Third Age Traveler

BERMUDA'S BEACHES--MAGNIFICENT! (Part 2)

2011-11-30T22:27:00.001-05:00

Bermuda’s beaches are extraordinary. They make for an ideal vacation. The most famous is Horseshoe Bay. Given enough time, we could travel from beach to beach; each one is more spectacular than the next. I actually brought a list of beaches, some with trails leading from one to the other, some small with quiet, seldom-visited coves, some with incredible rock formations, and some with long curved stretches of beautiful sand and magnificently colored water.

This photo is NOT retouched. These colors are REAL! Gorgeous, isn't it?

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Pretty Amazing! I can lie on the beach and look out at this ALL DAY!

Unfortunately, we have time to visit just two: the famous Horseshoe Bay Beach, and Snorkel Park.

This is beautiful Horseshoe Bay. No question why it is so popular with tourists.

We take the bus from King’s Wharf to Horseshoe Bay, and that gives us another opportunity to see more residential areas. This is the most popular beach, and I have read reviews complaining of crowds. Maybe in early June we are not fully into high season, and the beach is not crowded at all.

Even the beach umbrellas add a colorful gaity to the day. This is too beautiful.

We rent beach chairs and an umbrella, but we do a lot of walking along this beautiful curved beach. The water is LOVELY. It’s calm with a gentle fine, sandy slope, and the sand is soft underfoot. Little coves by the rock formations are beautiful.

These are incredible rock formations

We also take the bus back to Kings Wharf from Horseshoe Bay—a slight waiting line, but everyone is happy and pleasantly tired from a day at the beach. Just look at these photos of Horseshoe Bay.

The water is clear and spectacular

The rocks are high, but the setting is so serene, people were not afraid to climb.

The colors just continue to WOW!

Alas, it is time to leave this magnificent beach

On the day we are to sail, we stay in the Dockyards, stop at some of the shops and then head to Snorkel Park, only minutes from our ship. We can't miss the sailing, and we don't want to worry about transportation or changing out of wet bathing suits. Once again, I had read reviews complaining about crowds and costs at Snorkel Park, but the beach is not crowded and the entry fee is reasonable. I often wonder why people feel everything (when they have to be maintained) should be free. The rental costs for chairs and an umbrella are also reasonable. The attendant carries the chaise lounges down for us. We find a wonderful spot, uncrowded, and the water is calm and beautiful. We have views out to sea, the beautiful fortress buildings, and here we were able to put on our snorkel gear and see some beautiful fish.

This is Snorkel Beach, just a short walk from our ship.

This is a lovely gently sloping beachfront wonderful for a family too.

We have a nice, leisurely lunch in Snorkel Park’s restaurant, get in some last minute water time, and then, regretfully, it is time to board our ship, just a few minutes' walk away. Cannot think of a better way to end our Bermuda stay.

Here's a view of the restaurant and shaded seating areas and more of the beautiful waterfront.

This is another wonderful trip. It is for our 40th wedding anniversary, and we love it.

I recommend our ship, the Norwegian Gem, for people who have not done much cruising. Overall, we felt it lacked the kind of special attention we’ve experienced on other cruises. While the ship offered all the amenities one could ask for, we felt crowded at some venues and oftentimes, particularly at some of the mealtimes, a lack of coordination between the staff. On the other hand, the overall entertainment was superb—perhaps the best consistency we’ve experienced. We chose this ship because it left from NYC and stayed at Kings Wharf, and I was probably remiss in not checking further. Nothing bad, I add, but somehow something was missing. Nothing that in any way spoiled the event.

We are not sure we’ll return to Bermuda. During its high season, we’re doing wonderful things here at home, gardening, golfing, swimming, etc. I long for that beach during our winter, and unfortunately Bermuda is not in season then. I say this with sadness because it is so special.

It was nice coming back into New York Harbor and seeing the Statue of Liberty waiting to greet us. It was wonderful getting through customs, getting our car, and being on the West Side Highway in less than half an hour. HELLOOOOOOO New York.

2011-11-26T21:15:00.000-05:00

Bermuda Part I

Everyone should go to Bermuda! At least once! Before you ever set eyes on a tropical island, the one you imagine is Bermuda. It is a place of pastel colors as well as of colors bright and vivid. It is a place of beautiful beaches, sparkling waters, gardens and flowers, friendly people, colorful homes, British influences, Gombey dancers, and peaceful, beautiful nights. It’s small enough to be easily accessible and big enough to offer diversity. It really is a tropical paradise.

But don’t think Bermuda and Caribbean; Bermuda is about 1,000 miles north of the Caribbean. It is in the North Atlantic, and it is warmed by the Gulf Stream. It has a second flaw. It lies just about 600 miles east of the Carolinas, so it is not a year-round summer paradise. Unfortunately. Natives will tell you the swim season is from the end of May until September. Sound familiar? I’m afraid so. So think about Bermuda as you would think about the Carolinas. And go. You will not be disappointed.

Rob and I sail from NYC for a week’s cruise on Norwegian Line’s Gem. This cruise offered two particular plusses. It sailed from Manhattan, and it docked at King’s Wharf, also known as the Royal Naval Dockyard, in Bermuda for the entire stay giving us total freedom of movement—a floating hotel.

We could easily spend our entire vacation on Bermuda beaches—a new and beautiful beach each day, but the temptation to explore proves irresistible, especially when there is a Segway involved! I love these things and wish I had one at home.

After meeting our guide, we begin with the area right around the Dockyards and learn a little about the island’s background. We visit the main fort, The Keep, and ride around much of the 24 acres. It's beautifully done in stone, and many of the buildings have been converted into restaurants and shops featuring local artisans. There is also the Bermuda Clay Works. We actually visit these places later on during our visit, as we keep riding those Segways!

Off we go, down the road past the walls where visiting ships’ crews leave their signs to let others know they’ve been there.

Off into the country we pass one inviting beach after another, lots of flora and fauna, and wild chickens that roam the island. We actually taste and/or smell some of the plants, and our guide makes it a fun guessing game to see if we recognize the very herbs we use at home but which grow here.

There is only one other couple on the tour; I guess Segways are still a bit off-putting for some people. It certainly works to our advantage as we zip along the roads or follow nature’s unpaved trails through the garden-like parks. We pass brightly colored homes. Everything is sparkling clean and inviting.

Even the cemetery has a beautiful view.

When our tour is over, we walk back to the ship and pass a Moongate, a wedding band-shaped arch. Couples who kiss under Bermuda’s Moongates are assured of a long and happy life together. We, of course, seal our happiness beneath it.

Snorkeling is a passion, and we book what seems to be a great tour, but unfortunately the weather turns against us, and it is too rough to go to the wrecked ships. Our inventive guide takes us to another location as well as narrates a great tour of the island from the boat. Again, we are with only one other couple, so touring like this is up front and personal. We do get to do some snorkeling in the most beautiful sparkling teal water I’ve ever seen. Of course I’ve said this before at other sites, but suffice it to see, this experience among the coral was memory-making.

So we have toured quite a bit of Bermuda by land on a Segway and then by water on the snorkeling tour. It is early Wednesday, and as we are heading to Hamilton by bus, we are going to see Bermuda from another vantage point.

Hamilton on Wednesday nights means Harbor Nights, a weekly festival of music, Gombey dancing, crafts, food, and fun.

The public bus ride from King’s Wharf is wonderful. The uniformed school children are on the bus, many carrying their cricket bats. We pass more residential sections and small stores and clubs as well as some lovely beaches, hotels and marinas. B stands for Bermuda and also for boats.

Our driver lets us off in the middle of Hamilton where another cruise ship is docked. Hamilton is a pastel city for the most part, although some building are in the rich, deep colors we see in New England. The contrast is strikingly beautiful. All is immaculately clean and inviting. We spend the remainder of the afternoon wandering around, stopping for a coffee, and people watching. Motorcycle seems to be the preferred mode of transportation, and yes, Bermuda shorts are worn by many of the businessmen. It is familiar yet different. It is beautiful.

Let's not forget Bermuda's British heritage. This bobby is probably more for the tourists than for practicality.

We walk along the waterside and see lovely boats, and up into Storywalk Park where one can follow the signs associated with a children’s tale. Here we spend some time sitting under shade trees and talking. The leisurely pace is lovely.

As the afternoon slowly eases into evening, we head back toward the center of town past booths that have miraculously appeared, and we follow the music to a wide street. Coming down in a serpentine dance are the colorfully costumed Gombey dancers, Bermudians of all ages in costumes resembling bird plumage.

Gombey is a mixture of British, West African, and indigenous new-world cultures. The dancers are accompanied by young men playing a variety of drums.

As they reach the bottom of the street, they move into a plaza surrounded by the crowd where they perform interpretive dances, vigorous and thumping, all very intriguing. Then, they make their way back up the hill into the night.

We visit the booths along the wharf, and I do pick up a memento or two. And then we take the ferry back to Kings Wharf. What was nice about the ferry was the ability to bring your bicycle if that were your mode of transportation. There are many bike trails on Bermuda. As we leave the city by water, we have lovely views of Hamilton in the twilight as well as of boats coming home for the night. Yes, it is paradise, albeit a bit crowded on the ferry, but not irritatingly so, just a lot of people heading home for the night.

Here's a travel tip for Bermuda. You notice that on the two tours we took, we were accompanied by just one other couple. Normally when we cruise, we book our tours through the ship, but here we did not. We were docked so we could conveniently get off the ship: no tender and no waiting for the ship's shore excursions to leave. I did a lot of research about these tours, consulting Trip Advisor, Cruise Critic, and Frommer's. I know we had a far better experience doing it this way. I don't recommend this method for every cruise, but I do for Bermuda.

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GETTYSBURG BLUEGRASS FESTIVAL--THERE WAS SINGIN' IN THE RAIN

2011-09-04T14:19:00.000-04:00

That sea of umbrellas protecting concert goers is an indication of how special The Gettysburg Bluegrass Festival is to those of us who love this type of music.

We're somewhere back under a huge tent--nice and dry!

BTW, you won’t see Rob’s or my umbrella. At this, our third Festival, we came prepared. We set up reclining chairs and our little Eddie Bauer table out on a small field with a wonderful view of the stage and at a distance where the music is clear and sweet. Then, we set up a second set of chairs under the huge tented area parallel to our original setup. So I write this as I listen, protected from the rain.

Music, a recliner, and a cozie-covered bottle of beer. I'm ready for plenty of bluegrass!

Pretty crummy, you might think, to take up so much space when you can’t be in two places at once, but this is the most incredible venue. It’s civil. People can set themselves up any place they wish. In fact, here at Granite Hill Camping Resort where the twice a year Festivals are held, if you are a camper and are here for the week, you can set up your chairs about a week in advance and no one will move them. Here is the rule: If your seat is empty, someone else can use it. Then if you come, that person will leave. Simple. Civil. Our seats are there for anyone when we are not. And when I want to get close to the stage to take photos or to be really close for a particular act, there are places for me to sit. In the three times we’ve attended this Festival, I’ve never seen any problem at all.

Rhonda Vincent & her son-in-law. Close to the stage is no problem at all.

I might add that this civility and respect extends to all aspects of the event. No one leaves so much as a piece of paper on the grounds. Because there are many children, we are asked to use cozies for our cans and bottles of beer. Yes, they sell them, but they’re not expensive. Nothing here is priced for gouging! Including the Festival.

This is for Rob

This is for me.

The Gettysburg Bluegrass Festival runs for four days. Rob and I come for two, Friday and Saturday. We cannot take advantage of the four or three-day passes, but our single day admission for each of the two days is only $35.00.

Anyway, this afternoon, after a lovely morning, the skies exploded in thunderous, wet fury. Some people up front simply opened their umbrellas; others put on ponchos, and others calmly drifted back to take empty seats here under the tent.

We were here when today’s music began at 11:00 AM, and we won’t leave tonight until after the last act which goes on at 11:20 PM. Yes, that’s for a $35.00 admission ticket. We’ll take none of our things with us, and tomorrow morning when we return, a mysterious gnome will have straightened the makeshift rows and filled in any empty spaces. Neat as a pin.

What about the quality of music, you might ask? Fantabulous! We see the finest bluegrass artists—grammy nominees and winners, artists given awards by Presidents, new and up-and-coming artists as well as seasoned veterans. It is phenomenal. If you are not a bluegrass fan already, go to Pandora or Jango. Then come here next May or August.

The Seldom Scene is probably the oldest group here. Ben (banjo) is 73. Their name is based on the fact that the original members jammed in someone's basement. They were all professional men enjoying their music. They began getting calls to play but essentially they were "Seldom Scene." And then they took off. You just have to listen once to know why!

Bluegrass is WYSIWYG music. What You See Is What You Get. In a rare and unholy occasion, a musician uses an electrified instrument, but 99.9% of the time, this is pure acoustic music or a’capella singing with the most incredibly delicious harmonies. No percussion, just strings. In the best music, the vocals are allowed to shine while the accompaniment fades into the background only to come back as the vocal fades away. The instruments are given an opportunity to shine individually, and the musicality is extraordinary. If you’re thinking of some weird looking guy pickin’ on a porch in Deliverance—think again. One group here, Next Best Thing, represents the seventh generation of bluegrass professionals. Most have studied music in universities across the country. There’s nothing amateurish in this crowd. Microphones are used, though, because you have a huge, huge, crowd of bluegrass worshippers all around.

Next Best Thing, a relatively new group, includes daughters of Rhonda Vincent and son from Cherry Holmes

If you think for a moment that this is not a serious convocation, think again. When they’re not performing, the artists run clinics for and schedule jams with attendees. It’s wonderful to see so many people carrying string instrument cases with them.

one of my favorite instruments is the dobro

Martin Guitar has a booth here. In fact, there is a drawing for a $4,000. Martin guitar at the end of the festival. The proceeds go to a bluegrass music school. As I said, this is serious music. Other booths sell mandolins, sheet music, and just about anything serious bluegrass requires.

Doyle Lawson is one of the bluegrass greats

OK. I head to T-shirts, refrigerator magnets and the like, but last year I did buy a sweetgrass hat I’ve been using. It has a lovely fresh grassy aroma, is crushable, and, therefore, packable.

The rain is becoming torrential, and the wind is whipping the rain toward the stage. They actually call an early 50 minute dinner break. What will we do? We check in at our hotel, but we are back when the music starts up. The rain has stopped, and bluegrass continues as if the weather had been beautiful all day. We stay until the end.

Saturday we'll be back. The music will be too but with a different lineup. The day runs the same time schedule, and once again it’s great. Does not get much better than this.

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TRAVELING BACK TO SEDONA, ARIZONA

2011-08-04T13:14:00.000-04:00

My mind goes back to our trip to Sedona, Arizona, probably because I've finally had the photos printed and have begun to put that trip into my albums. I went back to Third Age Traveler posts where I wrote about Sedona, (http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/05/sedona-arizona-wows-come-prepared.html), and once again, I was awed by the beauty of Red Rock Country and wanted to revisit the second part of the incredible GPS tour we took (for the first part of the tour, go to http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/05/touring-sedona-via-gps-works-for-us.html) —a tour we rented at the Visitor Center in downtown Sedona. The tour equipment plugs into our car’s speaker system guiding us and narrating as we go. We can stop as often as we wish. Our narrator is a fount of information.

The second leg of our GPS tour of Sedona is quite different from the first leg. This time we head south on Highway 179 to see the area in an entirely different way.

But before we get into the tour, Rob and I detour by turning up Schnebly Hill Road to the parking area at the point Schnebly Hill Road becomes a dirt road. I'd read about this overlook, and it is definitely a MUST STOP. We stay for about half an hour literally turning in circles and saying “Whoa!!!” From each vantage point, we are treated to a breathtaking view. Each movement provides a changing landscape of beauty as the sun dances across the rocks and tricks us into thinking what we've already seen is as good as it gets. At our feet the cactus becomes part of the Nature’s pageant.

Eventually we drive down to rejoin Highway 179 and continue our tour. We head toward the Village of Oak Creek. As this is the road by which we came into Sedona but going in the other direction, we now see the rock formations from a different angle, and from the GPS tour guide we learn their names: Bell Rock, Cathedral Rock, and Courthouse Rock.

Courthouse Rock and Bell Rock

Cathedral Rock

We take a left at the Chapel Road roundabout and head for the Chapel of the Holy Cross. Once again, our destination is nestled in spectacular surroundings, and we wind up a hill to reach it.

