.
4. Accommodations -- a hotel. A fancy, schmancy hotel. I'm talking wifi, phone in the bathroom, welcome basket, free robe fancy. I want a suite with big screen TV's, a couple o' bathrooms maybe with a whirlpool or the like. While the idea of a villa is attractive, I would prefer being in a nice building with a central lobby where I can sit with a paper and a cuppa and watch people. People I don't know and don't have to talk to. I want there to be an outdoor pool I can sit next to and a heated indoor pool (heavy on the chlorine...none of those salt water pools) I can swim in (not so much swimming laps as jumping in and diving down to pick up toys from the bottom).
5. I need a car. And valet parking. I don't know why, or if I'll use it, but I need a car.
6. During the day I want the option of walking or driving (under 15 minutes travel time) to some sort of attractions -- museums, stadiums, concert venues, monuments, scenic sites, parks and like that but I don't want to stand on long lines in the sun, watching loads of children drip ice cream on my feet. Some days, I just want to stay on the balcony of my room (add "balcony" to item 4, please) and some days I want to go into the pool for 5 or 6 hours. Make sure there is a book store nearby. Real books. Not a religious book store, and not one that sells three books, 45 tourist souvenirs and soda. I want the option to do something or nothing.
My goal, clearly, is to read, eat, swim, walk, watch TV/films (make sure there is a movie theater in or near, and a bowling alley while you are at it) and generally soak in the experience. Very little talking or interacting. Close but far, quaint but modern, big but small.
and if you can make it free, that's be just skippy.
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edit, a little while later -- i'd like to have a bunch of friends on the same vacation, all interested in being left alone. that way we can have a poker game in the evenings or a steak eating contest during the day and then go back to ignoring everything.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
I was wrong
There. I said it. I was wrong and I'm not too proud to admit it. I freely admit that I was wrong about digital photography.
We just came back from vacation and I have been going through the pictures. We took (I think) 5 cameras, all digital. Let's crunch the numbers.
I have reviewed the 544 pictures I kept from my little Canon Powershot. 544 pictures. In the olden days, that would mean over 20 rolls of film -- to carry, to load and reload, to worry about taking through the x-ray machine, to have to take (and pay) to get developed. That's substantial. And since I have them on the computer, I can manipulate and share them, and even print them out as pictures or as part of a photobook.
Julie's fancy camera (the Canon Rebel T3) was useful for multiple shots and artsier photos...over 1100 of them. Think about another 40+ rolls of film and not knowing if the pictures taken are any good. We must have deleted another couple of hundred as we took them. I was concerned thatt he film SLR would still have an edge over digital because of the speed and options, but the Rebel, while not quite as simple as the controls on my old Canon AE-1, did some great work, even for the formal shots. The higher megapixel count allows for post shot zooming and blowing up. Not yet on the level of a solid bit of film, but soon that will be standard as well.
I haven't been through the girls' cameras yet, but the idea that each can have a reasonable quality camera and take pictures without any worry over wasting film makes taking pictures an incredible educational opportunity.
I honestly didn't think that the quality would go up, price down and learning curve be so scalable so quickly. I'm glad I was wrong. Digital is a pretty neat thing.
We just came back from vacation and I have been going through the pictures. We took (I think) 5 cameras, all digital. Let's crunch the numbers.
I have reviewed the 544 pictures I kept from my little Canon Powershot. 544 pictures. In the olden days, that would mean over 20 rolls of film -- to carry, to load and reload, to worry about taking through the x-ray machine, to have to take (and pay) to get developed. That's substantial. And since I have them on the computer, I can manipulate and share them, and even print them out as pictures or as part of a photobook.
Julie's fancy camera (the Canon Rebel T3) was useful for multiple shots and artsier photos...over 1100 of them. Think about another 40+ rolls of film and not knowing if the pictures taken are any good. We must have deleted another couple of hundred as we took them. I was concerned thatt he film SLR would still have an edge over digital because of the speed and options, but the Rebel, while not quite as simple as the controls on my old Canon AE-1, did some great work, even for the formal shots. The higher megapixel count allows for post shot zooming and blowing up. Not yet on the level of a solid bit of film, but soon that will be standard as well.
I haven't been through the girls' cameras yet, but the idea that each can have a reasonable quality camera and take pictures without any worry over wasting film makes taking pictures an incredible educational opportunity.
I honestly didn't think that the quality would go up, price down and learning curve be so scalable so quickly. I'm glad I was wrong. Digital is a pretty neat thing.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Home, sweat, home
We awoke in Israel, and spent Thursday buying stuff. Julie got a ride to Talpiyot and took Maddie as they went to the Emanuel factory and then to the mall for lunch, while I took Talia back to Cafe Cafe -- she had pizza and fries and I started with crispy eggplant stuffed with cheese and served in a cream sauce, followed by a toasted Italian sandwich (mozzarella, red peppers and something else which I forget but not tomatoes on a flat sesame seed pita/roll). Talia had a Belgian waffle and I had coffee. We were stuffed. We walked to Machane Yehudah so Talia could find some gifts. When Julie called to ask where we were, we told her to come to the shuk and we'd find her. A needle in a hay stack, but it actually worked. We kept walking around and we found her! And then we spent half an hour in a candy store.
