This is my second trip to the country. I wish I had been in writing mode for my first trip last year to capture the first impressions, but better late than never.A tightly scheduled, in and out trip means that I cannot visit Jerusalem and the Dead sea this time either.
Day 1: Friday
A much needed storm in the Bay Area. Watching news for delays/cancellations at SFO: but nary a drop of water to accompany the howling winds till I reach the airport. Starts to rain but the trip is on. Flying United has to be the single most depressing thing. Outside of flying the erstwhile NorthWest. Crappy aircraft, flight attendants from hell and the food. The food. If you can't provide edible Indian veggie fare on a flight out of New Jersey, you should not be flying planes. After the meal service - the meal was bad and the service worse, the guy in the next seat opens up his whiskey bottle bought at the duty free shop and offers me a drink. Thank him and partake the perfect antidote for United airlines: Johnny Walker Red Label.
Day 2: Saturday
Arrive in Tel Aviv. A pleasant evening. Quick ride to the hotel. Nice and easy. Shower to get rid of the uneasiness from a 15.5 hour cabin class flight. A 10th-floor, sea-ish facing room with a decent view - can't really complain. However, last time was much nicer: 25th floor overlooking the Med coast. So, yes, I'm a greedy pig. A pre-dinner beer with some finger (smacking) food. Then dinner at a nice restaurant. More food, this time with German beer. The hotel rations free water to one 500-ml bottler per night: so wrong. Walk to buy more water but the store is closed. Shabbat evening.
Day 3: Sunday
Set the alarm for 6:30am. Wake up at 2:30. Must take melatonin. The breakfast spread is easily the most sumptuous one ever I've had on the road from a vegetarian's perspective. Sundays are working days in the holy land. And it is indeed a long day ahead with late afternoon meetings. Meetings that don't start on time turn into meetings that don't end on time. It is a way of life here, so I was told and so I realize. But it will be a challenge to stay awake and alert. Fabulous dinner at an Israeli restaurant. And I choose to fight jet lag with the aid of copious quantities of alcohol.
Day 4: Monday
Attend a 3-hour long all hands meeting. In Hebrew. But the slides are in English and my manager gives me real time English translations. Get a falafel sandwich lunch with a side of really crisp fries. The friendly old man running the falafel stand plies us with some more falafels on the house. Colleagues are caught up with other meetings and I'm on my own for dinner. I walk to old town Jaffa, just a mile down the beach from the hotel and get myself a signature Abouelafia sandwich and a side of their falafels. I've already had my share of falafels for the day but the chefs of A'lafia simply make the best ones. Yum!
Day 5: Tuesday
The cab driver reeks of tobacco and demands to know my room number so that he can pick me up tomorrow. Yeah, right. Seven meetings planned for the day. And they get pushed around, chopped and juggled. But they all still happen. First proper sand storm. Freshly imported from North Africa. Fine dust in the eyes, throat and on the cars. Evokes memories of that knock at Sharjah. Just walking around is trouble, imagine playing cricket and taking good bowlers to the cleaners! #Respect. Dinner at a fancy Japanese restaurant. Ouch! Japanese over so many other local and Italian places in Tel Aviv. Imagine Scarlett Johansson and her friends asking you out for a date (I said imagine!) and you choose to go out with Kamala Kamesh instead. Kamala Kamesh in a kimono. Ugh! Sashimi, teppanyaki and sushi can mean only one thing: a beer and edamame dinner for me.
Day 6: Wednesday
I manage 6 hours of reasonably restful sleep. But I wake up really hungry. The storm, not a common occurrence I'm told, is here to stay. The sea is rough, the air is murky and the sky is grey. The sun is blanked out behind clouds and the dust. This storm is keeping the rains from the north come in and clean up the air a bit. The rains finally arrive in the evening. Head to the bar for drinks and finger food. And then back to the hotel for some food and some more drinks. Gold star, the Israeli beer, is crispy and good. And although I don't have a developed taste for wines, the few red wines that I've sampled are pretty good too. I'm now nearly adjusted to the Israeli clock. And I'm leaving tomorrow. Sweet.
Day 7: Thursday/Friday
Day 1: Friday
A much needed storm in the Bay Area. Watching news for delays/cancellations at SFO: but nary a drop of water to accompany the howling winds till I reach the airport. Starts to rain but the trip is on. Flying United has to be the single most depressing thing. Outside of flying the erstwhile NorthWest. Crappy aircraft, flight attendants from hell and the food. The food. If you can't provide edible Indian veggie fare on a flight out of New Jersey, you should not be flying planes. After the meal service - the meal was bad and the service worse, the guy in the next seat opens up his whiskey bottle bought at the duty free shop and offers me a drink. Thank him and partake the perfect antidote for United airlines: Johnny Walker Red Label.