The Chapel of the Holy Cross has an interesting history. On a visit to New York City in 1932, Marguerite Bruswig Staude looked at the newly completed Empire State Building and felt that from a particular angle she could see a cross. She envisioned creating a monument just as inspirational, and when she was struck by Sedona's beauty, she decided to build her monument there. Completed in 1956, the Chapel is built on a twin-pinnacled spur 250 feet high jutting out of a thousand foot red rock wall. Impressive? You better believe it!

The politics are interesting too as this land was Federal Land. But oil the right wheels and.... She convinced Senator Barry Goldwater to pull enough strings to allow her to buy Federal land! And so it goes.

Nonetheless, no matter your personal religious beliefs, this is an inspiring sight and should be on a “must see” list. The Chapel rises dramatically, and the cross is magnificent as it is offset by the red rocks and blue sky behind it. At quiet times I'm sure there is an enormous sense of wonder and spirituality generated. The surrounding grounds are nicely kept with flowers and paths, and I can look down from these heights to see the valley and the most incredible home. Later I am told that it is the home of a doctor who owns laser clinics. I didn't Snopes this, but isn't this home something else?

Sedona is a spiritual community. It boasts 25 churches and synagogues, and each one is architecturally interesting and unique. These buildings could comprise a tour in itself. Sedona is a relatively new community, and most of the architecture is modern yet inspired by the awesome natural area in which it is constructed.

In addition to a traditional spirituality, Sedona is home to a New Age spirituality. My friend at the Chamber of Commerce said that approximately 10% of the members are concerned in some way with psychic powers or healing.

In fact, Sedona is famous for its vortexes—areas of energy that many claim to have healing or soothing powers. Researchers from MIT have investigated, and some claim the spiraling growth of some of the juniper trees is caused by the swirling and healthful energy. If you are in the area, you can even take vortex tours.

What these attributes do indicate is the wide, receptive, and harmonious atmosphere created as different ages and beliefs freely mingle in this beautiful environment.

Rob and I leave the Chapel, backtrack to rejoin Highway 179, and continue to the Village of Oak Creek, a bright residential community. We drive past the Golf Club which is actually highlighted on the GPS tour, and we stop in the Red Rock Coffeehouse for a local brew. Fresh? They order locally to insure that the coffee is delivered within 48 hours of roasting. The beans are ground just prior to preparation. It is nice to sit outside under the awning and savor our coffee.

The second part of the tour ends here. The third part would have taken us out to Boynton Pass—another “must see,” but that is also the route to Palatki Ruins, a destination we have later in the week. We decide we've had enough for the day. We have been driving and stopping and admiring and “Whoa-ing” for almost seven hours. Our senses are overloaded, and it's time to rest.

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TRAVEL TO THE SOUTH PACIFIC--WITH JAMES MICHENER--A READ YOU'LL NOT FORGET

2011-07-21T22:00:00.001-04:00

James Michener’s first book, Tales of the South Pacific, written in 1947 and based loosely on his own WWII experiences, earned a Pulitzer Prize and initiated a prolific writing career that left us a treasure trove of historical fiction.

Tales of the South Pacific is a series of loosely linked short stories, often featuring and developing the same characters as they evolve and react to their naval experiences on remote South Pacific islands.

Is this a war story? Yes.

Is this a story of human relationships? Yes.

Is this a story examining prejudices in society—between races, countries, and classes? Yes.

Is this a story that reveals how courage is shown and how heroes are made? Yes.

Is this a story that explores a world that existed more than half a century ago? Yes.

Is this more than any of these? Yes.

That’s why Tales of the South Pacific is such good reading. It’s true that Rogers and Hammerstein’s Broadway show, South Pacific, has its origins in Michener’s tales, but if that show is what you’re looking for, you will be sorely disappointed. This book is much bigger and broader in scope. Much as I love South Pacific, this is one more example of how much finer is the book.

Picture yourself in the military in WWII, a time when most people did not travel far from home and when there was no television to make the inaccessible accessible. You are stationed on Norfolk Island and meeting the descendants of the HMS Bounty mutineers. That mutiny actually occurred in 1789. Marlon Brando’s movie will not be made until 1962.

Picture being stationed for years on a tiny coral sliver where sailors are so bored they become suicidal. Picture refusing love and happiness because of the race of your love’s children. Picture giving up everything you know for love. Picture storming a beach to conquer an island. Picture startling and ancient religious ceremonies. Picture a military cemetery on a small, remote island in the middle of the South Pacific. Picture more.

Michener is able to make characters and settings become visual images for his reader who sees, in his mind’s eye, the glorious beauty of this infamous theater of war. Get to know the characters, the way they look, and more importantly, the way they think and develop throughout the book.

Michener presents a cross-section of humanity—from the rich to the poor, from the sophisticated to the simple, from the wise to the ignorant, and from the good to the bad.

Can you tell that I am a long-lived Michener fan?

Here’s another plus. This Michener novel is not one of his long ones; it runs about 300 pages which is just perfect as a travel companion. Tales of the South Pacific is a book well worth reading for enjoyment but which will deepen your understanding as well. What can be better?

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OUR LAST DAY--EILAT TO TEL AVIV--TRAVEL TO REMEMBER

2011-07-16T23:22:00.000-04:00

Leaving as few sights unseen as possible, even the last travel day of our Margaret Morse Tour is filled with wonder. It is time to return for our evening flights home from Tel Aviv. But just in case we still feel the urge for remembrances, we leave the beautiful Hilton Eilat Queen of Sheba Hotel and head for the Eilat Stone Factory where we see the stonecutter working with Israel’s national stone, malachite, often referred to as a cousin of turquoise. It’s beautiful.

view from our room--but we were in Petra, Jordan on the full day here and did not enjoy these amenities

Watching the stonecutter transform the rough stone into a polished gem is fascinating. Maybe mesmerizing is a better word as I do not leave the Stone Factory without a beautiful pair of earrings.

As our bus roars through the desert to our next stop, we see what Israel has done to make the desert bloom. In the 1990s, embankments were created near wadis, which are gullies, streambeds or valleys that are dry except in the rainy season, and trees were planted. Now those trees are beginning to come together to form forests in the desert. It is truly an amazing sight to behold when contrasted with the usual tan barrenness of the Negev Desert. On a sad note, today I wonder if the rich greenness was destroyed in Israel's devastating forest fires.

We stop for lunch at a palm oasis as we head toward Beer Sheva, Israel’s third largest city, the place where Abraham settled in 2,000 BCE and which King David made a part of Israel. It is too bad we did not have an opportunity to visit this ancient city where there is a weekly Bedouin market, and one can still buy camels and sheep. Indeed, 27,000 Bedouins still call the Negev their home. This would be a must-see on a return trip.

THAT'S A CAMEL CROSSING SIGN

Then we follow the road south through the central Negev through Mitzpe Ramon, often referred to as a crater but which is actually the world’s largest "machtesh," a valley surrounded by steep walls and drained by a single wadi or riverbed.

THE VAST EMPTINESS IS AWESOMELY HANDSOME

THESE ARE THE WALLS OF THE MACHTESH

Picture this: Mitzpe Ramon started forming when the oceans that once covered the Negev began to recede leaving rocks estimated to be 220 MILLION YEARS OLD. Obviously it is an archeologist’s dream for it is filled with fossils and other ancient remains of civilizations that once inhabited this area. Indeed, the word "ramon" refers to the Romans. Look at this vast wilderness.

But remember this is the 21^st century, and modern man has modern ideas. Rappelling from these steep walls is a sport these days.

I DID NOT HAVE TO BE WARNED ABOUT THIS CLIFF EDGE

Visiting athletes require accommodations, and there is plenty of construction going on along the rim.

Remember the Nabateans of Petra who knew how to deal with this environment because they understood how to conserve water? (http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2011/06/jordan-and-petra-part-i.html) Our next stop is Avdat National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, named after a Nabatean king. It was the Nabateans, builders of Petra, who created a city here in the midst of a desert.

Along the way, however, we get to see some wild mountain gazelles, Israel’s national animal. Cute. They were just walking in, taking in the tourist sights—us.

As we approach the National Park, we see one of Avdat’s remaining structures atop a hill. Buildings like these were probably used as lookouts for caravans along this important trading route. Alongside the structure is a long, dark, metal sculpture of an approaching caravan. From far away it looks almost real. It’s impressive, and it piques my interest and imagination.

Today, in addition to the historical data, there is an experimental farm to study the way ancient peoples developed agriculture in the desert. If ancient man knew how to tame this vast barren land, then Israel might have something to learn in order to house her growing population.

The Nabateans were conquered by the Romans who did not develop further, but later the Byzantines brought Christianity to the area. A Byzantine church remains on the site. When the Muslims conquered the area in the seventh century, development ground to a halt, and the area remained that way until the British took over from the Ottoman Empire. Roads were paved from Beersheva to Eilat, and a new era began.

Most of the remaining structures, however, are not Nabatean but are Roman or Byzantine. Still pretty impressive to me.

Our next stop is Kibbutz Sde Boker where David Ben Gurion made his home in 1953 after retirement as Israel’s first Prime Minister. He is buried here, and on his grave are two birthdates. His real one was in Poland in 1888. The second is when he came to Israel in 1906 which for him was a true birth.

DAVID BEN GURION'S VIEW ACROSS THE NEGEV

David Ben Gurion is considered the architect of Israel. He took Hertzl’s Zionist ideas and made them a reality by organizing the Haganah (military), schools, and other necessities of a country.

Ben Gurion immigrated to Israel in 1906 where he began his new life organizing unions. The Ottomans expelled him. He came to New York, and he fell in love with American Democracy. People come here to study, and Ben Gurion's papers are in the Heritage Center here.

Ben Gurion walked the walk. When he retired, the people on the kibbutz wanted him to live with the special status he’d earned, but he insisted on living in a hut and working in the fields as all members of the kibbutz did. He did not stop working in the fields until he became ill and unable to continue.

The view from his burial site overlooks the Negev, the place he envisioned eventually in bloom and home to many. That dream is yet to be realized, but research goes on to make the dream a reality.

BEAUTIFUL DESOLATION

Sde Boker is certainly the intellectual climax of the day, but the emotional climax is arranged by Wendy Morse. Once again she has reserved a restaurant, and we share a final dinner with our tour-mates back in Tel Aviv before we part ways and head to our individual post-tour destinations.

Thank you, Margaret Morse Tours. Thank you Wendy Morse who accompanied us every step of the way and arranged special days and nights—dancing and music and entertainment, special presents—beautiful mezuzahs by an Israeli artist, special moments—our Bar and Bat Mitzvahs on Mt. Scopus with its panoramic views of Jerusalem, and even cds of the music we heard. Thank you David, Alan, and the other guides for your encyclopedic and enthusiastic presentations. Thank you for the new friends we made. Thank you Israel.

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GOOD READ, I GUARANTEE--KATHRYN STOCKETT'S---THE HELP

2011-07-08T22:34:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure Kathryn Stockett's The Help will be the new American classic, but I am sure that its theme resonates within its readers' hearts and minds. It is an important theme, and Stockett's treatment is unusual, propelling this first novel from the ordinary to #1 on the NYTimes bestseller list. It may be possible to count literature's great themes on one's fingers, but the superior writer is able to tackle her theme in a unique way. Kathryn Stockett does this; the result is The Help is a tough book to put down.

The “help” of the title are the black women who historically took care of the South's white families and were treated as non-existent even as they moved through the rooms of those white families' homes. The Help is set in Jackson, Mississippi, a city which gained fame during the Civil Rights period of the early 1960s. Its main characters are three extraordinary women who buck the system, perhaps through fate rather than by choice, and emerge stronger and more independent. The Help is also a book about women, regardless of race, coming into their own. Stockett's skillful development of these women's personalities raises them above stereotypes and allows each to emerge as a complete individual reacting to her times and situation in a personal manner.

Stockett's exposition comes through the voice of each character's immediate predicament. We enter the homes of white women in their early 20s who were raised by black women and now hire them to serve in their homes and raise their children. It's a strange relationship not easily understood by those of us totally unfamiliar with the South of the 1960s. We're made to understand a little better through our main characters, a white twenty-two year old, Skeeter, and two very different black women, Aibileen and Minny.

We are reminded of the time, 1963 and 1964, through the rock 'n roll of the era and the Civil Rights events that occur, events I distinctly remember but only with the eyes of a Northern teenager. Incredible as it may seem, as I read I began to see how whites could live both in the midst and apart from the incidents occurring around them. These white women's daily interactions with the black help did not change. Fully expecting the status quo to remain, they remain blinded to the historical changes occurring in their own back yards. Stockett does not stereotype southern women. The white women react to situations individually and according to their individual strengths and convictions.

The reactions of the black women are equally believable. Depending on their circumstances, their reactions differ. Their jobs and their livelihood are crucial, so how much they can be part of the Civil Rights movement happening around them varies from individual to individual. It's easy to say everyone should be involved; it's quite another thing when one’s livelihood is threatened by that involvement.

The individuality of each woman—black or white—is essential to the theme. We react as we do because we are all equal in our individuality.

If this were all there was to The Help, it would not have made the leap into a first rate book. Kathryn Stockett took each situation whether it involved class, marriage, civil rights, freedom, or understanding and skillfully made parallels between the black and white characters in the book. We are exposed to the complexity of relationships, the complexity of race, and the consequences of not dealing honestly, fairly, and openly with one another. We all bear the burdens caused by these shortcomings in society. We share a common humanity, for good or bad.

The Help is set nearly 50 years ago. Times have changed and so have some situations. But not everything has changed. It is important, periodically, to be reminded of how far we still have to go. Kathryn Stockett gently but firmly urges us to be better.

The Help will be out as a movie this August.

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PETRA --AN INCREDIBLE PART II

2011-07-01T22:39:00.000-04:00

I really like this!!! But I did take this photo in Petra.

It doesn’t get much better than Petra, Jordan, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and now considered one of the wonders of the ancient world. I cannot begin to post photos until I try to convey a portion of Petra’s timeline and history. Where we walk and what we see takes us to a time beyond our ken.

modern Petra--building and attracting many tourists

Here is a city dating back to 6,500-7,000 BCE, and evidence of that ancient community can still be examined! By the Iron Age, Petra was inhabited by the Edomites, but the real building of this great city was done by the Nabataeans, a nomadic Arab tribe impressed by the high protective canyons and the ample water supply that could be directed from above the city through channels and tunnels into cisterns to give the city life, so much life that it grew great as part of the major trade route linking China with Rome. A literate people, they left us calligraphy on the walls as a reminder of their civilization.

Rome eventually annexed Petra, introduced Christianity to the area, and there is evidence of at least three churches.

Petra was so fiercely guarded and lost to the Western world after the 15th century that it was only “re-discovered” in 1812 by a Swiss traveler posing as an Arab coming to offer a sacrifice to the prophet Aaron. The world is the benefactor of that deception.

To reach the major part of the ancient city, we walk more than half a mile downhill to and then through The Siq, a narrow .6 mile long gorge flanked by tall cliffs. The rock formations are enchanting and colorful as if some painter of nature exercised every color in his palette.

a horse-drawn cart bringing visitors back up through the Siq

We pass tombs and monuments, but we are not prepared for the magnificent sight of The Treasury, an incredible façade carved into the mountains and whose decorations indicate that it was carved from the bottom to the top. Treasury is the modern name.

Was it a memorial? A temple? No one knows. What every visitor does know, however, is that this is awesome, a sight that causes one’s jaw to drop in wonder. Think of it--an ancient people using the rudimentary tools of their age to sculpt detail and beauty that we can enjoy THOUSANDS OF YEARS later.

Fans of Indiana Jones might recognize the façade from the final scenes of the Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Experiencing the full wonder of Petra requires three or four days. We had a scant few hours, and my walk downhill had to be followed by another mile or so uphill, so with sad resignation I did not venture much further into the city. Rob, however, continued to walk and saw some cliff dwellings and other monuments and buildings carved into the cliffs’ walls.

I walked back up the Siq, but seized the opportunity to ride a horse for some distance. Wow! An Arabian stallion! Not quite I think by the looks of him, but he was beloved by me.

After dismounting, I still had a way to go uphill to the Jordanian tour bus, but it had been a glorious visit! Once again I was transported back in time, awed by ancient man’s accomplishments. I walked in his footsteps and on his roadways and was touched in a way I will never forget.

Off the record, there were carts to bring people back uphill, but it looked like an incredibly jarring ride over the rocks and cobblestones. I had the feeling the drivers enjoyed messing with the tourists!

Camel rides were available.

It is important to know that Petra requires significant walking, and a lot of it is uphill. And it is hot.

Depending how one looks at it, there are the ubiquitous memento shops. See anything tempting?