We walked out and about, down King George (plus some side streets) and came back up through Ben Yehudah so we could hit all sorts of stores one more time and eat some more Moshiko's felafel. We made it back to the house at 7:30 which left us and hour and a half to finish packing. I had found a guy driving an actual minivan cab and set up to have him come at 9PM for (what I thought was) a 1AM flight. He showed up on time and we had a great ride. If you need the name and number of a quality Israeli cab driver with a minivan, let me know. On the way, I realized that the flight was at 12:30AM but I didn't let that panic me. We still got to the airport with 2:45 to spare.
Then the lines began. First there was the line to get to general check-in so that our backs to be checked could get a security tag. Julie had to get the VAT back on all she bought so that was another line. Then another, longer line to actual check in. There, we were told that our checked bags were too heavy (we tried to balance them but it didn't work out). Our carry-on baggage was also deemed to be too heavy so we had to go to another security line before getting our boarding passes so that we could have that same security check in to add our 2 other bags to the "checked bags" list. Then back to the check in line for boarding passes. Then, into another room for a security check and passport stamp.
After the passport check we were herded (and I use that word intentionally) in a room with the metal detectors. There were no lines or guidance. Just everyone from every current flight leaving the airport in one room moving somewhat forward. People who were running late for one flight asked to jump ahead in line. But there was no line. For an airport which has such tight security and professionalism, this was insane. And the clock kept ticking. Suddenly, we weren't so ahead of the game. We made it through the metal detectors and still had to go towards the gate and stop in the duty free/VAT area to get the VAT money. At that point, our flight was already moving from "boarding" to "last call." We RAN to the gate. Have you ever seen those families running through the airport? We were that family. And just to clear up your thoughts -- we were there on time, even for a 12:30 flight. The lines were crazy and everything went wrong on line. But we were there in time, dagnabit. Stop judging.
We ran to the gate (which was, of course, the one farthest away) and when we got there, we asked if we were last. The woman smiled and said "no". The woman next to her, in Hebrew said "they are last." Just so happens that we speak enough Hebrew to know that we were on everyone's not happy list. As we ran down the tunnel, people were asking us our name to confirm who we were. We made it on board and settled in to the 777 and then all of us on that flight sat around and waited another 30 minutes till we could leave.
The flight started fine and after our mystery sandwiches, everyone settled in to a movie or tv show or sleep. Then, once everyone else was comfy, the turbulence began. Not only was I crazy nauseated, but I was also pretty much convinced that I was going to die. I don't like flying. I like turbulence even less. On the plus side, I was able to make space for another meal rather effectively. Julie calmed me down so I could get a little sleep but the whole experience was rather, well, unsettling.
We landed in Newark by around 5:45 and made it through the customs, passport control, security, baggage claim, immigration and getting to our car within 45 minutes. Then, the drive home so we could start laundry, unpacking and readying for an apparent hurricane on its way. So now I'd like to move from the play by play to the color commentary.
I love Israel. Let's start with that. But I am a spoiled American. I like things the way I like them. Houses, streets, drivers, cultural norms...all of it, I like as it is. And while I respect and admire those people who can up and go and live in Israel, I just don't know how to do it. Maybe if we had huge amounts of money and could afford to buy an apartment in a luxury condo or buy a home in a tree lined, not hilly neighborhood somewhere, then maybe. But aside from the spirituality (which, yes, is palpable) and the ease of eating out (which is great but guaranteed to drive one bankrupt) there is so much that just isn't in my comfort zone. And that's ignoring the bureaucracy and the paperwork. There are so many things that I am just used to.
We have already told the girls that if they want to go back and study or go for a summer then great. But if they move there, while that's all well and good with us, and we visit, we are staying in a hotel and coming over during commercials. And I can't be sure I can stomach the flight without scads of Xanax or stronger.
I was torn when I got off the plane -- what would I say if someone at the various check points said "Welcome Home." Would I say "thanks" as I kiss the ground and use money I understand, look at the temperature I understand, watch the traffic I understand, the television shows I understand etc, or would I say "well, I'm back, but Israel is my home." No one said anything but I'm still all confused. If you'd like to simplify things by giving me millions of dollars and inventing a teleportation machine, then I'm game.