Day 2: Saturday
Arrive in Tel Aviv. A pleasant evening. Quick ride to the hotel. Nice and easy. Shower to get rid of the uneasiness from a 15.5 hour cabin class flight. A 10th-floor, sea-ish facing room with a decent view - can't really complain. However, last time was much nicer: 25th floor overlooking the Med coast. So, yes, I'm a greedy pig. A pre-dinner beer with some finger (smacking) food. Then dinner at a nice restaurant. More food, this time with German beer. The hotel rations free water to one 500-ml bottler per night: so wrong. Walk to buy more water but the store is closed. Shabbat evening.
Day 3: Sunday
Set the alarm for 6:30am. Wake up at 2:30. Must take melatonin. The breakfast spread is easily the most sumptuous one ever I've had on the road from a vegetarian's perspective. Sundays are working days in the holy land. And it is indeed a long day ahead with late afternoon meetings. Meetings that don't start on time turn into meetings that don't end on time. It is a way of life here, so I was told and so I realize. But it will be a challenge to stay awake and alert. Fabulous dinner at an Israeli restaurant. And I choose to fight jet lag with the aid of copious quantities of alcohol.
Day 4: Monday
Attend a 3-hour long all hands meeting. In Hebrew. But the slides are in English and my manager gives me real time English translations. Get a falafel sandwich lunch with a side of really crisp fries. The friendly old man running the falafel stand plies us with some more falafels on the house. Colleagues are caught up with other meetings and I'm on my own for dinner. I walk to old town Jaffa, just a mile down the beach from the hotel and get myself a signature Abouelafia sandwich and a side of their falafels. I've already had my share of falafels for the day but the chefs of A'lafia simply make the best ones. Yum!
Day 5: Tuesday
The cab driver reeks of tobacco and demands to know my room number so that he can pick me up tomorrow. Yeah, right. Seven meetings planned for the day. And they get pushed around, chopped and juggled. But they all still happen. First proper sand storm. Freshly imported from North Africa. Fine dust in the eyes, throat and on the cars. Evokes memories of that knock at Sharjah. Just walking around is trouble, imagine playing cricket and taking good bowlers to the cleaners! #Respect. Dinner at a fancy Japanese restaurant. Ouch! Japanese over so many other local and Italian places in Tel Aviv. Imagine Scarlett Johansson and her friends asking you out for a date (I said imagine!) and you choose to go out with Kamala Kamesh instead. Kamala Kamesh in a kimono. Ugh! Sashimi, teppanyaki and sushi can mean only one thing: a beer and edamame dinner for me.
Day 6: Wednesday
I manage 6 hours of reasonably restful sleep. But I wake up really hungry. The storm, not a common occurrence I'm told, is here to stay. The sea is rough, the air is murky and the sky is grey. The sun is blanked out behind clouds and the dust. This storm is keeping the rains from the north come in and clean up the air a bit. The rains finally arrive in the evening. Head to the bar for drinks and finger food. And then back to the hotel for some food and some more drinks. Gold star, the Israeli beer, is crispy and good. And although I don't have a developed taste for wines, the few red wines that I've sampled are pretty good too. I'm now nearly adjusted to the Israeli clock. And I'm leaving tomorrow. Sweet.
Day 7: Thursday/Friday
There is an intense security screening on the way out at the airport. A standard clearance letter from the company helps ease things. And I forgot to collect one. If you think I'm an irresponsible traveler, you should read this and this. Although my good heart and a clean conscience helped me clear the procedures without any hiccups, I'll collect one the next time. A rabbi, an American and a United flight attendant walk into
a Boeing 777. This pretty much sums up the
return flight. Sitting somewhere in the deeper rows, I try to get some sleep so that I can be a bit refreshed for the morning arrival. No luck. Instead end up watching Craig Ferguson do stand up (enjoyable), catch up on some episodes of Curb your Enthusiasm (good) and the movie A Good Lie with Reese Witherspoon (underwhelming: good subject badly handled). I know this is getting repetitive but the grumpy crew on this flight made the one on the onward journey look like a real friendly bunch. But if that is my only complaint for Friday the 13th, I'm OK.
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