As we drive back through the modern city of Petra, we see men, women, and children going about their daily business. We see the mixture of old and new as this city grows and changes to meet the onslaught of tourists. New hotels are springing up everywhere as are homes and roads and new sidewalks with trees beautifying them.

We stop at Petra’s Magic Restaurant for a late lunch. It is a marvelous Jordanian smorgasbord. Then I doze on the long ride back to the border.

My advice—if you are in this part of our world, don’t pass up a chance to visit Petra. Bring your camera, good walking shoes, a walking stick, and a few bottles of water.

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JORDAN AND PETRA - PART I

2011-06-26T21:12:00.000-04:00

The late King Hussein and his son, the present King Abdullah II

Our hotel in Eilat is magnificent, but we haven’t time to enjoy it; we’re taking the optional trip across the border to Petra in Jordan.

Petra is arguably one of the most remarkable places on earth. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the undisputed chief tourist attraction in Jordan. Reading about it did not begin to prepare me for its unbelievable wonders or the total amazement I felt viewing the work of a long-vanished people, the Nabataeans who built the city and turned it into an important part of the trade routes followed by silk and spice merchants of the world. There is no way we could be in this part of the world and hang around a hotel instead of coming here!

We leave Eilat at 7:00 AM and by 7:45 AM we’ve passed through the Yitzhak Rabin Israeli checkpoint at the border. This checkpoint was first opened in 1994. We leave the Israeli tour bus on their side and walk on road leading to the Jordanian border where we surrender our passports to Jordanian security. It is a bit movie-land eerie.

The Jordanians direct us across the street to sit or stand around a little store that sells souvenirs and drinks. The benches and tables seem coca cola covered and are thick with flies. It’s desert hot and uncomfortable.

We do not get through the Jordanian checkpoint until 9:00 AM. An Israeli accompanies us. He has collected $10.00 from each of us to give to the Jordanian tour bus guide. In addition to the Jordanian guide on our bus is a member of the Jordanian Tourist Police. He said nothing to us during the trip, but he was with us, and his presence was felt. The distance from Aqaba, the southernmost city in Jordan and right across the border from Eilat, Israel, to Petra is approximately 98 miles. For us it will be a two-hour drive.

From the border station onward there are pictures, banners, and signs of both King Hussein who died in 1999, and his son, the present King Abdullah II.

Construction is going on everywhere in Aqaba. Both Aqaba and its neighboring Israeli city, Eilat, border on the Red Sea. Eilat is about 3,000 years old and was once a major port. Today its main business is tourist business. The new city of Eilat was established in 1950. Aqaba, too, is an ancient city, the only seaport city in Jordan. It is even mentioned in the Bible. Today, Aqaba is undergoing major construction to enhance its port potential to develop itself as a manufacturing hub and to build its tourist industry particularly as sites like Petra and Wadi Rum become more appealing to tourists. What we see today is the birth of a modern city.

As our bus begins the ascent into the mountains, we are once again treated to the harsh nature of the desert environment, the same environment that exists on the other side of the border. The mountains have a stark beauty. The rocks are colorful and striated. It is a haunting landscape devoid of roads other than our main one. Some of the rock formations remind me of Sedona, Arizona.

We pass a second check point further into the country, but this is just a brief stop.

As we drive, our excellent Jordanian guide tells us about his country. Jordan is ruled by the Hashemite family, direct descendants of Mohammed. Most of the population lives in the north (we are in the south), and the majority of the population are of Bedouin ancestry. Despite the Jordanian government’s attempt to settle them in cities (as the Israel government does) in order to provide them with educational, medical and other social services, some still resist and as in Israel, we passed Bedouin encampments that seemed communities of squalor.

The towns, too, seem very poor. Of course we are seeing only a tiny part of Jordan, but it is a sad contrast to the towns we passed in Israel.

In some research I did, I learned that Bedouin encampments last for months at a time and that Bedouins have shunned most modern developments. Some have added trucks which they use to transport their animals to the next encampment, and some use plastic water containers for convenience. Certainly no visitor passing through this area can do so without thinking of this people and how modernity might impact the very core of their lives.

It is quite a while before we come into towns. The tallest building is the recognizable mosque, and in the towns some homes surrounded by silver leafed olive trees. We are told these are the prosperous residents. The houses are sometimes the sand color but sometimes brightly painted in pinks and teals.

The town of Petra is built into the mountainside, and the roads steeply wrap around. Our guide tells us about the building going on in town to expand the number of resorts and hotels for tourists. We’re able to take pictures through the window as we pass through town, but we are really anxious to get to the wonder of the ancient world.

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LOWS AND HIGHS - THE DEAD SEA AND MASADA

2011-05-20T20:40:00.002-04:00

The Dead Sea is the lowest place on earth. It’s roughly 1,300 feet below sea level, and it’s about 1,400 feet deep. It’s an amazing place, unlike any place I’ve been on this planet. It is fed by the Jordan River, and because of its tremendously high evaporation rate, it produces large amounts of raw chemicals used throughout the world in agriculture, medicine, and manufacturing.

You can’t sink in the Dead Sea because of the high concentration of salt, and the minerals in the water, the highest concentration in the world. While no fish can live in this environment toxic to them, the waters and minerals are used to relieve sufferers of psoriasis or arthritis. Visitors use the mud or relax in the Sea for its therapeutic value. The desert area has many spas and resorts catering to those seeking relief.

Historically, the area housed fugitives like David and Jesus, and nearby were the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. Aristotle, King Solomon, the Queen of Sheba, and Cleopatra were all familiar with this place, so coming here and going in this water really is a trip and a half.

We were warned not to go in the Sea if we had cuts because of the high salt content, and it was suggested that people not shave nor do anything to scrape or irritate their skins. I did not go in because I had recent surgery, but I really enjoyed the visit. We walked along the beach, dipping our toes. The water had an almost oily feel. The report from our friends on our Margaret Morse tour was that no one felt any stinging from the water.

We were also warned about not putting our heads in the water. The warning was accompanied by a story about Sylvester Stallone who was filming a movie in the area. Despite the same warning, Stallone decided to do the macho bit. He went running into the sea as many do at the ocean, dove headfirst into the water and swallowed some of this saline, mineral-filled water. He ended up in a hospital for quite some time. Maybe Rocky got hit in the head one too many times.

Visitors travel the considerable distance from the main building to the waterfront via a road or on a tram. There’s no animal life around; it’s far too toxic. We pass a salt water pool, mud baths, showers, and other relaxing spots before reaching the sea where there are chairs at water’s edge and shelters in which to find some shade. The Dead Sea is shrinking, and there are signs marking the water lines that were there once. There are shaded places in the water with hammocks—not that you need hammocks. You can’t sink. You need to wear water shoes because you are walking not on sand but on mineral deposits, and some are quite large and crystalline and beautiful.

This is beautiful, but imagine walking on these without water shoes.

Doesn’t sound delightful? Well, it’s certainly not the seaside most of us envision. Still, it works on so many levels it remains a thrill.

I left the Dead Sea with the same feeling of awe I’d experienced so many times since alighting in Tel Aviv. We continued through the Judean Desert toward Eliat to our next stop, Masada!

On the way to Masada we passed a few Bedouin camps. Israel would like the Bedouins to move into cities where they will be eligible for the beneficent social programs the government offers. The Bedouin animals, specifically the sheep, eat the grass down the roots making it impossible for the land to prosper. The Bedouins set up their temporary camps, but as one can see, they live in squalor. More and more are turning to the cities where there are educational and medical facilities to accommodate their needs.

Can you imagine ancient man building a fortress atop this mountain?

Masada is one more point where history takes over in its most dramatic way, and the sense of Jewish history becomes palpable and excruciating. Masada is more than a place; it is a state of mind. This fortress was built by Herod high above the desert. As we approach, I am amazed at the size and height of the mountain. It was something for which my imagination did not prepare me.

From Masada, ancient Jews held off the Roman army in a seige lasting three years. In 70 CE after Rome destroyed Jerusalem and the Second Temple, remaining Zealots escaped to Masada. They entered their siege and taunted the Romans even as the Romans constructed the battering rams and catapults that would eventually allow them to enter the compound only to find that the 960 Jews had committed suicide rather than face defeat and the executions, rapes, and slavery defeat entailed.

The Talmud does not deal with the story of Masada, so our knowledge comes from Flavius Josephus, a man hated by the Jews because of his Roman ties but who turned out to be a marvelous historian (see my article on the Jerusalem model http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2011/04/israel-museum-jerusalem-circa-66-ce.html.) Josephus gained his information from two surviving women.

See the Snake Path in the shadow of our cablecar?

Before our trip, Rob and I watched the movie starring Peter O’Toole. We had an inkling of the history, but when we arrived and looked up at this gigantic stronghold, our jaws dropped. The “Snake Path” traveled blithely by both camps in the movies is actually a steep, narrow, twisting open rope of a road that leaves a traveler open to detection from either side. We’re spared the climb though we saw hearty hikers on the Path. Visitors take a cable car from the base of the mountain to the top. There we walk around following the guide and examine the excavations.

Indeed, it was not until the early 1960s that excavation began, and within five years just about everything needed to be known about Masada was unearthed. Over the course of time, earthquakes destroyed the area, but today one can see a line stretching across the stones. Below the line is the original building; above the line is restored.

All the stones were local. When Herod built this incredible fortress with palaces and luxuries between 37 and 31 BCE, the stones were plastered over and polished to look like marble. We have seen that earlier in the trip, but here we see what happens when the plaster is removed.

This must have been magnficent. Below the blue line all is original.

One can only imagine the cost in human life and toil to complete this place.

The fortress was built for a siege. Each food storage room would have a different kind of food except for one room which had a mixture. That room was the “tithing” room. There were huge water cisterns that kept the Jews able to farm up there while the Romans down below parched in the desert heat.

As we look down from the top, we see one of the squares where the Roman legions were stationed. Josephus tells us that 9,000 Roman soldiers and slaves were here during the siege.

Masada is the second most frequented spot for tourists in Israel. It certainly hits one intellectually, historically, and emotionally.

When we left to continue through the Judean Desert, we stopped at a kibbutz-run dairy and date (the kind you eat—haha) café where we had a chance to rest, think, and drink pints of the delicious chocolate milk Margaret Morse provided for us. This tour company certainly knows how to meet its clients’ needs!

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NYC'S HOUSTON STREET--A GUSTATORY TREAT

2011-05-10T23:15:00.000-04:00

I’ve written a number of times about these great delis in NYC: Carnegie, Stage, Ben’s---but the best by far is Katz’s down on Houston Street. I am usually there WITHOUT my camera so I couldn't share the ambiance, or lack thereof, of this marvelous New York staple where Harry Met Sally and a Katz's patron ordered “what she had.” This time I had my camera, and the video clip from the movie is down below.

How famous is Katz’s? Google just the name, and you will see that the world recognizes this as THE Katz’s. And it has been that way since 1888.

This is not a movie set!

Since WWII, Katz’s has been sending dried salamis to the military, and there is a big sign “Send a salami to your boy in the army.” Michael’s cousins have done it and so have we. Their website has a link for that special APO/FPO package.

Years ago when Rob first introduced me to Katz’s, I looked up this restaurant in The Underground Gourmet. It said its cleanliness was “negligible,” if I remember correctly. I don’t think the place has been updated ever, and that’s part of the charm. I can’t say if The Underground Gourmet was right, but I wouldn’t hesitate going in there for a moment.

Some things have changed, however. At one time the waiters (wait service occurs at the tables along the wall while the rest is get-on-line and order) were the surliest old men you can imagine. Heaven help you if you brought your own sandwich to one of their tables. Those guys are gone now, but the new crop retains the surliness. Ah…tradition.

The walls of Katz’s are lined with photos of the rich and famous who can’t resist the most delicious of deli sandwiches.

Dried salamis hang in the window, and if you come in at lunchtime, the lines are long.

You get on line, wait your turn, order your sandwich, and the deli-guy cuts off a slice for you, plops it on a plate, and you get to savor that first delicious bite! With your fingers--and then you lick them! You can order “lean,” but why ruin the sandwich? On your sandwich plate are sour and half-sour pickles and pickled tomatoes. No way will you leave hungry. Want a Doctor Brown’s soda to go with it? Think you can handle a heap of fries? Or a knish?

There's a tip jar on the counter, and we make sure we add to it. The taste and the sandwich are the extra special stuff you just don't get everywhere in the city. Want some extra pickles? Another tomato? Just ask.

Those sandwiches aren’t cheap. A corned beef sandwich last week was $16.25, and a pastrami was $16.75. Tongue is even more expensive.

How's this price for an egg cream, a New York legendary drink or that lovely chili/pickle combo?

Of course there are other things on the menu, but we have our favorites. Over the years I’ve had french fries piled a mile high, lots of hot dogs with mustard and sauerkraut, knishes, franks to take home, little salamis to take home, and probably some other items, but for me the big choice is between corned beef and pastrami. Rob and I sometimes split because this is a majorly tough decision.

But Houston Street should not be defined by Katz’s alone.

Houston Street is actually a treasure trove of ethnic food. Right down the block is Russ and Daughters, one of the best appetizer stores I’ve ever had the gustatory pleasure to frequent. For four generations, their herrings, white fish, smoked salmon (known as lox to me), halvah, caviar and much more mean putting a cooler in the car and loading up! New York Magazine named it the best place for bagels and lox.

Here’s the Travel Channel’s Anthony Bourdain’s assessment: "Russ & Daughters occupies that rare and tiny place on the mountaintop reserved for those who are not just the oldest and the last — but also the best."
- Anthony Bourdain

No surprise.

A few stores down from Russ & Daughters is Yonah Shimmel’s Knish Bakery.

The original Yonah Shimmel sold knishes from his pushcart beginning in 1890, and his store has been in its present location since 1910. NYC politicians love to have their picture taken at this Lower East Side icon, and we knish connoisseurs just like to go there. We take them back home with our Katz’s sandwich, some appetizing from Russ etc., and we heat them in the oven. And smile.

If you want to eat in Yonah Shimmel’s be prepared to travel back in time. There are a few other things on the menu, but you will grab your utensils from a glass on the table and sit at tables that probably date from the 1940s. It is a treat to be in there where you can think about the regular people coming in for a warm piece of real comfort food. The only thing is they warm the knishes in a microwave. It’s much nicer to warm them in an oven.

The store is so important in the annals of New York City History that it has been the subject of many portraits, one of which hangs in the Museum of the City of New York.

This part of Houston Street is really delicious! It’s a part of New York many people miss. Don’t be one of them.

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THE ISRAEL MUSEUM--JERUSALEM CIRCA 66 CE & THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS--BLOWS ME AWAY

2011-04-29T22:13:00.000-04:00

Once again Jerusalem amazes. Our visit to the Israel Museum and, in particular, two of the exhibits blew me away.

The first was the Jerusalem model, a 1:50 scale model of this eternally important city as it existed at the time of the second Temple. We’re talking 66 CE. It is awesome to view and to walk around, and it is awesome to contemplate how meticulously the model was researched and constructed.

The Jerusalem model was commissioned by hotel owner Hans Kroch in honor of his son Jacob killed in the 1948 War for Independence. It was built under the supervision of archeologist Michael Avi-Yonah of the Hebrew University who based his research on the writings of Josephus Flavius in the New Testament and on Hebrew writings found in the Talmud and the Mishna as well as on customs concerning buildings of that period. Even the construction materials are from that time whenever possible. If a contemporary archeological find proves an inaccuracy, the model is updated. Almost incredibly, ancient Josephus was so accurate and complete in his descriptions that very few changes have been made. As I think of it in these terms, I am awed. Again.

The model opened in 1966 on the grounds of the Mr. Kroch’s hotel but eventually had to be moved because of construction. The Israel Museum welcomed it with open arms, and it was reopened here in 2006. The model occupies 21,500 square feet, so it cannot help but be impressive.

Picture the era. The Temple, the single biggest structure, was built by King Herod and the Romans will destroy it in 70 CE.

To this thriving and beautiful city, worshippers came to the Temple three times a year to sacrifice and to pray. Thousands entered the open areas to watch the proceedings, and they brought their offerings with them.

Before I move on to another exhibit, I think of how remarkable it is that I am able to see some of the remaining city still standing, during my visit--the walls encircling the city, the Western Wall of this Temple, the gates to the city. The feeling is indescribable.

Now on to another exhibit. Perhaps even more impressive is what lies beneath this building we jokingly called a Hershey’s Kiss when we entered the museum grounds.