We walked out and about, down King George (plus some side streets) and came back up through Ben Yehudah so we could hit all sorts of stores one more time and eat some more Moshiko's felafel. We made it back to the house at 7:30 which left us and hour and a half to finish packing. I had found a guy driving an actual minivan cab and set up to have him come at 9PM for (what I thought was) a 1AM flight. He showed up on time and we had a great ride. If you need the name and number of a quality Israeli cab driver with a minivan, let me know. On the way, I realized that the flight was at 12:30AM but I didn't let that panic me. We still got to the airport with 2:45 to spare.
Then the lines began. First there was the line to get to general check-in so that our backs to be checked could get a security tag. Julie had to get the VAT back on all she bought so that was another line. Then another, longer line to actual check in. There, we were told that our checked bags were too heavy (we tried to balance them but it didn't work out). Our carry-on baggage was also deemed to be too heavy so we had to go to another security line before getting our boarding passes so that we could have that same security check in to add our 2 other bags to the "checked bags" list. Then back to the check in line for boarding passes. Then, into another room for a security check and passport stamp.
After the passport check we were herded (and I use that word intentionally) in a room with the metal detectors. There were no lines or guidance. Just everyone from every current flight leaving the airport in one room moving somewhat forward. People who were running late for one flight asked to jump ahead in line. But there was no line. For an airport which has such tight security and professionalism, this was insane. And the clock kept ticking. Suddenly, we weren't so ahead of the game. We made it through the metal detectors and still had to go towards the gate and stop in the duty free/VAT area to get the VAT money. At that point, our flight was already moving from "boarding" to "last call." We RAN to the gate. Have you ever seen those families running through the airport? We were that family. And just to clear up your thoughts -- we were there on time, even for a 12:30 flight. The lines were crazy and everything went wrong on line. But we were there in time, dagnabit. Stop judging.
We ran to the gate (which was, of course, the one farthest away) and when we got there, we asked if we were last. The woman smiled and said "no". The woman next to her, in Hebrew said "they are last." Just so happens that we speak enough Hebrew to know that we were on everyone's not happy list. As we ran down the tunnel, people were asking us our name to confirm who we were. We made it on board and settled in to the 777 and then all of us on that flight sat around and waited another 30 minutes till we could leave.
The flight started fine and after our mystery sandwiches, everyone settled in to a movie or tv show or sleep. Then, once everyone else was comfy, the turbulence began. Not only was I crazy nauseated, but I was also pretty much convinced that I was going to die. I don't like flying. I like turbulence even less. On the plus side, I was able to make space for another meal rather effectively. Julie calmed me down so I could get a little sleep but the whole experience was rather, well, unsettling.
We landed in Newark by around 5:45 and made it through the customs, passport control, security, baggage claim, immigration and getting to our car within 45 minutes. Then, the drive home so we could start laundry, unpacking and readying for an apparent hurricane on its way. So now I'd like to move from the play by play to the color commentary.
I love Israel. Let's start with that. But I am a spoiled American. I like things the way I like them. Houses, streets, drivers, cultural norms...all of it, I like as it is. And while I respect and admire those people who can up and go and live in Israel, I just don't know how to do it. Maybe if we had huge amounts of money and could afford to buy an apartment in a luxury condo or buy a home in a tree lined, not hilly neighborhood somewhere, then maybe. But aside from the spirituality (which, yes, is palpable) and the ease of eating out (which is great but guaranteed to drive one bankrupt) there is so much that just isn't in my comfort zone. And that's ignoring the bureaucracy and the paperwork. There are so many things that I am just used to.
We have already told the girls that if they want to go back and study or go for a summer then great. But if they move there, while that's all well and good with us, and we visit, we are staying in a hotel and coming over during commercials. And I can't be sure I can stomach the flight without scads of Xanax or stronger.
I was torn when I got off the plane -- what would I say if someone at the various check points said "Welcome Home." Would I say "thanks" as I kiss the ground and use money I understand, look at the temperature I understand, watch the traffic I understand, the television shows I understand etc, or would I say "well, I'm back, but Israel is my home." No one said anything but I'm still all confused. If you'd like to simplify things by giving me millions of dollars and inventing a teleportation machine, then I'm game.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
I'll be brief about most of Wednesday.
Woke up, drove over to the Avis return place on King David Street. Got gas, circled the block and tried to find where to return the car. The gas station guy gave me standard Israeli directions (the kind which assume you already know the answer and are just asking for directions in order to engage another human, not to learn anything) and when I called the phone number, I was connected to the Avis desk in Eilat. His response was "no, this is Eilat" click.
Eventually I got through to the Jerusalem desk and their directions were a touch better. Apparently, all you have to do is replace "straight" with "sharp, hidden left" and the whole language makes sense.
