This entry is the final in a series of twelve daily posts, reflecting on the twelve days of my trip with my father to Israel in September 2011…

“Day 12… or, the long trip home”

Stayed at the kibbutz, at Rina’s last night, though didn’t sleep.  Drove to the airport a bit after midnight.  5am flight out of Tel Aviv, with a two-hour layover in Amsterdam before reaching NYC.  Thought about exiting and reentering customs in Amsterdam, just for the stamp on the passport, but decided against it.

Hoping Mom’s able to pick us up from the airport so I can see her for a little bit before driving back to DC this evening.

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It was Thursday, day 10, that we realized we were ready for the vacation to end.  Not that we weren’t still having fun together, or enjoying the time, or seeing good things – just that we were ready to get back to real life.  My father turned to me and said “You know, I’m having a great time, but I’m ready to go home.  I miss the house, I miss your sister, and I really miss your mother.”  He said it first, but I was thinking the same thing.  Enjoying vacation still, of course, but ready to get back to real life and the normal routine again in a few days.

I guess two weeks is a long time to be away from your normal life.  There are some things that I thought would stick with me, but I haven’t thought about twice, like work – and there are things I didn’t think I’d care about that keep coming to mind and staying there.  There are people I thought I’d be thinking about who, now that I consider it, haven’t crossed my mind since being here – and then there have been daily reminders of a few folks I didn’t think would come up or I hadn’t thought about in a long time.  Funny how some time away changes your perspective on things.

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Had three cups of coffee today… which makes thirty-eight cups over the twelve-day trip.  That’s healthy, right?

This entry is the eleventh in a series of twelve daily posts, reflecting on the twelve days of my trip with my father to Israel in September 2011…

Following the theme for much of the trip so far, this morning consisted of a lavish breakfast at Yosi’s followed by more coffee with Cousin Meir in Tel Aviv before heading back up to Kibbutz Mizra.  Four cups of coffee today.

This entry is the tenth in a series of twelve daily posts, reflecting on the twelve days of my trip with my father to Israel in September 2011…

Spent this afternoon in Tel Aviv finally.  Yosi helped us find (led us to) the Benjamin Station Market – the most quintessential mix of food stalls, restaurants, and artist vendors.  Had great hummus at lunch, as usual, and a great time checking out the market.  Would love to return if there were an opportunity.  Also finally picked up some halva – first of the trip.  Delicious.

Just one downside to the trip has occurred to me:  If I die, years from now, from anything related to secondhand smoke, I’ll know it traces back to this trip.  Everyone smokes, and smokes a lot, indoors, outdoors, morning, night, constantly.  Everyone drinks tons of coffee too – though that seems a bit less unhealthy.  (Speaking of which… three cups for me today.)

This entry is the ninth in a series of twelve daily posts, reflecting on the twelve days of my trip with my father to Israel in September 2011…

There’s something a bit surreal about driving through the Israeli countryside, listening to the radio play “Sweet Home Alabama.”  Wonder whether folks here know what it’s actually talking about, beyond the catchy tune… ‘course, gotta wonder if most of the folks singing along in any bar back in the States know either.

Then again, maybe humming along to Sweet Home Alabama in the car shouldn’t be so odd.  The drive from Jerusalem down to the Dead Sea is a two-and-a-half-hour winding ride crossing a half-dozen or so highways and through both the countryside and, later, the Israeli dessert.  Taking the trip, windows down, sunglasses on, radio turned up, Sweet Home Alabama playing loud, Dad in the driver’s seat… well, not so bad at all.

The final approach to the Dead Sea is a descent through the dessert to the lowest point on Earth, some 400 meters below sea level, and takes us past Mount Massada before arriving.  The town around the sea itself is the epitome of a resort town and tourist trap, but I’m glad we went, even if it was only a quick visit – would’ve felt silly if we’d come so far and not seen it again.

I’ve begun picking up on and following more of the conversations my father has with people in Hebrew.  I certainly don’t actually understand the language, but you start picking up on familiar words, phrases, gestures, and intonations in any language after a while.  Still very much on the outside of these conversations though.

Finished one of the books I brought with me tonight – “This Is Where I Leave You” by Jonathan Tropper.  First fiction novel I’ve had time to read in years, a recommendation from Ori.  Can’t thank her enough for the suggestion – was absolutely fantastic.

Only three cups of coffee today.  Slow day.

This entry is the eighth in a series of twelve daily posts, reflecting on the twelve days of my trip with my father to Israel in September 2011…

Wound up scrapping our plans to catch a tour-bus this morning, instead driving over to the Yad Vashem – the official Holocaust Museum/Memorial – ourselves.  I won’t oversimply the museum here by attempting to describe it, only saying that it’s an incredibly well-designed museum and a deeply-moving experience.  Even wound up learning a bit more about my own family’s history while walking around with Dad.