Little did we know that this is The Shrine of the Book, and within this carefully constructed sanctuary lie the Dead Sea Scrolls, the oldest group of Old Testament scrolls ever found. (no photos allowed) All I can tell you is that I researched further after I returned home, and these scrolls reveal ideas, beliefs, stories, psalms, and history that boggle the mind. There is so much information about the scrolls, where and when they were found, the biblical and non-biblical texts, the different versions, the use of Hebrew and Aramaic, the link between Judaism and Christianity and so much more that I cannot begin to write about here, but this link will summarize some of the amazing facts. http://www.centuryone.com/25dssfacts.html.

Don’t get me wrong. The rest of the museum was beautiful. Art—modern and ancient, sculpture, pieces of antiquity, gardens.

Certainly more than several hours’ worth of viewing. But if you are in Jerusalem, take the time to look at the model and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Those times will be with you forever.

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A BREAK TO FT. LAUDERDALE, FL--AND THIS IS A FISH STORY

2011-04-27T21:35:00.001-04:00

I've never fished in the ocean until today, and it turned out to be one great experience as Rob and I went on a 4-hour drift fishing excursion via Flamingo Fishing out of Ft. Lauderdale. On a whim I bought vouchers on Living Social, and it was a good bet!

Before we even boarded the Flamingo the trip was worthwhile. A visitor--a young manatee had sidled in to get herself a long drink of water from a dangling hose. She was fascinating to watch, and wow, she really was a drinker!

As we boarded the Flamingo, we were assigned spots. Each spot had a rod and rod holder. It took about 50 minutes to reach the fishing ground during which time we were given instructions on how to use the reel and to make note of the length of line let out. The Captain would give us a number, and we would let out our measured lengths—by the arm length—to allow our lines to sink to the level the fish inhabited.

The ride, by the way, was smooth. I was Dramamine fortified just in case. On the way out to the fishing grounds along the Intercoastal Waterway, we passed gorgeous boats and yachts and the incredible homes of the R&F.

What better place to dock your yacht than outside the local Hilton!

When we arrived at the fishing grounds and the Captain told us “60,” we yanked that fishing line out as fast as we could—itching to bring in “the BIG one.” There was a pool: biggest fish wins all. We were in….

The Captain must have been right! Within seconds, a man caught a Tile fish.

Two more minutes went by and I caught a mackerel. What a difference from trout and bass. This guy was a fighter, and I was surprised by how difficult it was to bring him in and how hard I had to work to do it. BUT with the size of my catch, I beat that tile fish loser by a mile!!!!!!!

Things slowed down considerably at that point, but soon Rob caught a remora which is a useless suckerfish. The crew member demonstrated how a remora can create enough suction to hang onto the boat.

Then he tossed him away—ha ha, Rob—close but no cigar.

Within five minutes Rob hauled in another fish. This time it was a yellowtail snapper. But, oh. It was under 12” and the crew member tossed it back. Poor Rob. Meanwhile NO ONE else caught a fish and time’s a-moving along.

Then Rob hooked another fish--another yellowtail snapper, and it was big enough to keep—not as big as mine, mind you.

But it goes into the cooler, and the crew member marks it with MY mark, 2 slits on the throat. The woman next to Rob warned him that if he caught another, he’d end up overboard. The mob was getting ugly!

Someone hooked another remora, but the crew member insisted it was the same remora because of some markings he noticed. Overboard.

Then a guy hooked what seemed like a big one from the bend of his rod—his own rod. He was standing in the bow of the boat, but in working the fish as he reeled it in, the fish moved all down the port side to the stern, the guy following and each of us moving back as dramatically he moved under each of our lines. Closer and closer the fish came. When it was finally brought in, it was a mackerel—bigger than mine. Pooh. But it was a beauty.

The big mackerel was the last fish caught. That was a bit surprising because I thought people caught tons of fish on these jaunts. Not so, I guess. Rob and I caught ours, however, and so I was smiling. And Rob wasn't thrown overboard.

It gets better. The crew member fileted our two fishes and we took the filets to a nearby restaurant, Bahia Cabana where the chef made the most delicious fish dishes for us. He broiled the snapper and blackened the mackerel, and they were served with huge wedges of lemon, vegetables, and onion rings. He did that for $8.50 for each platter. There was mackerel remaining, so we had the chef prepare two more platters to take back to our Fort Lauderdale Beach Resort rooms.

Just look who was waiting for us!

Just look at these platters. What a wonderful experience.

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GREEN AND FLOWERING JERUSALEM NEIGHBORHOOD

2011-03-29T08:16:00.000-04:00

Another beautiful day in Jerusalem. We have a “free” day until 4:00 PM, and while shuttle busses take people to a shopping area, Rob and I see a beautiful park from our balcony. We pack some water, our books and cameras and head off to explore.

Trees and greenery are precious here, and as the official aim is to re-forest the country there are flowers and trees everywhere. During the Ottoman Empire, trees were taxed, so people denuded the land of ornamental trees, keeping olive trees, date palms and other “useful” trees. When Israel became a state, it began a massive effort to reforest—to re-green—the land. Jewish people give money to the Jewish National Fund and other organizations with the express purpose of planting trees. Any occasion—a memorial or a joyous event may result in a gift of a tree planted in a person's name. The tree symbolizes life, and I've always felt that in its planting the tree allows life to continue. The devastating fires Israel suffered earlier this year, therefore, hurt the country and its people in many ways.

Rob and I want to explore the spot of green we've seen from afar. We enter the park at Dutch Corner where, as a sign of friendship in 1990, Holland gifted Israel with hundreds of tulip bulbs. Of course they are not blooming now in November, but we do see a lion with what seems to be a Delft design on its body. Just a guess.

There is a windmill inside the park we erroneously assume is also Dutch. Actually the British placed it there, but it never worked in this area. Still it looks tall and stately against the brilliant blue sky.

The park is green, a wide, grassy strip bordered by flowers from the main road down to neighborhood houses. Arbors covered with bountiful and aromatic flowers—as the one under which we sit now as I write—abound with benches to protect people from the bright and hot sun.

The flowers, the date palm trees, and the ever-present silver-leafed olive trees attract birds. The air is filled with their melodies. The breeze cajoles petals into floating to the white Jerusalem stone walkway, and in some spots the ripe olives have fallen too, leaving dark contrasting stains.

Isn't that Jerusalem stone walk gorgeous?

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Ironically we are in the first neighborhood built outside the Jerusalem walls, Mishkenot Sheananim, and because Jerusalem is built on hills, we sit here looking across the valley in wonder at those ancient walls, now as always a natural part of the city. Beautiful churches reach toward the heavens in Jerusalem.

To reach our arbor we've walked through narrow streets of homes packed tightly together but many with intricately decorated gates, red Spanish tile roofs, and small yards overflowing with flowers. Lovely and peaceful.

Notice the address is Windmill Street. Love it.

We walk to the end of the park by climbing back up the stairway and passing through a copse of evergreens whose pinecones form designs on the thick needle carpet.

Once up on King David Street, the noise level is almost an assault. How the atmosphere has changed in a few short steps. This is a small country with limited space for the luxury of a park in the midst of a famous, ancient, thriving city.

Jerusalem YMCA--famous and rich in programs for all

We walk past the huge YMCA where programs abound.
Past the King David Hotel where fame was gained in 1948.

entrance to the King David Hotel

We are back in the urban center, and we're ready for lunch in a corner outdoor cafe: avocado/sliced egg/lettuce & tomato on foccacia accompanied by sliced pickles, olives, cherry tomatoes, and sliced cucumbers.

Lunch is over, and it is almost 2:00 PM. On Friday in Jerusalem businesses close at 2 as the city gets ready for Shabbat. For us it's time to go back to the hotel before the next treat of the day, welcoming in the Shabbat by the Western Wall.

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EVERY STOP IN JERUSALEM IS AN ADVENTURE

2011-03-16T22:29:00.000-04:00

On our Margaret Morse tour, the day in Jerusalem continues with a walk through the Jewish Quarter of the Old City.

Renewal is the keyword here because work is going on everywhere.

At Hurva Square we are dazzled by the Hurva Synagogue.

Work on the synagogue first began in 1700, but the building was destroyed by Muslims in 1721; the synagogue ruins (“hurva”) remained until it was rebuilt in 1864. It retained the name “Hurva.” The Hurva Synagogue was next destroyed by the Arabs in the 1948 war. Israel recaptured Jerusalem in 1967, and though numerous plans were conceived and debated, it wasn't finally rebuilt and reopened until March 15, 2010, an ironic date (the Ides of March) since it opened amidst Palestinian protests that it was Israel’s intent to destroy Muslim holy places on the Temple Mount. Can the irony of these specious claims be any more obvious?

Hurva Square is beautiful and white.

We are lucky enough to catch a bar mitzvah procession and to hear the music and see the young man and his proud family. It’s so easy to smile.

On the streets are Arab peddlers selling magnificent looking breads and other baked goods.

We continued to walk through the narrow streets until we came to The Cardo, a busy and dimly lit enclosed avenue of shops really geared for Israel’s tourists. There were religious items for Jews and Christians, maps, artwork, and jewelry. It worked on me, and I left with a few goodies for myself and some friends.

On through the Arab market which was much more colorful with many clothing items hanging from ropes across open stalls.

the belly dancing ensembles were not quite for me

The street consisted of steps. Vendors stood at the openings of their shops and tried to lure customers as people passed.

The market was teeming with people hurrying on their way, and it was an exciting walk as we hurried up to meet our bus trying not to lose sight of our guide, David, as he maneuvered through the crowds.

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OUR WESTERN WALL--A GREAT MOMENT

2011-03-12T20:36:00.000-05:00

The Western Wall with the Dome of the Rock in the background

Old Jerusalem and the Western Wall. A singular ancient reminder and a singular modern symbol. When the Romans destroyed the second Temple in 70 BC in massive retaliation against the upstart Jews, they sought to totally erase everything important to Jews from the land. This one wall was left probably because it was deemed an unimportant outer wall on the western side of the Mt. Moriah, the Temple Mount. Nevertheless, this vestige of the Second Temple is the holiest site of Judaism. This is the first Margaret Morse Tour stop of our day.

From 1948 until 1967, despite a Jordanian promise to allow Jews to visit the Kotel (literally the “wall” in Hebrew), NO JEWS ALLOWED. One of the first to reach the re-captured Kotel during the 1967 Six Day War was Defense Minister Moshe Dayan who inserted a written prayer in the cracks. That prayer was that a lasting peace “descends on the House of Israel.” Today people, many tearful with emotion, slip their written prayers in the cracks of this great stone wall. I am among these people, and I doubt if ever my prayers were quite as heartfelt as they are in this supremely holy place.

I touch history and add my prayers to others

I approach in my light blue hat

As I leave with my friend, Riva, I wipe away a tear of emotion

Those photos are a bit ahead of my story. Today one passes through security to reach the Kotel, and on the wall is a mezuzah containing the shema: “Hear O Israel, the Lord our G-d, the Lord is One.”

Before we have an opportunity to spend time at the wall, David, our Margaret Morse guide takes us through the Heritage Exhibit where we graphically see how Herod had the Temple constructed.

David added to this model piece by piece so we could better understand the construction before we actually entered the tunnel in the lighted distance

King Herod began construction of the Second Temple in 19 BCE. He wanted an enormous Temple so the one million pilgrims who, in those ancient times, came three times a year, Succoth, Shavuot, and Pesach, to pray and sacrifice could be accommodated. He flattened the top of Mt. Moriah to enlarge the space where he built a huge and magnificent structure. This particular piece of ground is very important. Solomon’s Temple, the First Temple, stood here. The Holy of Holies in which the Ark of the Covenant remained was here. It is believed that Abraham brought Isaac here to be sacrificed, although Muslims believe that took place in Mecca. To Muslims, who built the Dome of the Rock on this site of the destroyed Temple, this spot marks where the Prophet Muhammad ascended to Heaven. According to the Oxford Archaeological Guide to the Holy Land, Abd al-Malik (the builder of the Dome of the Rock) wanted ”a symbolic statement…of the superiority of the new faith of Islam.” Near the Dome of the Rock is the Al-Aqsa Mosque with its distinctive black dome.

We can only begin to comprehend the magnitude of this structure, done with ancient tools. It is with awe that we look at Herodian stone, stone with a frame carved into it.

Notice the chisled frame around the stone. This is called Herodian stone.

After he explains the construction, we enter the excavated tunnel that runs alongside the wall.

As huge as the exposed wall is, most of its nearly 1,700 foot length lies below ground. Archeologists sought to excavate under the wall to determine its length. This long process, begun in the 1800s, was further complicated by residences built up against the wall, some of which used the area for sewage disposal. Eventually, 2000 years of civilization were uncovered, and we have the opportunity to walk through the tunnel and once again travel back in time to experience, in some small way, those ancient times. We walk over a glassed area where we can look down and see how much deeper the wall goes. We see original columns of stone. As we walk on the original walk, I realize that I follow the footsteps of great leaders like Hillel and Jesus. The feeling reaches deep into my soul.

Deep in the ground in the tunnel along the wall is a chapel for women. It is suggested that this spot where women come daily to pray would have been under and opposite the basement of the Temple. They do not heed us as we pass by; the prayers continue unabated. The excavation of the tunnel is about 750 feet long, and the wall itself is about 1,700 feet long.

Outside we gaze at the Wall before we enter the enclosure. The Kotel is huge—over 180 feet long and more than 60 feet high. The wall built by Herod uses no cement. The process was dry mortar. The stones are huge. Our wonderful guide, David, explained that the stones weigh more than a fully loaded 747 plane. Archeologists do not know how the quarried stone was brought here.

As customary, the men enter on one side of the wall and the women enter from another side. They do not mingle. I met women of other faiths there putting their prayers in the wall as well. That is the thing about Jerusalem. Christians and Jews visit each other’s sites, always with respect and interest.

Today is Thursday, the ancient market day. As Thursday was the gathering day for people, it was also the day for Bar Mitzvahs. That custom continues in this place as Jews come from around the world celebrate that special rite. Incredibly to me, however, is that the women—the mothers—must peer over the separating barrier in order to see their sons bar mitzvahed.

Careful, supervised excavation continues to be done by archeologists who have not nearly exhausted this treasure trove of antiquity, and we as we leave, we see places where the work continues and ancient walkways are uncovered.

In this site of further careful excavation, notice the stone walkway. Imagine who walked there.

But Margaret Morse had even more plans for this beautiful day.

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WHAT A LOVELY BOOK I RE-VISITED--A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN

2011-03-05T17:06:00.000-05:00

Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn transports us back to an earlier time, the early part of the 20th century in one of the most famous places on earth, Brooklyn, New York. Here masses of relatively new working class Americans came to make their way, dreaming about the endless possibilities while working hard to make it through the day.

In this long-ago place lives the Nolan family, Katie and Johnnie who marry young, love, work hard, and soon have two children, Francie, young, impressionable and sensitive to the hard world but aware that beyond her neighborhood’s confines is a gentler world she wishes to enter, and Neeley, tough and tender at the same time but rambunctious and anxious to live for the moment.

Johnnie Nolan makes his way as a singing waiter. He is liked by everyone for his friendly, respectful and thoughtful ways. As a father he encourages Francie, his “prima donna,” to follow her dreams, and he encourages her fancies just as he lives in his own—that the impresario will discover him one night as he works, and all his wishes will come true.

In order to keep her home together, Katie Nolan does not have the luxury of dreams. She works as a janitress in her building. She loves Johnnie, but she does not like his drinking nor the idea that she cannot depend upon him. Her sense of responsibility makes her appear hard, and in some ways she is, but she feels she has to act as she does if her children are to have a better and easier life than she has.

Katie’s mother, who can neither read nor write, insists that the family read the Bible and William Shakespeare. Each night they read whether they understand or not, for she knows that somehow it is education that open the doors to a better world. It is Francie’s intention, in fact, to read her way, alphabetically, through the books in the library, and she reads voraciously.

We meet Katie’s sister, Sissy, with her peculiarities and string of husbands. We meet other neighbors, some good and some bad. We see Francie become an adolescent and deal with all the problems that involves, and we see the very difficult and divisive decisions Katie is forced to make as Johnnie’s drinking becomes more of a problem.

Despite the hardships of daily life, the births, sicknesses and deaths, throughout the novel there is so much good and a great deal of happiness in little triumphs and successes that keep spirit and hopes high. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is a testament to the strength of the human spirit. It is a reminder that the little things in life are often the most memorable. It extols the importance of love and family and of forgiving when forgiveness is not easy. Many of the characters are as strong as the tree that grows outside Francie’s building—a tree that refuses to die.