I returned the car with little fanfare (which is ok, because it is a little car). I found a cab to take me back to the house and then we all saddled up to walk over to the light rail. Jerusalem is just starting to run its light rail so as part of the testing period, the trip is free. This means that EVERYONE is riding it for no real reason. They push their strollers on and take their extended families on just so that they can get somewhere, cross the tracks and go back. The trip, itself, is slow but not wholly uncomfortable. At Har Herzl we found the one sign to Yad Vashem and walked down. There is no admission fee (though I did try to pay the security guard...I see a guy stopping people so I figure...hand him my credit card. At this point, whatever) but the maps cost a few bucks. They aren't very good maps but at least the pictures are in English.
Yad vashem needs no discussion. It is a comprehensive, moving and important visit. The kids didn't "get" everything, but I am glad they walked through it.
We took the shuttle back to the light rail, crammed inn along with the 17% of the nation's population, and rode back. We got off at Machane Yehudah, walked in a bit, around a bit, and then worked our way to Ben Yehudah street. A few stores later (over priced skirts, under priced liquor and shoes but at 2 different stores) we started back to Machane Yehudah. Candy and souvenirs and we made it back to my sister's house just in time to get picked up to be driven to dinner in Talpiyot.
In Talpiyot, we went to a "steak-a-ria". Lots of skewers of stuff on the menu, and they serve with never ending lafa and salads. Very impressive even if the food itself is nondescript. Final good byes and we made it back to home base to collapse.
Woke up, drove over to the Avis return place on King David Street. Got gas, circled the block and tried to find where to return the car. The gas station guy gave me standard Israeli directions (the kind which assume you already know the answer and are just asking for directions in order to engage another human, not to learn anything) and when I called the phone number, I was connected to the Avis desk in Eilat. His response was "no, this is Eilat" click.
Eventually I got through to the Jerusalem desk and their directions were a touch better. Apparently, all you have to do is replace "straight" with "sharp, hidden left" and the whole language makes sense.
I returned the car with little fanfare (which is ok, because it is a little car). I found a cab to take me back to the house and then we all saddled up to walk over to the light rail. Jerusalem is just starting to run its light rail so as part of the testing period, the trip is free. This means that EVERYONE is riding it for no real reason. They push their strollers on and take their extended families on just so that they can get somewhere, cross the tracks and go back. The trip, itself, is slow but not wholly uncomfortable. At Har Herzl we found the one sign to Yad Vashem and walked down. There is no admission fee (though I did try to pay the security guard...I see a guy stopping people so I figure...hand him my credit card. At this point, whatever) but the maps cost a few bucks. They aren't very good maps but at least the pictures are in English.
Yad vashem needs no discussion. It is a comprehensive, moving and important visit. The kids didn't "get" everything, but I am glad they walked through it.
We took the shuttle back to the light rail, crammed inn along with the 17% of the nation's population, and rode back. We got off at Machane Yehudah, walked in a bit, around a bit, and then worked our way to Ben Yehudah street. A few stores later (over priced skirts, under priced liquor and shoes but at 2 different stores) we started back to Machane Yehudah. Candy and souvenirs and we made it back to my sister's house just in time to get picked up to be driven to dinner in Talpiyot.
In Talpiyot, we went to a "steak-a-ria". Lots of skewers of stuff on the menu, and they serve with never ending lafa and salads. Very impressive even if the food itself is nondescript. Final good byes and we made it back to home base to collapse.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
near vana
When I woke up this morning, in a hotel bed in a foreign country, I almost forgot that I had no way of getting back to where all my stuff was. When that memory set in, I went to call the rental agent to find out what the deal was with my replacement car. He said there was no replacement car. He encouraged me to call any other car rental service and get a car from them and he assured me that I would not be charged. Let me point something out --- I found this out by calling him. He wasn't exactly falling over himself to let me know that I had no car. Customer service reps all over the world are hurting right now.
So, down to the front desk I go to try and get some contact info for other rental places because, you remember, I'm a tourist. I don't live there and don't know the local resources. The front desk woman got me a few different numbers and she worked out a system. She would dial and then hand me the phone so i could struggle with the language. She didn't speak on my behalf, or try to help set anything up. She handed ME the phone. 3 places had no cars. Finally, Avis said they had one. Smaller than what I had, and more expensive, but a car. So I asked where the Avis place is. Big mistake. The directions were the combination of every phrase I have learned is a trick.
"Right down the hill, then go right, everyone knows it, it is right next to a pharmacy only 5 minutes away, ask anyone." I'm a tourist -- maybe a map would be appropriate? Oh yeah, the maps are missing streets and no one actually knows where things are. So I took a walk. After a few false starts and semi true middles, I reached the Avis desk. A few tense minutes later, I was winding my way back through the streets to the hotel to pick everyone up, check out and get to the water.
