L'Hitraot, Yisrael

See you later, Israel!

So I thought I'd say how the rest of the trip went, and also share a few random observations about our Israel trip.

We spent the last weekend in Ramat Yishay again with Ofer and Tal's family, starting with Shabbat dinner. Ironically, Ofer was called suddenly to his second-ever business trip to the US during the week, and didn't get back until Saturday night. Naomi and the girls went to a Haifa beach on Saturday, but I stayed home to take it easy during my recovery from food poisoning. While I read most of a novel, the large beach-going group—comprising Tal's family (minus Ofer), mother, and brother's family, in addition to my own family—took in the rays, with (I think) the only damage being some minor sunburns on Amelia.

Ofer returned Saturday evening, early enough to do some chatting. Sunday we had to head to the airport early enough that there wasn't time for much, although Ofer was able to take us to a patisserie for some tasty baked goods—arguably not as good as what we can get in Brussels, but still quite good, and probably better than what can generally be found in the States. Then we made a late (but fortunately not too late) departure for the airport: an official at our first security point told us bluntly we were late, and by the time we got to the gate boarding was mostly completed. The girls' behavior on the plane left room for improvement, shall we way, but we (mostly Naomi) managed ok.

In summary, it was a lovely trip, busy, but not overly so. I expected more bonding with Israel, but instead got more bonding with relatives; this in in contrast to my first and only other visit to Israel, in '97, in which my bonding was in the opposite order. But I think both kinds of bonding are good, and I hope my kids bonded in both ways.

Now before the observations, a small vignette: Our checked baggage allowance was 20 kg per person, and although we had 4 people we only had 2 checked bags, so I did my best, without a scale, to keep each bag under 20 kg. At check-in in Brussels, the weights of the bags were 19.2 kg, and 19.8 kg. Incredible! you say. Yup, I was pretty proud of myself. But, once in Israel, Ofer convinced me that the total is the key (i.e. less than 4 × 20 kg = 80 kg for us), and not 20 kg per bag. His theory was born out when, on our return check-in, a bag tipped the scales at 24 kg, with nary a consequence.

Observations:

• Israeli drivers were as bad as advertised. Very aggressive, and apparently very blind! In addition, motorcyclists loved riding the dividing lines between highway lanes, and I always thought how easy it would be for one of these blind Israeli car drivers to switch lanes without warning just as a motorcyclist tried to pass by.


• The traffic light cycle was very involved. Instead of green / yellow / red, it was green / flashing green / (short) yellow / red / red & yellow together. So there are two warning phases before stop, and one warning phase before go.


• We were advised a GPS was unnecessary, and at 55 NIS ($14) per day it was certainly expensive. Our experience partly bore this out, but there are two caveats: (1) you want maps or advance online route planning, and (2) a GPS sure is helpful in the big cities (Haifa, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv at least).


• Dog poo was overly present on sidewalks and in playgrounds, even more so than what we've seen in Belgium and elsewhere around Europe. This is a little surprising because, in some cities in Israel, you can apparently be fined for walking a dog if you don't obviously have the wherewithal to dispatch your dog's dispatches, let alone if you don't clean up after your dog. Oh, well, at least it dries quickly in Israel!


• Much of the northern half of the country seemed green, but a green reclaimed from the desert, as opposed to a green natural to the land. While in Israel, I was impressed at how green it was; but on the plane home, I was sitting next to two Germans, and as we flew over Germany and Belgium, seeing vast green spaces out the windows, they remarked to each other how they were happy to be heading back to the rich flora of home. It suddenly struck me how the vegetation in Israel—impressive in its own right: agriculture is huge there—was no match for the lushness of Europe.


• For breakfast we sometimes ate the Israeli version of Cocoa Puffs, called Cocomon Kedorim, which on the box was translated into English as Cocoman Balls. I think this translation may have unintentionally picked up a little extra connotation—and hilariously so!