Joan Blondell plays Aunt Sissy to Francie & Neely

I love this book. I’ve read it before and it never loses its appeal. I’ve cried through the sad parts and smiled at others. I love the characters for all their strengths and weaknesses. This is a book about life. An absolutely marvelous movie was made in 1945 starring Peggy Ann Garner and Dorothy Maguire. It cannot cover the entire novel, but it is a treat. I recommend this too.

I re-read the book recently for a library book discussion. I asked the men there if this novel had appeal for them as well, and the answer was an unqualified yes, so take A Tree Grows in Brooklyn along on your next trip.

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YAD VASHEM: A MEMORIAL--A PLACE TO REMEMBER

2011-03-02T22:51:00.000-05:00

Israel’s Yad Vashem, is a Memorial, not a museum. Its name is derived from Isaiah, chapter 56, verse 5: “And to them will I give in my house and within my walls a memorial and a name (a “yad vashem”)…that shall not be cut off.”

It is a living memorial to the Holocaust, safeguarding the history and providing education for the future. It is a place where people walk quietly whether they arrive alone or in a group, whether they are young or old. There is an almost palpable presence here and a quiet, peaceful, and reverent atmosphere. I look at the different groups of young people, and am startled by the numbers of young Israeli soldiers. It is good to understand why you are giving your youth to your country.

Yad Vashem is dedicated to what Israel calls the Four Pillars of Remembrance: Commemoration, Documentation, Research and Education. There can be no Holocaust deniers in the face of the truths housed here.

We begin our visit under our Margaret Morse tour guide David’s tutelage. He takes us to the Avenue of the Righteous Among the Nations. This is a broad walkway, an avenue, lined with trees. Each tree represents a person who saved one or more Jews during the Holocaust. Each tree reminds us of a person who did the right thing while others were doing the wrong thing. There are plaques on the trees commemorating these people.

I know that every so often, a new person’s story is revealed, and every once in a while I read in the news about a reunion between a saved person and the one who saved him/her. The Avenue of the Righteous is a powerful beginning. Yad Vashem’s website asks for names still to be recognized.

David first leads us to Janusz Korczak Square. The sculpture by Boris Saktsier says it all. Korczak ran an orphanage in the Warsaw Ghetto. He had the opportunity to flee when the children were arrested, but he refused to leave the approximately 200 children. He went with them and met death with them in the Treblinka death camp.

On to the Children’s Memorial, an intense and impressive reminder of the approximately 1.5 million children who perished during the Holocaust. There are eternal flames in their memory.

Most of the Memorial is underground. One walks past the pillars and enters single file in semi-darkness past children’s photos as names, ages, and countries of origin are heard. I walked with a lump in my throat as I looked at those precious photographs.

the pillars and the entrance to the Children's Memorial

David then leaves us to walk at our own pace through the unique Holocaust History Museum. Its impressive architectural style forces the visitor to follow a path that chronologically tells the story of the Shoah—from the point of view of the Jews. That is a different approach from our Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC. In this museum we look at the worlds the Jews occupied under the Nazis and their collaborators. There are artifacts, testimonies, and other examples of reality. It is a difficult, heart-wrenching walk. But it is an important walk to take.

Our time here has not been sufficient to see everything, but this is not a place to hurry through. It takes time to digest it, and, frankly, to let emotions calm down. We leave filled with sadness.

It is evening, and we head back to our hotel for dinner and a lovely evening with friends.

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O JERUSALEM

2011-02-27T15:26:00.000-05:00

Jerusalem is more than a city; it is a dream many people share, and for pilgrims here, it is a solemn, holy place with sites that point to their beginnings. I am no different. In this holy city stood the Temple, destroyed by despots, and until recent times even the last vestiges were kept from us. On these streets walked some of the most influential people of all time.

Last evening when we stood on Mt. Scopus, a site lost and then regained in blood, we looked over the city at twilight, said our shehechayanu in thanks and shared our Kiddush. My heart filled with the emotion of the moment and the recognition that the ancient dream of “Next year in Jerusalem” was now.

But this morning is another day, and we are out to try to find the real Jerusalem. This is not easy, for this is also a city of today, and the streets are filled with shops of all kinds and signage in different languages.

But we pass street signs that remind us of the city’s soul.

The city is divided into four quarters: the Jewish quarter, the Muslim quarter, the Christian quarter, and the Armenian quarter. One might ask about the Armenian quarter, but do not forget that prior to WWI, this land was part of the Turkish Empire. We visit all the quarters during our time here including the only shopping mall in Jerusalem where, despite security to enter, everyone shops and eats together. We also to through the Arab market, the souk, a long narrow corridor of stairs with shops on either side and vendors plying their wares.

Jerusalem is a white city. Jerusalem stone, used as construction material, is white; the buildings are white and, as the stone ages and weathers, it begins to turn different shades of beige. Nevertheless, from far away, the whiteness is striking.

The stone also takes on different textures and shapes as it weathers. Some are quite beautiful, and some look as though they have been carved. These photos were taken outside the National Cemetery and illustrate the stone's beauty.

Our first stop of the day, the Hadassah Hospital, is emblematic of the city. The hospital was built on this site after Jordan occupied the original Mt. Scopus site after the 1948 war. The building is a marvel, and this world-class hospital is extraordinary. Currently under construction, the Tower which will greatly expand the facility.

We are here to see the Chagall windows in the synagogue. (I highly recommend the Chagall windows in the Union Church in Pocantico Hills, NY (http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2006/08/union-church-at-pocantico-hills.html) Before he did his designs, Chagall sat for two hours a day to see how the light filtered into the room. As a result of his work and understanding of the light, the hours pass and the light highlights different thematic aspects of the windows. The beauty is beyond the words at my command.

Some windows were shattered during the ’67 war. Although over 80 years old at the time, Chagall re-created them, and he even used some of the same glass with shrapnel still imbedded. Today there are precautions to save the windows in case of attack. How sad to have to think like this.

One sits in silence in this quiet synagogue awed by the beauty and overcome by the peace in the center of a bustling hospital.

We spend a short time in the Women’s and Children’s Center. Here 70% of the patients are Arab. All things are done in both Arabic and Hebrew, and because sick children sometimes have lengthy hospital stays, school is provided. Parents have a place to sleep in the rooms with their children.

In Israel, all citizens must belong to one of four health plans for which they pay premiums. Palestinian children are brought in and treated for free if they are unable to pay. Doctors volunteer their time to train Palestinian doctors and nurses at no charge. Israel considers healthcare a bridge to peace. During the intifada, for instance, EVERYONE was treated.

There is also a concern for mental health. During the intifada, treatment was given to cleaners, admission people, and others who were not trained to see the kinds of horribly injured and mutilated victims of bombing. Staff was sent on retreats accompanied by psychologists and other mental health professionals to help them recover from the traumatic experiences and sights that became a daily part of their work.

The two Hadassah hospitals in Jerusalem were nominated for the 2005 Nobel Prize because of their commitment to the idea that healthcare is a bridge to peace.

Can you tell I am a member of Hadassah?

Our next stop on our tour is the National Cemetery, akin to our own Arlington National Cemetery. Here are buried many of the important personages as well as the brave soldiers of this country.

We begin at Theodore Hertzl’s grave. Hertzl is the father of modern Zionism. He actually died in 1905 in Budapest and was entombed here in 1949. He inspired the Jewish people through political Zionism.

On the square in front of Hertzl’s grave Israelis welcome the major holidays of Israel. Yom Hazikaron is Israel’s Memorial Day. When it ends, Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day begins. We ask our Margaret Morse guide, David, how people can emotionally move from one holiday to the other, from mourning to celebration. He answers frankly saying many cannot. In so small a country where each generation has fought a war of survival, there probably is not a family in the country who has not lost someone. But everyone recognizes the significance of these days.

We visit the graves of Yitzhak and Leah Rabin. Rabin was the assassinated “martyr for peace” whose memorial we visited in Tel Aviv. (http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/12/israels-history-is-inspiring-and.html) Then to Gold Meir’s grave, the Prime Minister who brought Henry Kissinger to the Golan Heights and who held her cabinet meetings in her kitchen. Then to Teddy Kollek, the mayor of Jerusalem for 27 years. Many feel he put the modern face on this ancient city.

These gravesites were emotionally moving, but not nearly as moving as the section of soldiers’ graves we visited. 22,000 Israeli soldiers have died for “the cause of the Jewish people.” One grave here is the resting place of David's nephew. Most of them are teenagers or in their early 20s. In Israel, three years of military service is required of male high school graduates; two years is required of females.

Finally we visit a pool memorializing the Palestinian Jews who died fighting with the British against the Germans during World War I and memorializing the first operation of the Israeli Navy.

A young Israeli soldier. In this country they always must be on the ready.

It has been a truly interesting and emotional day, but it is not over yet.

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A MINI VACATION IN A MINI HOTEL

2011-02-20T23:14:00.000-05:00

I am always up for a mini-vacation. Sometimes just getting away for a brief weekend can really feel like a long time away from home, and this Valentine’s Day weekend did just that for us. Valentine’s Day and Sunday matinee tickets for Broadway’s Billy Elliot gave us a perfect “reason” to spend the weekend in New York City.

Backpacks worked for our overnight things. No suitcases, no wheels, and free hands. We left the car at Ramsey 17 and took the train in. I love trains, and I love traveling off-peak. With my Kindle, I just kick back and read for a longer period of time than I usually have. And no worry about parking! At Penn Station we hopped on the A train to Columbus Circle, a perfect starting point, and then a brisk walk to our hotel on 58th Street.

The Hudson is not your ordinary hotel. There is no marquee announcing its location. There is no address on the lime green, glass automatic doors, and within those doors there is no sign designating the escalator with its glass and lime green lighting as the trip up to the reservations desks in the main lobby.

Not like a hotel at all!

We’re early, of course, because we have plans for the day. We check our backpacks and set off.

First stop is the Lubin House, Syracuse University’s townhouse on 61st Street. It’s a can’t-miss location. There aren’t too many buildings with big orange flags out front with a big Syracuse on it. Lubin House also has an art gallery open to the general public, and the exhibit there, in concert with the Dahesh Museum of Art, is worth a stop for anyone.

The exhibit, The Essential Line, is a study of the role of drawing in academic art in the 19th century. At that time, art students spent years studying drawing for it is “seven-eighths of what makes up painting.” The exhibit traces the development of a student of the time who first began copying paintings, graduated to sculpture, and finally was allowed to draw live models. The drawings display a heightened sense of observation, and in the exhibit, notes point out the exceptional growth in producing drawings that also expressed emotion and message. Drawings of horses or portraits of men keenly reflect an understanding of musculature and tension, for instance, and in the Palitz Gallery, we could take our time, observe, appreciate and learn. After the exhibit, and I recommend checking out this venue to see if there is an exhibit open to the public, we thought about our next destination.

We debated about heading over to the zoo on 63rd, but decided it was still a bit too windy, so we went off in search of a Starbucks, some warmth, and a chance to nibble on a protein bar. There we just relaxed and talked for almost an hour. Again, a mid-day rarity for us, and it was lovely.

Back to the hotel for check-in and some really big laughs. I was thankful I’d looked up reviews on the hotel prior to our trip because I would have been shocked! Reviews are sometimes ludicrous: too noisy (this in NYC, people), hard to find (that’s part of the charm), and tiny rooms. I was glad I read that because our room made a cruise stateroom into a suite!

8x8 for the sleeping area, and in that space was a queen bed,

a desk and chair, two night tables and two lamps,

These are the lamps, and they are part of the art of this room

two pull out tables, a sound system, drawers, two huge mirrors, a TV, and a wall tray for, I suppose, men to place their pocket contents. True, one had to walk sideways getting in and out of bed, and the wall mounted TV had to be flat against the mirror on which it was mounted to get through from that side, but all in all, it was really cute!!!!! No kidding. There was a tiny ice bucket.

I liked it a lot because it was so different and tiny. The view from our 19th floor took in the Hudson River even if you had to kneel on the bed to see out.

Let me say, everything was coordinated perfectly, and the lamps were lovely. As we entered from the hall, to the left was the doorway to the all white bath

with a window separating the teeny tiny tub from the sleeping area. Pull a shower curtain across or not—depends on the wish for privacy.

Good lighting in the bathroom and all the necessary accoutrements. Just cute!

To the right was an, I’ll say alcove, with a luggage rack, though I’m not sure how one would open a full size piece of luggage in the room, and a substantial number of hangers.

The place was adorable. The desk had pencils, a teeny tiny pad with graph paper inside—I guess to enlarge the teeny tiny writing you might do in this teeny tiny room. And full-size stationery and fax sheets.

Out in the hall was the "canteen," an interesting bar with stools in front of a series of doors behind which were snack and drink machines. First time we had something like this, but I could envision friends gathering here for a quick snack; after all, they surely could not gather in anyone's room.

We headed to the Library for a drink with smiles on our faces, and that’s when I came to become really fond of this hotel. There is a wonderful club atmosphere and plenty of places to meet people.

The Library is huge, and yes, there are actually books there; many are out of reach up by the ceiling and surrounded by an unwalkable catwalk, but on our level there are book racks displaying some intriguing volumes.

The art on the wall is comprised of a huge black and white Holstein cow in a variety of headgear. Funny and fun. The seating is nice; big cushy leather or recliners (although poor Rob found one where the back gave way until he fixed the arm) There are pool tables, chess boards and group seating. The bartender is fast and efficient, and we began our night of vodka. AND THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T NEED A BIG BEDROOM; YOU WANT TO BE HERE!

Between March and October, the hotel has a rooftop bar and a terrace garden which we could only see through the hugh glass French doors. What a great place to meet. You might be wondering if I'd recommend the Hudson. I would. I wouldn't be surprised if we end up there again. But remember what I said about the teeny tiny room; it's just as I describe it. If you are in the least bit claustrophobic, this is not the place for you.

We went back to our room and changed. We had dinner reservations at the Firebird, a great Restaurant Row classic known for its Russian food. The walk to the restaurant was casually pleasant. The Avenue is a mélange of ethnic restaurants, and frankly, I could have eaten my way down to Restaurant Row. We had planned to go sometime last spring, but we hit traffic coming into the city and had to cancel. This was our make-up day, and, as a friend said, you want that hearty Russian food in the winter.

With 160 or so vodkas on their list, Rob had done his research before hand, but on the advice of the bartender in the Library, he altered one of his selections. We had Ruskova and Chopin vodkas, and tasted each others. Delicious. We chose the $45.00 prix fixe dinner, and it was fantastic. As we both had the same thing, my report is limited, but I can say that the food was outstanding.

We began with salmon caviar blini (for an additional $5.00 per), Alaskan salmon caviar, buckwheat blini, and crème fraîche. Glorious. We continued with Beef Strogonoff, filet mignon tips, onions and mushrooms in a veal jus, fresh pasta, and for dessert with our coffee, Romanov, vanilla ice cream, strawberries served with a Grand Marnier reduction. Dinner was heavenly!

The restaurant was busy, and it was sometimes a big noisily energetic, but when a large party left, things quieted down, and we were left to enjoy our dinner. Service was friendly and excellent. Before we left, we went upstairs to the private room. I’d like to plan something there.

Later some more vodka at the hotel finished the evening.

Sunday, I slept a little later. Checkout is at noon, so Rob went down to Café Europa on the corner of 58th and brought back big hot cups of coffee to go with our protein bars.

At noon, we headed to Sapporo in the theater district for a wonderful ramen lunch. It was heartening to see that the restaurant was filled with entire Japanese families and a few single fathers with their young children. Once again we chose the same dish, Sapporo Special Ramen which is noodles in Miso flavored soup with sliced and minced pork, fishcake, mixed vegetables, corn, scallions and spinach. At $9.95, this is a delicious and incredible bargain of a meal. We also ordered one order of gyoza, Japanese panfried dumplings-pork and vegetable. Everything was superb. I also watched the experts and picked up a better way than slurping up the ramen!

A stop in Starbuck’s before the theater seemed the right thing to do. Now comes my big gaff, and one which could have ruined everything. We got to the theater about 2:30 thinking the doors would be open and we could read the Playbill before the 3:00 matinee. NO NO NO. This matinee was at 2:00! Incredibly, backpacks and all, they seated us! Row F Orchestra and not aisle seats. I don’t even want to think what the people we climbed over thought because I can only imagine what my thoughts would be if two backpacking latecomers barged in during the first act. We hurried and not a word was uttered. Thank goodness for us we knew the story and we caught up instantaneously. But if after all that, we had missed the show….

Anyhow, I loved the show and the dancing, and afterwards we walked back to Penn Station just in time for a train, and we were home before 8 PM. One of the best mini-vacations ever!

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FIFTEEN LAYERS OF CIVILIZATION IN ISRAEL'S BEIT SHE'AN---WOW!