We drove over to the Gai Beach water park and met with our Efrat friends. First, we parked on an empty side of a mountain and crossed the street to pay our money and get in. We snagged the last two umbrellas and got ready for the water. I took a quick dip in the overcrowded wave pool and figured I'd ride out the day in the shade. That worked well for a while...light chit chat and a bunch of people watching. Then it was pointed out to me that there was also the beach on the Galilee. I didn't realize that we had access to the beach from the water slide area. Much of the next few hours was spent on a perfect day, lazing in the water. It was as close to relaxing as I have been in a while. Truly spectacular weather, no big waves, the water was the right temp (and fresh water). I could imagine staying there for 8 hours for a number of days in a row. Who needs anything else. I assume the kids had fun on the water slides who who cares. I was happy.
They closed at 5 and kicked us out so we made plans to drive in a convoy up to Beit She'an for dinner (lunch had been snack foods which we packed and lots of water). So we drove up to the tiny "mall" in Beit She'an and went to the McDonald's there. The Chicken Selects were a bit peppery but very nice. My concern was that evening was approaching and I didn't relish the thought of driving my little rental car through the West Bank after dark. I did it anyway (with my friends leading the way). It was a bit scary, and we took streets through the city which got us a bit lost. But we made it back. Tomorrow I have to return the car, get back here and then walk to the light railway to head to Har Herzel.
I am still somewhat relaxed, my hair is frizzy and grayer and the last thing I ate was in a cardboard box. I started the day with no car, did some swimming, and now I am going to turn in. Any questions?
So, down to the front desk I go to try and get some contact info for other rental places because, you remember, I'm a tourist. I don't live there and don't know the local resources. The front desk woman got me a few different numbers and she worked out a system. She would dial and then hand me the phone so i could struggle with the language. She didn't speak on my behalf, or try to help set anything up. She handed ME the phone. 3 places had no cars. Finally, Avis said they had one. Smaller than what I had, and more expensive, but a car. So I asked where the Avis place is. Big mistake. The directions were the combination of every phrase I have learned is a trick.
"Right down the hill, then go right, everyone knows it, it is right next to a pharmacy only 5 minutes away, ask anyone." I'm a tourist -- maybe a map would be appropriate? Oh yeah, the maps are missing streets and no one actually knows where things are. So I took a walk. After a few false starts and semi true middles, I reached the Avis desk. A few tense minutes later, I was winding my way back through the streets to the hotel to pick everyone up, check out and get to the water.
We drove over to the Gai Beach water park and met with our Efrat friends. First, we parked on an empty side of a mountain and crossed the street to pay our money and get in. We snagged the last two umbrellas and got ready for the water. I took a quick dip in the overcrowded wave pool and figured I'd ride out the day in the shade. That worked well for a while...light chit chat and a bunch of people watching. Then it was pointed out to me that there was also the beach on the Galilee. I didn't realize that we had access to the beach from the water slide area. Much of the next few hours was spent on a perfect day, lazing in the water. It was as close to relaxing as I have been in a while. Truly spectacular weather, no big waves, the water was the right temp (and fresh water). I could imagine staying there for 8 hours for a number of days in a row. Who needs anything else. I assume the kids had fun on the water slides who who cares. I was happy.
They closed at 5 and kicked us out so we made plans to drive in a convoy up to Beit She'an for dinner (lunch had been snack foods which we packed and lots of water). So we drove up to the tiny "mall" in Beit She'an and went to the McDonald's there. The Chicken Selects were a bit peppery but very nice. My concern was that evening was approaching and I didn't relish the thought of driving my little rental car through the West Bank after dark. I did it anyway (with my friends leading the way). It was a bit scary, and we took streets through the city which got us a bit lost. But we made it back. Tomorrow I have to return the car, get back here and then walk to the light railway to head to Har Herzel.
I am still somewhat relaxed, my hair is frizzy and grayer and the last thing I ate was in a cardboard box. I started the day with no car, did some swimming, and now I am going to turn in. Any questions?
Monday, August 22, 2011
What goes up must call a cab
Strange days, indeed. Today was a day which pointed out the ridiculous, the sublime and the ridiculous. We got up this morning and busted our tushes to try and get out of the hotel quickly. We had been reassured that the trip from Tiberias to Tzfat ("Zefat" for some reason, on signs) was 20-30 minutes. I guess Israelis compute minutes on the Celcius scale. It took us 30 minutes just to get on the road. But we zoomed up, and up on route 90. Eventually, we hit route 89 and took a left. A left in Israel means a right around a circle until you are headed to the left. Makes perfect sense. We went up higher along roads untouched since sheep and goats blazed them thousands of years ago. Unfortunately, these particular goats and sheep were stupid and drunk and couldn't walk a straight line so the road took all sorts of weird twists and turns and at the end, I still didn't know who done it.