Dinner was at another simple Israeli restaurant again.  Dad and I split the “mixed grill” along with a variety of salads.  Only after tasting everything did we learn that the “mixed grill” meats included chicken spleen – which is actually really good.  Dinner also included a side of mjedera, a Lebanese lentil and rice dish that I first learned of when Erich made his grandmother’s recipe for us in DC a few years ago.  Today’s wasn’t as good as his.

Four cups of coffee today.  Twenty-five on the trip.

This entry is the seventh in a series of twelve daily posts, reflecting on the twelve days of my trip with my father to Israel in September 2011…

“Day 7… or, the one in which I sort of live-tweet the day”

Quick update on today.  More like a series of tweets than one cohesive blog post…

Travelled from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem today.  Much less scenic a drive than the one from Haifa to Tel Aviv yesterday, which took us down the Mediterranean coastline of the country.  The final approach to Jerusalem, climbing the mountains to the city, is pretty though.

Checked into our hotel, then walked to the Old City.  Got falafel for lunch, and made our way to the Western Wall.  Dad had a minor freak-out when we got separated temporarily – he walked away while I was taking a photo and didn’t hear me say I’d be a few steps behind him; I reminded him that I’m 27-years-old and we’re both carrying phones, just in case, but it’s funny that he still worries.

Had my pocketknife taken from me by security at the Wall, told it was too long to be legal in Israel.  Not a big deal – it cost me three dollars in a store in Rhode Island on my last vacation with my family last summer – but I feel naked without it.  Weird sensation.

Dinner was at a simple Middle Eastern restaurant we stumbled upon – kabobs, rice, salad, tahina – followed by coffee (only two cups today) in a neighborhood seemingly filled with recent college graduates.  The girls in Jerusalem seem nice.  I like it here.

Left our GPS in my back pocket at dinner – a really dumb move – and broke the screen.  Still works fine, but won’t be able to resell it.  Disappointing, but no big deal either – I’ve wasted more money on far sillier things before.

This entry is the sixth in a series of twelve daily posts, reflecting on the twelve days of my trip with my father to Israel in September 2011…

“Day 6… or, the one in which I finally get used to seeing my face (oh, and am inspired by the generosity of relative strangers)”

Woke up in Haifa this morning before we left for Tel Aviv.  While showering and getting ready, glanced in the mirror and realized I was finally used to what I was seeing, finally not shocked by not seeing a beard.  Finally used to the relatively-bare face, but that doesn’t mean I like it.  Little stubble’s grown in, but I miss having a full beard and feel naked without it.  Silly maybe.

Drove from Haifa to Tel Aviv, with a stop through ancient Caesarea on the way.  Nothing special to remark on, aside from lots of quality time spent in the car with Dad – the theme for this entire trip.

Had dinner in the port of Jaffa, overlooking the beach, with Cousin Meir and Uncle Meir’s friend Yosi.

This entry is the fifth in a series of twelve daily posts, reflecting on the twelve days of my trip with my father to Israel in September 2011…

“Day 5… or, the one in which I’m on my way to being a sabre”

A sabre is a fruit native to the Middle East, the fruit of the cactus.  Has needles on the outside, like a cactus, but sweet and juicy on the inside.  Apparently, Israelis identify with the fruit and are frequently referred to as sabres – prickly and aggressive on the outside, but sweet and friendly on the inside.  According to Dad and Manucha, I’m on my way.

Went up to Akko (also Acco, or Acre), one of the old Mediterranean port cities.  Lots of old buildings, alley bazaars, antiquities, and, of course, great food.  Lunch, in addition to the normal lavish spread of hummus, tahina, and Middle Eastern salads, included our first fish, pan-fried after being caught in the local harbor next-door.

On the drive home, rode through the Haifa port and downtown, then up through the gorgeous Baha’i Gardens.  As I mentioned yesterday, it’s great that we rented a car – it’s made exploring and visiting much easier and more fun.  Ended the day with Manucha again.  When she heard we were back in Haifa, she insisted on picking us up, so she could show us the Baha’i Gardens again (the time at night, with the night view down into the lit-up downtown) and the Haifa beach.  Dinner was on the beach also.

And again, a few unrelated thoughts, observations:

• Energy drinks – two, in particular, “Blu” and “XL” – are even more popular here than back in the States.  They’re advertised everywhere I turn, and I don’t know if I’ve seen a schoolchild walking in the streets without one in hand.
• Only two cups of coffee today.  Fourteen for the trip so far.
• Sharing a beer or two, with your father, while sitting on a patio overlooking the city, is great.
• I’ve remarked before that, almost every time I spend time with my father, I leave with new stories of his past.  He normally responds with “no, you know everything by now,” then tells a new – and usually ridiculous – story.  Tonight’s story over dinner, for instance, ended with “and that’s the time the authorities were waiting for me at the airport.”