2011-02-17T14:35:00.002-05:00

I leave Beit Alfa’s synagogue with such a good feeling, but this day in Israel continues to astound as we travel to Beit She’an National Park, a place often visited because of the 15 layers of civilization uncovered there. It’s so difficult for me to imagine conquerors incorporating what they find and continuing to build atop the previous civilization-- growing the earth up to a mound and then a hill for archeologists to dig down through that hill to that mound until they reach the flat earth again and an early civilization that lived the best it could on this spot.

The most important occupation archeologically because of the pieces of antiquity uncovered was the Egyptian, dating back to the 15th century BCE when Pharaoh Tutmose III made Beit She’an an Egyptian administrative center. It was occupied by the Egyptians for approximately three centuries, and then by Canaanites during whose occupation it was first mentioned in the Bible. Israel conquered it, and in a fight against the Philistines, the dead bodies of King Saul and his son, Jonathan, were hung from the walls and were memorialized in a psalm of David. Antiochus, of Chanukah fame, ruled here too. The Romans ruled as did the Byzantines, but throughout all of these occupations a small Jewish community remained. In 1322 this community produced the first Hebrew book on the geography of Israel.

As we walk on the streets that bore those people in ancient times, I mention to our guide, David, how astounding it is that Israel allows us to tread on the mosaic tiles of the streets and to touch the remaining objects of antiquity. He smiles and reminds me that these streets were built to be walked upon, and that they will be here far longer than any of us. Point well taken. How wonderful, though, to become a part of the history rather than gaze through glass panels in a museum.

The first place we stop is the Roman bathhouse. Here the clay structures at the bottom were heated by a draft of hot air from an external furnace. Water then dripped down on the hot clay causing steam to rise—a steam room! You can see the seats the men sat upon while they enjoyed their "schwitz."

There were three rooms in the bathhouse. The Romans were extremely organized about the care of their bodies. They exercised regularly, and these rooms were often used afterward. The hottest room is called the caldarium. If one preferred a lukewarm bath or a place to go between the steam room and the caldarium, the place to go was the ornately decorated tepidarium where one might relax and enjoy a message. Prefer a cold bath? The place to visit was the frigidarium. After a hot bath or a tepid soak, one would go to the frigidarium where the cold water would close the pores of the skin. The frigidarium was usually a swimming area, but it may have also been used as a baptistery because of the decorative cross that still exists.

The bathhouse with its tiled floors, ornate decorations, and, frankly, un-ancient (no such term, I’m sure) perspective, was extraordinary. It must have been magnificent. I can imagine Romans after exercise, relaxing and enjoying this spa just as we do today in much simpler surroundings.

From the bathhouse we walk to the Cardo Maximus. This was the main boulevard in Roman cities running in a north-south direction. It is a wide avenue, like a wide highway, and in Beit She’an, the markets were set up along side the Cardo Maximus. The Cardo is a colonnaded street, and the columns are decorated with depictions of Dionysus and other gods.

Our Margaret Morse Tour guide, David, explains the sculptured figures and their significance

We can still see the mosaic tiles of the thoroughfare, and it does not take much for our imaginations to imagine the crowds here on market days, purchasing goods, and enjoying the liveliness of street musicians and other entertainers.

On to the Roman theater, built around 200 CE, which originally had three tiers and eight entrances. It seated approximately 7,000 patrons. It also housed a Roman Temple. Some speculate that the theater was also used for gladiator fights with animals because the seating is high enough above the floor of the theater to protect spectators. In any case, it is an extraordinary sight to behold.

As amazing as Beit She’an is, we are all anxious to move to our next stop—Jerusalem. Initially we are heading not to our hotel but to Mt. Scopus overlooking this most important of cities, and there we will have a Kiddush and say the Shehecheyanu before we enter the city. This is a special prayer for important moments in our lives. Entering Jerusalem, and for me it is the first time, is, indeed a special moment in my life.

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STEPPING BACK IN HISTORY AT BEIT ALFA SYNAGOGUE NATIONAL PARK

2011-02-08T16:55:00.000-05:00

My brother-in-law, Giora, hails from Beit Hashita, a kibbutz in the eastern part of Israel's Jezreel Valley in the shadow of Mt. Gilboa. While our Margaret Morse Tour bus did not make this olive-producing kibbutz a stop on its way to Beit Alfa and its 6th century synagogue’s mosaic tile floor, when I saw the sign for Beit Hashita, I was thrilled. It is a shame we could not stop to visit. It all happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to take a photo. Still, this was a real connection for me.

Not that I was disappointed in Beit Alfa. Here was the site of a new kibbutz in 1928, and during the excavation, this magnificent preserved floor was unearthed. Virtually nothing else of the synagogue remains, but when I step back and think this artwork dates from the 6th century, I am floored (pun intended!) What we see here is a combination of religion, art, and history.

Considering the Jewish people do not use pictures in their houses of worship, this floor brings us to another time--somewhere in the evolution of the idea of a house of worship. There are depictions of the zodiac, of animals, of crops, and of religious objects like menorahs. All these objects are essential parts of the lives of the worshippers. The floor is ornate and richly decorated in colors. We were able to see a short film suggesting how the artists might have been found and brought to this little town to create this great work.

In the days of the Temple, Jews went to Jerusalem three times a year to make sacrifices. It wasn’t until the destruction of the second Temple that synagogues developed ritual purposes. In the first century of development, people entered as if going to Jerusalem, and they would pray facing that direction. In the second and third centuries, interior and seat were developed with a permanent Ark. In the fourth century, under Byzantine control, Jews were forbidden to build beautiful synagogue buildings, so the beauty was developed in the interior of the building rather than the exterior. Knowing this, scholars have been able to reconstruct a model of what the Beit Alfa synagogue may have appeared as a product of the sixth century.

These time frames I write of are almost beyond comprehension.

The floor tells a story. The top and bottom panels are biblical stories, but the middle is the Zodiac because the people here were farmers and used the zodiac as the calendar for their toil.

I rotated the photo so you can better see the mosaic depicting the binding of Isaac

The sun is pulled by a star chariot and is surrounded by the signs of the zodiac

There is writing on the walls which tell the story depicted on the floor. The names of the artists are mentioned as well as the sum paid for their work. It is assumed that the mosaic artists came from Beit She’an in another part of the Jordan Valley during the reign of Emperor Justinius.

This was a simple stop; probably some might review it as “nothing much to see,” but this floor and a combination of one’s knowledge of history, a guide as phenomenal as our David, and a willing imagination makes this stop an important and memorable one.

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TIBERIAS AND THE SEA OF GALILEE--WE ARE STEEPED IN HISTORY

2011-02-01T16:42:00.001-05:00

Everyone is excited about the last stop of the day on our Margaret Morse tour of Israel, Tiberias and the Sea of Galilee. This famous body of water is fed by the Jordan River, and our wonderful guide David keeps teasing us about crossing the Jordan. Surprise! At the point we cross, we see barely a trickle, unfortunately partially due to a long, hot, dry season. Nevertheless, it IS a thrill to cross over Jordan which feeds the Sea of Galilee.

Tiberias, founded in 18 CE by the son of Herod, is today’s city by the sea, but it was important in ancient times too as a place of hot springs and temperate climate. Roman soldiers came to relax in the hot springs. Even then a little R&R was important. Today, too, it is enjoyed as a winter vacation spot with its spas. This city on the western shore is one of four Jewish holy cities. It is the scene of many episodes in the life of Jesus, and it is also near the site of Israel’s first kibbutz. The Druze have also found a home nearby.

In 1986, an ancient fishing vessel was found on the northwestern shore. That vessel has been studied and recreated and was once exhibited at the kibbutz. Our guide David tells us that replicas have been made, and visiting Christians who often come to be baptized here board these ships to pray on the waters. In ancient times, fishing was an important industry, and one fish, the musht, is commonly known as “St. Peter’s Fish.”

Once again we are astounded by the small size of this country. The far shore of the Sea of Galilee is the Golan Heights, now controlled by Israel but once in Syria’s hands. I cannot help but think “safety.” Every view of the Golan Heights is a reminder of the important role these mountains play.

The Golan Heights are soooo close

With our full touring morning of the Hagoshrim kibbutz and the Golan Heights, we arrive in Tiberias at lunchtime, and Margaret Morse has a wonderful surprise. Our delight, fortunately or unfortunately, echoes a Jewish stereotype, but we don’t care. There’s real laughter. There on the waterfront overlooking the Sea of Galilee toward the Golan Heights is The Pagoda, a marvelous Chinese restaurant. We sit in an open air pavilion covered by a pagoda-inspired roof designed by a Chinese architect.

No hummus here but a scrumptious Chinese feast served family style to our many tables. Here is our menu:

Wonton soup, chicken, egg roll
Fried rice and vegetables
Beef and vegetables
Sweet & sour chicken
Pineapple & banana rolled in chocolate & sesame seeds
Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry not-ice cream.

What is amazing to most of us is that the non-dairy products here are incredibly delicious. Whatever that chocolate, vanilla... was, it thrilled. Whatever we’ve been putting in our coffee is delicious. Who knew?

Did we enjoy lunch? You betcha!

From The Pagoda we head to the water and our waiting tour boat and our cruise on the Sea of Galilee. The Sea of Galilee is not what I picture a sea to be. It is long and narrow—13 miles long and 7 miles wide. It seems more like Greenwood Lake, NY or Lake George, NY. In fact, the sea’s modern name is Lake Kinneret. Our cruise is a pleasure cruise, a party cruise. Another “not in the brochure” plus. Margaret Morse Tours constantly surprises us. We have a dj, and the music is OUR MUSIC. It doesn’t take long before dancing feet are doing their thing. Well, honestly, a lot more women get up than men, but even Rob gets up to dance a few times with me.

We also take the opportunity to take photographs as the sun is setting over this ancient city, and we pass public beaches and get a lovely overview of this place. We have to drive back to Hagoshrim and get ready for another day.

Tomorrow is always exciting.

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ON A KIBBUTZ AND UP ON THE GOLAN HEIGHTS--WOW!

2011-01-16T17:41:00.000-05:00

Margaret Morse Tours includes a stop that every one of us eagerly anticipates: two days at Israel’s Hagoshrim Kibbutz. It is not at all what I expect!!! My idea of a kibbutz is an idealized farming community where people rough it out in a daily, harmonious, sharing of labor and rewards. Simplistic, to say the least—maybe even simple-minded. I quickly learn that about 70% of Israel’s kibbutzim have turned to capitalism; one has to make money to survive, to send one’s children to college, and to live in today’s world. The work is still hard, but things have changed in the world of the kibbutz.

The Hagoshrim Kibbutz operates a hotel and resort, and it is lovely. Here is an unpretentious hotel with amenities and simple comforts lacking in the beautiful, much more formal Dan Carmel in Tel Aviv (I’m not complaining; that was a magnificent hotel, but this was so different). Set in the center of the Hula Valley, it faces the Golan Heights. Our rooms are simply decorated, comfortable with free wifi, something Rob and I absolutely refuse, in principle, to pay for but which always seems to come with a hefty charge in more “upscale” hotels. The lobby and bar are inviting, and there is live music in the evenings. The restaurant is big yet cozy and the meals varied and selections plentiful. A big, comfortable, country inn in America would be analogous.

The 210 members of this agricultural/hotel kibbutz live differently from the guests, but since 2000 they have become business people. On our first evening, we are addressed by a woman who has spent most of her adult life here. Children now live with their parents where once they were raised communally spending only short periods of time with their parents—from 4 to 7 PM daily. Houses, therefore, are more spacious than they once were to accommodate an entire family. The communal dining room has disappeared, replaced by home-cooking. The children leave the kibbutz at 18 to do their stint in the Army and then to go to college. Some return to the kibbutz; some do not. People are now paid salaries according to their jobs where once everything was divided equally. Many work outside the kibbutz. There are other changes, of course, but one very important way of life remains. They help each other. They are taken care of by the kibbutz from birth to death, and there is no fear that illness or age will leave one destitute. The members still constitute a loving family caring for one another. One cannot underestimate this important factor. Even as the kibbutz has evolves, the community remains.

a block of kibbutz members' homes

In the morning we take a tour of the kibbutz, past the members’ homes and the other features of the resort—fountains, gardens, a swimming pool, athletic fields and trails—the same amenities you would find at any nice resort.

Interestingly, it is on this kibbutz that the Epilady was invented, and for a while it brought substantial income. However, as bigger companies throughout the world began to manufacture similar appliances at lower cost to the consumer, Epilady went bankrupt. This, of course, is another side of capitalism.

On our walk we passed the bomb shelters that are installed throughout the grounds.

Kibbutz bomb shelter

The Hula Valley sits in the shadow of the Golan Heights, and this area is a ready target for those who control the Heights. The Hula Valley was once a swamp that the Israelis drained with ditches and redirected the water to make the area blossom into an agricultural garden and a bird sanctuary. However, the farmers were fired upon so often from Syrians on the Golan Heights and so many were killed that there was a near uprising against working in the fields. Today the fields can be irrigated through remote electronic controls of the irrigators although today the Israelis control the vital Golan Heights.

From Mt. Bentel (a dormant volcano) atop the Golan Heights. Notice the short distances between the locations on the sign. Damascus, Syria and Amman, Jordan are closer than the Israeli Prime Minister's office!

We take our tour bus up into the Golan Heights, and as our bus climbs to the top of Mt. Bentel, we see how narrow the valley is with the hills on the other side clearly in view, how beautifully lush with growing produce, and how splendidly Israel has turned a swamp into the garden. We also see how a sniper with a high powered rifle can make quick work of murder.

As we leave the bus to see the views from the top of the Golan Heights, the path is lined with sculptures made from war’s debris. Eerie.

The top of the mountain overlooks the Israeli-Syrian border. The green fields of agriculture contrast with the brown across the border, but the road marking the border is clearly visible.

New settlements are being built along the border on the Syrian side. It is a well-known tactic to hide offensive men and materiel among civilians to intimidate the Israelis from defending themselves for fear of inciting the world’s ire for harming civilians.

It was in this valley that the biggest tank battle of the war took place with massive losses on both sides.

In previous peace negotiations, our Secretary of State Henry Kissinger could not fathom why Prime Minister Golda Meir would not give up more of the Golan Heights. She eventually talked him into accompanying her here via helicopter where he could see the vulnerability of Israel from those Heights. He backed away from his position, and the Golan Heights remained in Israeli control. If you ever question Israel’s adamancy, take a trip and see how vital a position these hills are to the country’s safety.

Today one can visit the village of Katzrin re-established in 1977. It is built on the site of the ancient Jewish Village of Katzrin in existence long before the Muslim conquest. Although we do not visit, we can identify the village by its red rooves.

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CARRIE FISHER'S WISHFUL DRINKING--A GOOD TRAVEL COMPANION

2011-01-07T12:32:00.001-05:00

When my friend gave me Carrie Fisher’s Wishful Drinking, I was awfully skeptical. I shy away from celebrity memoirs because I DON’T REALLY WANT THE DIRT on people I see on screen. Additionally, in this case I’ve liked her mother, Debbie Reynolds, since Tammy. When the show Wishful Drinking was on Broadway, I just avoided it. But I was 100% wrong. This is a sad but delightful memoir full of humor—often self-deprecating—and it is very, very funny. It’s laugh-out-loud funny. I’m sorry I didn’t see the show.

At 52, Carrie Fisher is a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, a Hollywood icon because she was Star Wars’ Princess Leia and daughter of two very famous, though not necessarily for the same reasons, Hollywood stars, Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher. She is also the former wife of Paul Simon. And she has had electroconvulsive therapy—something many unfamiliar with it refer to as electroshock. She is also a very talented and entertaining writer with a sharp wit and an in-your-face delivery. When you read about her childhood, you’ll see why they call Los Angeles La-La Land.

Amazingly absent from this book is bitterness. She lives next door to her mother, and while she pokes fun at Debbie Reynolds’s idiosyncrasies, Carrie even shares her mother’s clothing closet with us. “My mother’s closet was the magical place that she entered as my mom and emerged as Debbie Reynolds. Her closet was huge, like an enormous room, with an entrance and an exit, lined on each side by clothes of every sort…My mother was magnificent when she was decked out in all her glory.”

She talks about her father, Eddie Fisher, referring to the time after Elizabeth Taylor’s husband (and Eddie’s best friend) Mike Todd dies in a plane crash. “Well, naturally my father flew to Elizabeth’s side, gradually making his way slowly to her front…Now this made marriage to my mother awkward, so he was gone within a week.”