After an hour of traveling 30 kilometers (computed as the crow staggers. It doesn't include the extra 400 kilometers of vertical climb) we started seeing signs. We were told that there would be clear signas to where we were going, but that's another famous Israeli phrase. "Follow the signs" means "there will be one sign. Establish a telepathic link with it and you'll be fine." We got pretty lucky and found the world's smallest parking lot and parked in it. We met our guide, Jeff Katz and started walking through the Artists' Colony. Some art I get, some I don't. Some I like, some I don't. In fact, my appreciation is reflected in the price - I like expensive stuff because that's the only stuff worth liking. We saw some synagogues and heard some stories. The girls were hot but only somewhat bored so we were doing OK.
For lunch, we ate at Cafe Isadore. Talia found a plain toasted bagel and Maddie had a bagel with butter. I had a quiche of sweet potato and onions and each of us also had a green salad. Very nice. Not fancy and their credit card machine didn't work, but it sufficed and the courtyard was cool and pleasant. Next stop was pottery with Batya Erdstein.
There, the girls learned how to throw a piece of pottery on a wheel while I climbed the 300 or so steps to try and find a bank so we could pay her. Thing is, many banks are closed for siesta in the mid afternoon. I stumbled into a money conversion kiosk and paid the premium for money there. Then back down the stairs to watch the girls make stuff. The activity was fabulous, Batya is very nice and we all left with a piece of art which we created. We piled back into the car planning to find a beach and stick our toes in the Kinneret (Galilee). On the way, we stopped for gas and I used the self serve. We got back on the road and the car started making weird noises and responding poorly to the accelerator. After 7.5 kilometers, I had to pull over and the car simply stopped working. is it possible I put in the wrong gas? I guess. But there were no particular signs saying that I was using anything other than regular ol' gas so who knows. We pulled over and tried to figure out what to do. I'll streamline the story by listing the process:
1. we called the "24 hour emergency number" only to be told that it was for use after hours. It was still before 5 so we were directed to call the rental office.
2. We got an English speaker on the phone and explained the situation. He said he'd get right back to us.
3. He didn't, so Julie called 10 minutes later and got snapped at by a woman who said they were "working on it."
4. We waited another hour and then called back, only to hear the recording that the office was closed.
5. We called the 24 emergency number and heard an answering machine telling us to leave a message.
6. Tried another of the 24 emergency numbers and got a guy who said he couldn't help, but I should call the manager at the other number. I told him I had and it was a machine but he insisted that the manager was there now.
7. The manager ended up being the guy from step 1. He said that he'd call us right back.
side note -- I am an English teacher in a high school. I am not a mechanic. So when the various people asked me repeatedly "what is wrong with the car" I couldn't really answer other than "it no make moving".
another side note -- I pulled over right next to the marker indicating the entrance to the city. From this side, there is a single road which enters; it is marked by a giant stone etched with the words "welcome" and a smaller stone marker indicating where Israeli forces entered from the north in the 1948 war. Remember, there is only 1 entrance from this direction. And yet no one with whom I spoke had any idea where I was. I detailed the road number and he signs and markers, but got no where with people who actually live in the town.
8. Eventually, after a series of back and forth calls and attempts to explain, we were told that the car would get picked up and a replacement car provided in 4 hours. We had already been on the side fo the road in 95+ degrees for 2 hours. Four more hours. We were encouraged to get a cab and get back to the hotel. We didn't have the number of a cab company handy and the local cabs do not have their phone number on the side. We had to call a friend who found the number and called it in, while we flagged down cabs and tried to press drivers into calling ahead for us.
9. Cabs showed up eventually and we returned to the hotel. It took 5 more calls for the mechanics to find the car. They confirmed that it did not start.
10. As of now, I still have no car. We are supposed to drive back to Jerusalem tomorrow (and we wanted to stop at a water park on the way -- both will be tough without a car).
Final note -- do I feel bad if I broke the car? Nope. I paid extra to remove the deductible on the car so I'm just cashing in on my investment. Nyah nyah.
For dinner, we had planned to go up the hill (our hotel is 60 percent of the way up the hill) to a pizza place just to celebrate our being alive. It took some work but we were advised to walk DOWN the hill to another pizza place since we wanted to be down the hill anyway to walk on the Boardwalk. We were told that the walk all the way down is only 15 minutes. That should have been a red flag. I am disillusioned about the Israeli notions of time and space. Their idea of "15 minutes" is completely skewed. It may be that they didn't beat the Arabs in any of the wars, they just gave the Arabs some directions. So we ate at "Bereishit Pizza." We ordered the XL Pizza. XL is Hebrew for "medium sized and not very good." No menus, no prices, no side dishes, no options. Just poor pizza. We continued town the hill and I marveled at how the ice cream coolers had Ben and Jerry's, Nestles and Stolichnaya. Second dinner was a mediocre felafel at a place smack dab in the midst of the tourist area.
We made it to the Boardwalk, watched the light/water show at the Tiberium, and then argued about what to do next. Boardwalks are not interesting to everyone especially after the day we had. They were crowded, loud and over priced. Lots of fun. We all stuck it out though there was plenty of whining involved, but when we tried to get a cab to drive us back up the hill, none could be found! So we figured that while we looked, we could start walking. We ended up schleppping all the way back to the hotel.
So in total, we have no car, no plan, no energy and are running out of money.
I love Israel, but this trip is testing me. Julie is being a real trouper helping organize and arrange. Talia is having some fun as is Maddie, but each positive is offset by a negative. I'm gaining weight because I eat when I am frustrated, but when I'm not frustrated, I eat. Tomorrow, maybe a water park, eventually back to Jerusalem.
In theory, at least.
After an hour of traveling 30 kilometers (computed as the crow staggers. It doesn't include the extra 400 kilometers of vertical climb) we started seeing signs. We were told that there would be clear signas to where we were going, but that's another famous Israeli phrase. "Follow the signs" means "there will be one sign. Establish a telepathic link with it and you'll be fine." We got pretty lucky and found the world's smallest parking lot and parked in it. We met our guide, Jeff Katz and started walking through the Artists' Colony. Some art I get, some I don't. Some I like, some I don't. In fact, my appreciation is reflected in the price - I like expensive stuff because that's the only stuff worth liking. We saw some synagogues and heard some stories. The girls were hot but only somewhat bored so we were doing OK.
For lunch, we ate at Cafe Isadore. Talia found a plain toasted bagel and Maddie had a bagel with butter. I had a quiche of sweet potato and onions and each of us also had a green salad. Very nice. Not fancy and their credit card machine didn't work, but it sufficed and the courtyard was cool and pleasant. Next stop was pottery with Batya Erdstein.
There, the girls learned how to throw a piece of pottery on a wheel while I climbed the 300 or so steps to try and find a bank so we could pay her. Thing is, many banks are closed for siesta in the mid afternoon. I stumbled into a money conversion kiosk and paid the premium for money there. Then back down the stairs to watch the girls make stuff. The activity was fabulous, Batya is very nice and we all left with a piece of art which we created. We piled back into the car planning to find a beach and stick our toes in the Kinneret (Galilee). On the way, we stopped for gas and I used the self serve. We got back on the road and the car started making weird noises and responding poorly to the accelerator. After 7.5 kilometers, I had to pull over and the car simply stopped working. is it possible I put in the wrong gas? I guess. But there were no particular signs saying that I was using anything other than regular ol' gas so who knows. We pulled over and tried to figure out what to do. I'll streamline the story by listing the process:
1. we called the "24 hour emergency number" only to be told that it was for use after hours. It was still before 5 so we were directed to call the rental office.
2. We got an English speaker on the phone and explained the situation. He said he'd get right back to us.
3. He didn't, so Julie called 10 minutes later and got snapped at by a woman who said they were "working on it."
4. We waited another hour and then called back, only to hear the recording that the office was closed.
5. We called the 24 emergency number and heard an answering machine telling us to leave a message.
6. Tried another of the 24 emergency numbers and got a guy who said he couldn't help, but I should call the manager at the other number. I told him I had and it was a machine but he insisted that the manager was there now.
7. The manager ended up being the guy from step 1. He said that he'd call us right back.
side note -- I am an English teacher in a high school. I am not a mechanic. So when the various people asked me repeatedly "what is wrong with the car" I couldn't really answer other than "it no make moving".
another side note -- I pulled over right next to the marker indicating the entrance to the city. From this side, there is a single road which enters; it is marked by a giant stone etched with the words "welcome" and a smaller stone marker indicating where Israeli forces entered from the north in the 1948 war. Remember, there is only 1 entrance from this direction. And yet no one with whom I spoke had any idea where I was. I detailed the road number and he signs and markers, but got no where with people who actually live in the town.
8. Eventually, after a series of back and forth calls and attempts to explain, we were told that the car would get picked up and a replacement car provided in 4 hours. We had already been on the side fo the road in 95+ degrees for 2 hours. Four more hours. We were encouraged to get a cab and get back to the hotel. We didn't have the number of a cab company handy and the local cabs do not have their phone number on the side. We had to call a friend who found the number and called it in, while we flagged down cabs and tried to press drivers into calling ahead for us.
9. Cabs showed up eventually and we returned to the hotel. It took 5 more calls for the mechanics to find the car. They confirmed that it did not start.
10. As of now, I still have no car. We are supposed to drive back to Jerusalem tomorrow (and we wanted to stop at a water park on the way -- both will be tough without a car).
Final note -- do I feel bad if I broke the car? Nope. I paid extra to remove the deductible on the car so I'm just cashing in on my investment. Nyah nyah.