The book was written while Eddie Fisher was still alive, and despite everything, he is described in this manner: “My father is beyond likeable. I mean you would just love him. My father also smokes four joints a day. Not for medical reasons. So I call him Puff Daddy.”

The point is, of course, that Carrie Fisher’s talent has not been swallowed up by the demons that plagued her life, and she is a fighter. The book, the play, and her relationships are all part of her struggling recovery. For all its humor, it has an undercurrent of sadness. But maybe that’s because it seems very true.

I’m sorry I passed up seeing Wishful Drinking on Broadway because if there would be one thing to bring out this book to its fullest, it would have been hearing the stage version in her own voice. Somehow, when I finished the book, I felt sorry for her life as it must be tough when you begin life anew at 52. But I admire her strength because she has made it through, is raising a daughter, Billie, of whom she is very proud, and she seems to have made peace with her past. So this is a book read with a smile on your face, and that makes it an excellent traveling companion.

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ON THE ROAD TO SAFED

2011-01-06T16:15:00.001-05:00

In Israel on the road to Safed and an ancient Sephardic synagogue, our Margaret Morse tour bus stops in Carmiel for us to view a sculpture that seemed to sum up Jewish history. The artist depicted feelings of despair coupled with hope. The sculptures were filled with family and love. To explain, let me share the artist, Nicky Imber’s own words:

Dear Friends,
Many years ago, when I escaped form Dachau, I promised myself that if I should survive, I would dedicate my artistic life to perpetuating the memory of the Holocaust. I have created many different works of art in my lifetime, but most poignantly important are the ones standing in Carmiel today, and hopefully forever. From deep within my heart, I created them in honor of those who perished, those who have survived and those who follow and need to remember.
The park at Carmiel is entitled "The History of the Jewish People" and including three groupings: "Holocaust", "Aliyah", and "Hope". It depicts people who know that their end will be, but never give up hope and their faith in G-d. These are actual pictures I have in my mind from my horrible existence in Dachau.

I also invite you to visit Nicky Imber’s website, particularly to read the biography of this extraordinary man.

As you look at the photographs, you will see the anguish of the people. In "Holocaust," the pain on their faces reflects the pain of all the people suffering.

In "Aliyah," one man carries the Torah back to Israel.

In "Hope," the mother and child give us positive thoughts of the future and of future generations.

Imber contributed sculpted animals to the parks in Carmiel for children to climb on and enjoy, and there is also a memorial to the Allies who fought the Nazis.

The entire atmosphere is beautiful and moving, but it is also triumphant over evil. I’m glad we visited on this sunny, blue-skyed day.

As we drive through the Carmiel Valley, we pass Arab communities with unfinished homes and learn the custom for a son to bring his new wife into his parents’ home while he builds a new home for his new family. The building may take years as the son earns his money and adds to his home floor by floor.

Traveling to Safed, we pass vineyards, a relatively new addition to Israel, and we also drive up the highest mountain in Israel, Mt. Meron at 3,962 feet.

Safed is one of four holy cities in Israel.

At times in its history it has been the center of Jewish learning and home to some of the most famous Jewish scholars and mystics. Today, too, it is a home to students and people who wish to connect to their heritage. It is a center for Kabbalah. In Safed we visit the Yosef Caro Sephardic Synagogue named after Yosef Caro, who came to Safed in 1777, prayed in this synagogue, and authored the Shulchan Aruch, The Code of Jewish Law.

This ancient synagogue is quite different from the ones most of the people on the tour are accustomed. The bima is in the middle of the room, and the seating is around the room’s periphery.

There are ancient books in cases lining the walls, and the ark is beautiful. Unlike Torahs in our synagogues, here the Torah is encased in a beautiful wooden case in which it can be rolled for reading. I’d never seen something like this before.

Many of the shops in Safed are art galleries, and in the Artists’ Colony in the Judith Gallery I bought a beautiful Hamsa, something I had hoped to bring home from Israel with me.

For a good background of Safed, visit the website at http://www.safed.co.il/ You will find this city, continually occupied by at least a Jewish minority throughout the exile from Israel, has a very interesting history and was the site of an important battle during Israel’s War of Independence.

We leave Safed with its beautiful views and head to Hagoshrim Kibbutz in Tiberias to stay for several nights. More on this incredible place (and not at all what I expected) in my next post.

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HAIFA'S BEAUTIFUL BAHA'I GARDENS AND AN UGLY, UGLY PRISON

2011-01-02T10:52:00.003-05:00

Many religions find a home in Israel, and it’s joyous to learn about other beliefs in a land where many have their roots. The Baha'i faith has its international headquarters in Haifa, and their famous gardens is the next stop on our Margaret Morse Tour. This religion was founded in the mid nineteenth century by a Persian nobleman who saw himself as the most recent messenger of God similar to Abraham, Krishna, Buddha, Zoraster, Jesus, and Mohammed. The Baha'is believe that all religions are seeking oneness—unification—as there is one God, and one people, and one earth. Given that truth, all people should come together in peace and equality. All should focus on the idea of oneness. Baha'i is an umbrella faith that encompasses all religions. One can practice his own religious customs and still remain a Baha'i. Of course other religions reject that invitation, and the Muslims persecuted the original believers. Baha'u'llah, the founder, was exiled from Persia. He came to Haifa for freedom and to establish the international headquarters. The Baha’i faith owns a significant portion of Haifa, and their shrine and gardens are located on the slope of Mt. Carmel. The Shrine is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Amazingly there is no significant Baha'i community in Israel. Those of the Bahai' faith come to Haifa, spend a year or two studying and working in the world-famous Baha'i Gardens. Nature is part of the oneness, and these gardens provide a route to a Bahai's goal.

When Israel became a state, she welcomed all religions, and the Baha’i followers have created an unbelievable place of beauty. On this day, we only visit the top of the gardens. Sadly we have to go through security to enter. The gardens extend down the hill, and they are places of wonder. They are a geometric cascade of hanging and terraced gardens. My photos do not begin to express the pensive mood one would have working or relaxing amidst such beauty.

I can only juxtapose the extraordinary beauty of the Baha'i Gardens with the incredible ugliness of our next stop, the Prison at Akko, built atop the Crusader Walls and the Ottoman Citadel.

One site promotes oneness and beauty while the other continued separation and hatred. During the British Mandate period, the prison was used for Jewish Resistance fighters and other political prisoners.

It is interesting that the political prisoners came from different segments of the political spectrum with different philosophies and leadership. They were forced to interact with each other in order to make plans.

The gallows were used for hanging these political prisoners.

Eight Irgun fighters were hanged here, and an eternal flame burns within in memorial to these heroes. Their names are on a plaque that hangs above the flame. Also imprisoned here at one time was Baha'u'llah, the founder of the Baha'i Faith.

There was a famous prison break from the prison in May, 1947 that made world news. For more information on this break and its repercussions, visit this link to the Jewish Virtual Library.

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THE DRUZE IN ISRAEL--MY INTRODUCTION TO A NEW RELIGION AND CULTURE

2010-12-19T13:14:00.006-05:00

All the excitement of Israel's Tel Megiddo happens before lunch, and our Margaret Morse tour has an amazing afternoon planned for us. To introduce us to a people and culture we might never meet, we visit a Druze town and the home of a member of that community. I admit that I had never even heard of this religion, and I love the introduction to new ideas and people. Once again, I am not disappointed.

The Druze religion has its roots in Egypt during the 10th century, and approximately 100,000 of the one million Druze reside in Israel. They reside in their own ancient towns although in some there are small numbers of Christians and Muslims among them. They have their own courts that deal with personal matters, and they have attained high status politically and economically. The religion is different from Islam, and they maintain their own communities and customs. They consider their religion a new interpretation of monotheism, and they have eliminated the rituals that they feel turn people from the pure faith. They do not allow conversion to their religion. A main aspect of their belief involves secrecy. Those who learn the secrets, “the Known,” are recognizable, if male, by their dress and big mustaches. The Known women, too, dress in a distinct manner and use particular colors. The rest of the Druze are the “Unknowns.” Once Israel became a state in 1948, the Druze chose to become part of the new country and first served as volunteers in the Army and then as part of the draft. For an interesting discussion of the Druze, please visit this site on the Jewish Virtual Library.

Our incredible journey includes a visit to a local resident. We are welcomed into the home of Foad Halabi, a local businessman.

We sit in the big living room—a common component of a Druze household and an indication of their hospitable society. There we are offered the strong Arab coffee and some delicious cookies by the Halabi daughters.

The coffee cups are only half-filled to indicate that more is ready should we desire. We are welcomed guests.

Then Mr. Halabi discusses the Druze relationship with Israel and shows us his own Israeli Army photos.

As the Druze marry within their religion, culture, and community, last names are often the same, and it is hard to tell if the restaurant we go to for lunch, owned by the Halabi Bros., is owned by Mr. Halabi's real brothers, but we have a wonderful menu sampling quite a few of the Middle Eastern foods.

Here we tourists aptly demonstrate our cluelessness. Our long table is laden with many dishes, hummus, pita bread, olives, pickles, eggplant,and dips, sauces, and other vegetables
.

We're still relative strangers to each other, but we share a curiosity, and we eat everything offered. Completely satiated, we are ready to leave. We assume we have had our lunch. NOT!!!! We've merely finished the first course in a three course meal! You can bet all eight of us at the table have a good laugh. And full bellies!

But we definitely enter our Mr. Halabi's store filled with lovely items. And yes, I buy a beautiful hand-woven Druze scarf. Just beautiful.

Despite differences, the Druze and the Jews live peacefully with each other, and both people prosper in this land because they respect each other. It all seems so simple to me. That's what is so sad.

Here's a sad fact that is also a part of this land. There is a Druze community in the Golan Heights, but they remain neutral. They have been threatened by the Arabs if they become loyal to Israel. Additionally they have real reason to fear should they ally themselves with Israel and then the Golan Heights are returned, by treaty or by force, to Israel. There will be revenge for their loyalty and their beliefs.

This experience in the Druze village is something I would never have had on my own. It was another side of Israel, exotic and wonderful. It's a wonderful introduction to a culture of which I was unaware, and I have done some further reading about them. There's so much to learn about the world....

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Marching Band Creates Giant Football Kicker

2010-12-17T10:36:00.001-05:00

I know this has nothing to do with travel, but this is so incredibly cool.

TIME IMMEMORIAL IN ISRAEL

2010-12-14T22:31:00.005-05:00

What an incredible day! We took an optional trip to Tel Megiddo, an Israeli National Park and UNESCO inscribed World Heritage Site. A tel is an archeological dig, and this one goes back to Biblical times when Megiddo was one of the most important cities in the region. Controlling Megiddo meant controlling the Via Maris (the Way of the Sea) a trade route that linked the ancient world's centers of culture and power—Egypt and Mesoptamia--as well as the Jezreel Valley. Mention of Megiddo's battles can be found in the Bible in Song of Deborah, Judges 5:13. The Christian tradition identifies Megiddo as Armageddon where the great battle of The End of Days will occur. (Revelation 16:16)

Usually a dig is funded for about five years, but Megiddo has constantly been funded because the site has given us great insights and relics of the past. It is also the setting of James Michener's wonderful epic novel, The Source. Megiddo means “source.” Michener re-named it Makor for his novel, but his description is pretty accurate. I re-read The Source just before coming on this trip. You know how I feel about books. This was an extra layer of excitement for me. While writing the book, Michener lived in the Dan Carmel Hotel in Haifa--our hotel. Cool.

Fantastic as it may seem, shards discovered in Megiddo attest to human habitation as early as the Neolithic period. That's the seventh and sixth millennium BCE!

One theory of its history suggests that King Solomon built a large city at Megiddo with two palaces, and we visited the Solomonic Gates. As a protective measure for the city, these gates improved on the Canaanite civilization's which had cells along the entryway where defenders hid and ambushed attackers. Obviously that didn't work too well because the Canaanite civilization was destroyed. The Solomonic Gates added a series of right angle turns to those cells. That way the attackers could not rush into the city, and in slowing them down, the defenders might be successful.

It is a thrill to see these structures. The imagination takes me back in time to see the finished walls and to picture the people living here so long ago. I did understand what I was seeing because of Michener's treatment in his novel. While we did not use them in our climb to the plateau, the stone steps used by the gatekeeper to check the identity of visitors are still there.

We saw the way these structures were constructed by slave labor. What we have in Meggido are foundations made of stone—big and heavy blocks of stone. To build with these stones would have taken too much time, so on top of the stone foundations, mud bricks were used. Mud bricks are made of mud and straw. Then the walls were plastered on both sides.

Over the centuries, nay millennium, the plaster wore away and the mud bricks decomposed leaving the marvelous stone foundations, steps, and other stone structures for us to study and to look at with awe. Of the many fascinating structures, I was amazed by the condition of an ancient granary--the storage facility that allowed the inhabitants to withstand sieges.

Notice the pathway leading down into this huge storage facility.

We observed a “slice” into a “cult area” and its altar where Canaanites made sacrifices to their god, Malach. Archeologists made big, deep squares, and they are labeled by their longitude and latitude. As they dig down in the square, every relic found is labeled with a letter and a number so even if it is removed, there is no doubt of its origin.

Notice the view here. You can see why this was a strategic location.

Amazingly, as we look at antiquity at our feet, the sky reveals gliders and ultra-lights. We are truly in a marvelous space.

But most wonderful is our descent into the water system dated by some scholars to the reign of King Solomon in the 10th century BCE, but others date it in the 9th. WHATEVER.... This system, an engineering marvel of its day, enabled the people of Megiddo to divert their water source, originally outside the city's protective walls to inside the walls. They dug (remember that only primitive tools were available) a 36-meter-deep shaft from which a 70-meter-long horizontal tunnel extended to the spring which emerged in a cave at the foot of the mound outside the walls. The tunnel was cut on an incline so water would flow to the bottom of the shaft and the inhabitants could draw water while standing at the top. The outer entrance was sealed with a massive stone wall and concealed with earth so that an enemy could not discover the location.

We descended 187 steps to the tunnel and ascended 80 steps back to the surface after we walked through the 3,000 year old tunnel just as the women of Megiddo did thousands of years ago--only they carried empty and then full water urns with them. While we used new, metal stairs, the original stone steps are still visible.

This was unquestionably the highlight of the visit. Read Michener's The Source as the novel deals with the building of the system by Jabaal the Hoopoe.

There is a Kibbutz at Megiddo today, but it, as other Kibbutzim has entered the capitalistic world in order to survive. They are building private homes for people. The new owners are not Kibbutz members, but they offer a way for the Kibbutz to make money and survive.

The thing about Israel is that each day I think that this is as good as it gets. I am soooo wrong.

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HOMELAND MEANT INTERNMENT CAMP FOR SOME ENTERING ISRAEL

2010-12-07T20:26:00.004-05:00

Our next stop is an unfortunate part of Israel's history. Under British rule and despite the homelessness caused by the Holocaust, Jewish immigration to Israel was severely limited. We visit a British detention camp which at times housed 2,000 detainees, some who stayed here for over two years. It looks horrible and is even more despicable when one considers the plight of those detainees, their experiences in Europe, and their struggles trying to reach this land.

Imagine coming out of a Nazi concentration camp and having no home or, perhaps, family. You finally make your way to a ship to take you to Palestine. But your boat is sent back or you are taken to a detention camp. From the ship, you are loaded into railroad cattle cars similar to the ones the Nazis used to take away your relatives--or perhaps you--and brought to a camp of long “dormitories” within a barbed wire perimeter.

You are told to undress and you go through a de-lousing procedure in a shower-type environment. There are manned guard towers to make sure you don't escape. And you don't know your fate. How terrifying for the detainees; how cruel and inhumane on the part of the British.

As tourists inside the dormitories, we see names carved into the wooden walls. Not graffiti. These detainees with no home to return to after freedom from concentration camps also were unaware if their families were still alive. The names represent desperate messages to others passing through who might pass on their names to people looking for them.

These detainees were Jews being punished for being Jewish and trying to get into their homeland—a land primarily owned by the Rothschilds. Baron Rothschild and his friends bought the land from the Ottomans. They owned nearly 70% of the land that became Israel. In fact, there are still areas owned by this family. The British Mandate from the League of Nations was to create that Jewish homeland. Tell me how the British could issue a White Paper in 1939 limiting and then denying Jewish entry. Explain why the Jews were forbidden the ability to defend themselves when the English knew what is going to happen when they left? Oh, oil....

This camp is horrifying on so many levels, but our day is not going to end on a depressing note.

Two wonderful events happen this evening. I could not foretell how I would react, but I want to share my feelings with you.