For dinner, we had planned to go up the hill (our hotel is 60 percent of the way up the hill) to a pizza place just to celebrate our being alive. It took some work but we were advised to walk DOWN the hill to another pizza place since we wanted to be down the hill anyway to walk on the Boardwalk. We were told that the walk all the way down is only 15 minutes. That should have been a red flag. I am disillusioned about the Israeli notions of time and space. Their idea of "15 minutes" is completely skewed. It may be that they didn't beat the Arabs in any of the wars, they just gave the Arabs some directions. So we ate at "Bereishit Pizza." We ordered the XL Pizza. XL is Hebrew for "medium sized and not very good." No menus, no prices, no side dishes, no options. Just poor pizza. We continued town the hill and I marveled at how the ice cream coolers had Ben and Jerry's, Nestles and Stolichnaya. Second dinner was a mediocre felafel at a place smack dab in the midst of the tourist area.
We made it to the Boardwalk, watched the light/water show at the Tiberium, and then argued about what to do next. Boardwalks are not interesting to everyone especially after the day we had. They were crowded, loud and over priced. Lots of fun. We all stuck it out though there was plenty of whining involved, but when we tried to get a cab to drive us back up the hill, none could be found! So we figured that while we looked, we could start walking. We ended up schleppping all the way back to the hotel.
So in total, we have no car, no plan, no energy and are running out of money.
I love Israel, but this trip is testing me. Julie is being a real trouper helping organize and arrange. Talia is having some fun as is Maddie, but each positive is offset by a negative. I'm gaining weight because I eat when I am frustrated, but when I'm not frustrated, I eat. Tomorrow, maybe a water park, eventually back to Jerusalem.
In theory, at least.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
for the want of a parking spot
It is now a little while later. I happen to know this because I wrote the post about arriving in Tiberias a little while ago. Therefore, it must be a little later. I want to put some thoughts down about dinner and what I have learned about the cultural idioms in Israel. First, dinner. We ate at a restaurant called "Galileo." If you are ever in Tiberias, eat there. Twice, at least. Instead of appetizers, we got loaves of bread with dipping sauces. Yum. Julie got salmon, which she said rivaled Benny's, Maddie got the schnitzel, Talia and Mikki shared the sirloin, and I had the entrecote steak. This is apparently a popular cut of steak here. Who knew. The beef was a tad salty and a little undercooked, but yummy. For dessert, the table had assorted chocolate things and I had fruit sorbet and fake vanilla ice cream. Hoe runs all around. We spent 15 minutes patting our stomaches and complaining how we couldn't move. In fact, I still think, 2 hours later, that I could throw up and still be full. Maybe that isn't the most appetizing thought, but there you have it.
Now, we had heard that there was a promenade downtown, and a laser light show. So we asked Mark our waiter, and I leanred another important Israeli phrase. So far I have:
"Ask anyone" = "good luck. no one will help you"
"five minutes away" = "half an hour if you are lucky, 25 minutes if you are a world class athlete"
and now
"plenty of parking" = "plenty of cards already parked so there are no spots for you"
The thing is, as much as we are in a relatively "big city" (relative to my living room, I think) this town is pretty small in some senses (sight and touch, for example). There is a single main road leading in and through, with 1.5 lanes in each direction. If something gets stopped up ahead by a traffic light or a goat, you just sit. There are no alternate routes. So as we slowly drifted through town with 4 lanes of cars working their way through 1.5 lanes of street, we couldn't get anywhere near a parking spot no matter what assurance we had that there was "plenty" of parking. So we gave up and mace our way back to the hotel. I see that as a victory; I found the hotel in the dark. There has to be some reward for that. So the girls are upstairs in the "suite" (a bedroom, and another room with a trundle couch) working on sleeping arrangements and I am trying to collect my thoughts in the lobby. Tomorrow we head norther, Miss Tesmacker. I expect to be hungry again next week.
Now, we had heard that there was a promenade downtown, and a laser light show. So we asked Mark our waiter, and I leanred another important Israeli phrase. So far I have:
"Ask anyone" = "good luck. no one will help you"
"five minutes away" = "half an hour if you are lucky, 25 minutes if you are a world class athlete"
and now
"plenty of parking" = "plenty of cards already parked so there are no spots for you"
The thing is, as much as we are in a relatively "big city" (relative to my living room, I think) this town is pretty small in some senses (sight and touch, for example). There is a single main road leading in and through, with 1.5 lanes in each direction. If something gets stopped up ahead by a traffic light or a goat, you just sit. There are no alternate routes. So as we slowly drifted through town with 4 lanes of cars working their way through 1.5 lanes of street, we couldn't get anywhere near a parking spot no matter what assurance we had that there was "plenty" of parking. So we gave up and mace our way back to the hotel. I see that as a victory; I found the hotel in the dark. There has to be some reward for that. So the girls are upstairs in the "suite" (a bedroom, and another room with a trundle couch) working on sleeping arrangements and I am trying to collect my thoughts in the lobby. Tomorrow we head norther, Miss Tesmacker. I expect to be hungry again next week.
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