It is Friday. At 4:15 PM, I go into the main lobby of our beautiful hotel, the Dan Carmel in the hills high above Haifa. There I join other Jewish women to light Shabbat candles. To do this in Israel is quite a remarkable and wonderful event. I cry.

Then, in the evening, we attend Shabbat services in the hotel. These services are arranged by Margaret Morse Tours, and one of the guides, Allan, leads us. So many people attend that they run out of prayer books, and we share with our neighbors. Here we are, people from all around the U.S.A and from several other countries being led in prayer by an Israeli via England, and we are able to sing the same prayers in the same order to the same tunes. It is wonderful. No matter where I go in the world, the common language of Hebrew binds me together with other Jewish people in prayer. We are brethren.

Then the Margaret Morse family—we tourists—have a traditional Shabbat dinner in the dining room, saying the prayers over the wine and then over the challah which we share. There is a familial warmth that is impossible to describe, and on the second day of the tour there is a closeness among strangers.

Israel is a truly remarkable place. I am not alone in discovering the marvel. People of other religions—and we see busses and meet others in the hotel announcing their religions often by the tour tags they wear—will experience for themselves the wonder of this land because it is so important to all of us.

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ISRAEL'S HISTORY IS INSPIRING AND SADDENING

2010-12-03T20:50:00.006-05:00

The day in Israel begins with a very thought-provoking stop at the Yitzhak Rabin Memorial at the Municipal Building in the heart of Tel Aviv. Rabin was assassinated by an Israeli fanatic unhappy with Rabin’s attempts to make peace with Yassar Arafat.

The memorial is very modern and depicts upturned stones, the result of an earthquake—Rabin’s assassination. The bedrock, the foundation, loses its solidity. The Memorial speaks for itself, and we get the point.

Our next stop of the day is stunning--the 101 year old building housing the Eretz Israel Museum and once the home of Tel Aviv’s mayor. It was here, in Independence Hall, in front of 350 people on a Friday afternoon shortly before Shabbat that David Ben Gurion proclaimed the birth of the State of Israel.

Our guide in Independence Hall gives us a background of the city, but she also educates us about Israel’s birth pangs. She shows us the 1947 partition map Israel accepted but the Arabs rebuffed. The orange is the Jewish area; the yellow is the Arab area. The plan was to establish both an Israel and an Arab state, but we know that 62 years later, Israel is still not on all maps in the world.

In 1948, by the way, Israel was a functioning country with hospitals, schools, etc. Hebrew was spoken by the children even if their parents came as refugees speaking Yiddish. There was no need to start from scratch in this new nation. The British left on May 15 leaving their remaining weapons to the Arabs. Three hours after they left, Egypt bombed Tel Aviv.

The Israelis invited the Arab population to stay. 350,000 chose to leave anyway. The Arab countries expelled about 650,000 Jews. Israel also absorbed about 350,000 Holocaust survivors. Think about it.

Our guide also said that tourists visiting Israel often think that Israelis are used to the idea of war and go about unconcerned. There is nothing further from the truth, she says. She is a mother. Two of her children have already served in the army, and the third will be serving soon. It is never easy for a mother to send her children to the army. It is never possible to be used to the threat of war.

As we head back to our tour bus past buildings old and new, we walk on Baron Rothschild Boulevard. This is a wide avenue with a middle section as a tree-lined pedestrian mall. Tel Aviv is on the Mediterranean, and it is HOT. The trees provide shade and a bit of shelter and coolness from the heat. It is similar in purpose to the squares of Savannah, Georgia. Lovely.

We leave Tel Aviv on the road to Caesarea, King Herod’s magnificent work of architecture and art dedicated to Augustus Caesar. Caesarea was once the largest port in the Roman Empire.

We pass orange groves, melon fields, and fields of prickly pear cactus. As we past Netanya we are traveling along the road once known as the Via Maris, the ancient trade route that made this land so important. Much of the time the sea in on our right, and it is beautiful.

Caesarea is a National Park. Even before we enter the theater we see Roman statues of marble and granite. These we learn had to be imported either finished or in pieces because those stones are not found in Israel.

The statues were found missing heads, noses, or other vital organs, probably because civilizations following the Romans—Christians and Muslims—did not allow graven images.

The theater was one of the first areas excavated because it was visible from the air. Israel uses Herod’s theater TODAY! Imagine—Herod built Caesarea between 22 and 10 BCE.

We look out past Herod’s swimming pool—a freshwater pool with water from 20 miles away traveling through the still-standing aqueducts—that edged the Mediterranean.

There was the port there, a brilliant feat by Herod, a mad, homicidal genius. He partially filled boxes with pumice, floated them out on the water where they filled, sank, and the pumice turned to cement. He piled box upon box, and it was in that manner that he built his port!

Caesarea is famous for other events too: in 66 CE the great Jewish revolt, the Bar Kochba Rebellion, against the Romans began here. Rabbi Akiva was martyred here. Peter and Paul left from here to spread Christianity. The city’s end came as a result of attacks from the Marmelukes, earthquakes, and the Crusades. Perhaps most important is that a stone engraved with Pontius Pilate’s name was found here, proving historically that he and Jesus lived at the same time.

On to the Roman Hippodrome. This huge area had everything but Charleton Heston and Yul Brenner.

The seats on the sea side have washed down, but the far side of the stadium and its seats are there.

The course is long, but the ends are quite narrow, and there are the choice seats for the chariot accidents tended to happen on the dangerous turns. The Hippodrome is so intact that it is not
difficult to let imaginations run to those days, 2,000 years ago when this was an active recreation venue.

We also look at Roman baths and learn how they worked. Enough of the serious stuff. Our next stop was a Roman toilet. The two stones became the toilet seat, and underneath was a trough through which water ran to wash away waste products. No toilet paper however. By the feet was a shallow trough. A stick with a sponge sat in the water there, and the person used that to clean himself/herself.

Enough? OK.

Caesarea was extraordinary—awesome in the true sense of the word. Once again, our guide, David, was brilliant in his explanations and knowledge.

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HOW'S THIS FOR A FULL DAY OF TOURING AROUND TEL AVIV?

2010-11-27T21:41:00.003-05:00

We leave Tel Aviv to explore some of its surrounding areas and are immediately struck by strange looking contraptions on the roof tops. They are solar hot water heaters. Each appears to be a big hot water tank hooked to one or two solar panels. 98% of Israel uses solar hot water! Each unit costs only about $300.00! Amazing, inexpensive, and efficient.

Our conversation turns to Israel’s accomplishments in the past 62 years in using the environment in a more friendly manner. Today Israel recycles about 70% of its water for agricultural use.

The conversation continues as we drive through Rehovot, the city known as the City of Science and Culture, Israel’s tech center as well as its citrus center. We see citrus groves all along the road north to one of Israel’s National Historic Sites, the Ayalon Institute, for a bit of modern Israeli history of the period just before Israel’s creation as a state in 1948. After the War of Independence this site became the kibbutz Ma’agan Michael, and The Ayalon Institute’s goal is education.

Remember that the British restricted Jewish immigration in 1939, effectively sealing off escape routes for European Jews, and they outlawed weapons even as the Arabs refused to accept the 1947 partition of the land into an Arab and a Jewish state. No one doubted that a war would ensue. The Jews would have to protect themselves.

At this site, originally a training camp for agricultural workers, the Haganah opened a bullet factory that produced more than 2 million bullets between 1946 and 1948. The machinery was smuggled in from Poland beginning around 1938. The Haganah arranged for delivery, but it took seven years to get the machines in, assembled and ready for use. The site was the camp’s laundry and bakery, and the factory was below the laundry in an area 100’ long, 35’ wide and 35’ deep. This area was completed in a mere three weeks. There was an underground connection to the bakery.

Locating the factory beneath the laundry was a stroke of brilliance. The noise of the laundry muffled the noise of the factory. Fresh air was channeled into the factory through the laundry’s chimney. The bakery’s chimney was used to exhaust stale air from the factory. The heavy laundry machines had to be moved in order to gain access to the steep stairway leading to the factory.

The soap on the floors of the laundry as well as the odors covered the smell of gunpowder. The bullets made here were important in the early stages of the War of Independence—the war that commenced almost as soon as Israel was declared an independent state.

Our day is not over after this eye-opener. We head to Tel Aviv University for lunch (yes, everything in my last post and up until now occurs in the AM) and then to their on-site Diaspora Museum (no photos allowed) where we look at art, models, artifacts, and displays of Jewish communities throughout the world dating back 2,500 years when the Jewish tribes were exiled from the land of Israel. There are stunning exhibits of Jewish communities in different countries of the world. Very often there are models of synagogues created by Jews reflecting the cultures, architectural styles, and fashions they absorbed in their new countries while still retaining their religion and identity. It’s a stirring museum one should not miss.

As we drive back to our hotel, we have a great deal to ponder. We’d seen sites dating to the Bronze Age; we’d seen homes with solar powered water heaters. We’d seen evidence of exile, self-determination and struggle. Yes, a great deal to ponder…but no time to worry.

This evening is an opening dinner dance and we meet Wendy Morse, owner of our tour company and learn that there is a member of the family on every tour the company offers. She’s personable and friendly, and we understand that her presence means everything the company says will happen will meet her high standards and our expectations! Our dinner dance in a ballroom of the Dan Panorama Hotel is strictly for our tour. The music is fine, and we are up and ready to dance the night away!

travel trips vacations destinations tours "Third Age Traveler" "third age" photography "travel photos" "travel trips" "Margaret Morse Tours" world "middle East" Israel "Tel Aviv" Rehovoth fruits citrus science solar "solar hot water" recycling kibbutz agriculture weaponry bullets factory war education "Tel Aviv University" "Diaspora Museum" synagogues culture architecture dancing

ISRAEL--EVERYONE SHOULD VISIT!

2010-11-23T22:42:00.004-05:00

My earliest memories of my grandfather’s Passover seders include the hopeful words for all Jewish people, “Next year in Jerusalem.” This year I made it. Not only did I welcome the Shabbat at the Western Wall but also I became Bat Mitzvah on Mt. Scopus overlooking Jerusalem. Little did I realize how the fulfillment of that yearly Passover wish would release feelings I didn’t know I had.

Mixed up with travel, religion, and history in our two-week trip to Israel is an emotional component both surprising and enriching. Our Margaret Morse Tour was, by far, the most perfectly orchestrated Israeli experience I could have imagined. Our guide, David, displayed encyclopedic knowledge, and as I share my experience and photos with you, I must say, “Go to Israel!”

How apropos to begin our trip to Israel in Tel Aviv. The name itself comes from Theodore Hertzl’s “Old New Land” or “Tel” meaning “old” and “Aviv” referring to the Spring of the year (new). This city and its environs reflect the bustling modernity of business, architecturally modern skyscrapers, and first rate hotels juxtaposed with Jaffa, not only the oldest part of Tel Aviv but also the oldest port in the world!

Jaffa is quite an eye-opener as we drive from our beautiful Dan Panorama Hotel overlooking the Mediterranean. Jaffa was a crowded walled city in the 1790s when it was the entrance to the land. Israel, in restoring this area, seeks to maintain its original character. The narrow, twisting cobblestone streets and stone buildings and steps remain as do the zodiac signs on the buildings, a reminder that the inhabitants were fishermen who lived by the stars.

A hostel to help newcomers learn the ways of the country remains as does the apartment where the idea of an army to protect the immigrant farmers out in the country. That army developed into the Haganah.

By far the most stunning reminder that we are merely blips in a long procession of civilizations is our arrival at Tel Jaffa. “Tel” is an archeological dig, and there are 22,000 tels in Israel, most waiting to be studied because of the enormous expense. Uncovered at Tel Jaffa are 25 levels of civilization, and we visit an Egyptian section where the wall dates to 3,300 BCE (Before the Common Era). That’s the Bronze Age.

Not only do we see the wall, but also rooms.

I’ve never seen anything like this outside a museum, but here the tel exists along a walkway to a park, a natural part of the landscape.

This is just the beginning of jaw-dropping moments because Jaffa’s history is phenomenal. While today’s Jaffa has its artist colony, nightlife, and restaurants, it is difficult to forget it was founded by Noah’s son, Japhet, that cedar trees from Jaffa were used by King Solomon to build the Temple in Jerusalem, that the Greeks believed that in the waters here Poseidon chained Andromeda who was rescued by Perseus, that Jonah sailed from here only to meet a whale, that one can still visit Simon the Tanner’s house where St. Peter stayed and realized the gospels had to go beyond Judaism’s confines, that Richard the Lionhearted built a citadel here that was promptly taken by Saladin, and on and on.

St. Peter's Church

In Abrasha Park overlooking the Mediterranean stands the Statue of Faith illustrating Jacob’s Dream, the sacrifice of Isaac, and the Fall of Jericho. I can see past the city of Tel Aviv across the entire country to the Judean Hills, and I am acutely aware of Israel’s vulnerability and the fragility of its 8,500 square miles.

This, we are soon to learn, is Israel, a dichotomy of old and new continuing the struggle of its existence.

travel trips vacations destinations "Third Age Traveler" "third age" photography "travel photos" "travel tips" world "Middle East" Israel "Tel Aviv" tours "Margaret Morse" "Dan Panorama" Mediterranean Jaffa "Western Wall" Shabbat seas oceans ports archeology digs tels Egypt "St. Peter" churches Solomon David Jerusalem statues "Statue of Faith" "Judean Hills" seders Hertzl Technorati zodiac "Bronze Age" Noah Bible history

2010-10-30T23:12:00.002-04:00

There’s no place like home, and Rick & Pam, and Rob & I drove up through Orange and Ulster Counties last weekend to see the peak of the autumn colors.

We began here in Warwick and drove up to New Paltz on route 208 to 299 to catch the mountains up to Mohonk blaze out the oranges and yellows—right up to the sky.

We drove back down 55 to where it merged with 208, and that’s where we caught the views of the trestle.

The weather was mild, so this was a perfect day. Some people are griping because this is not the most beautiful fall ever, and maybe the reds are not as vibrant as they might be, but it’s beautiful around here, so I will simply share it with you in photos.

The colors have passed their peak now, but tuck this drive away for next year. It will make you feel good inside.

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OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN VICTORIA'S BUTCHART GARDENS

2010-10-20T17:12:00.009-04:00

One million bedding plants of seven hundred varieties are used in Vancouver's Victoria Island's Butchart Gardens to insure continuous bloom from March until October. Therefore, that Rob and I are wonderfully overwhelmed by our visit to this 55 acre, family-owned floral extravaganza is not in the least bit surprising.

Butchart Gardens is a National Historic Site of Canada. It was once offered to the government but it unwisely refused. Today, more than a century after their inception, a million people a year pay to visit the gardens, enjoying not only its floral beauty, but the sculpture, the exquisite lighting designs, and the weekly fireworks displays.

Our visit to Butchart Gardens is a continuation of the tour to Victoria Island our Vancouver hotel's concierge arranged for us. As we enter the Gardens, we are greeted to a breath-taking panoramic view of rolling terrain and serpentine paths lined with vibrantly colored flowers: begonias, bleeding hearts, snapdragons to name but a few. These Gardens grew in stages, the conception of Jennie Butchart whose husband became rich making cement at the turn of the century. Around 1908 when he exhausted a limestone quarry near their house, Jennie turned that into the first of the Gardens, the magnificent Sunken Gardens.

By 1908, they added the Japanese Gardens and then the Italian Garden. Meanwhile, Mr. Butchart, who collected exotic birds from all over the world, had elaborate birdhouses set up among the gardens. He kept ducks in the Star Pond. He trained pigeons in what is now the Begonia Bower.

By the 1920s, word of the beautiful Gardens spread. Fifty thousand people visited annually, and the Butcharts named the avenue leading to the Gardens "Benvenuto Ave." meaning "Welcome" in Italian. They lined the path with flowering cherry trees purchased from the Yokohama Nursery in Japan. The walk to the entrance is so beautiful that we are blown away when we realize we haven't even begun to experience Butchart Gardens.

You will love visiting their website where they detail the events, let visitors know which flowers will be blooming when they visit, and offer a wealth of other information.I can offer you some background, but photos cannot adequately capture the lush, vibrant colors or the serene atmosphere visitors experience as they wander through the Gardens and drink in the charm and beauty. If we thought this visit would be anti-climactic after the amazing natural sights we had experienced on this trip, we were mistaken. This is one more place on this earth that is too good to be missed.

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VICTORIA, BC--DON'T MISS A CHANCE TO SPEND TIME HERE

2010-10-02T13:09:00.003-04:00

On our last “outing” of this journey, we board our concierge-booked tour bus that travels along Rt. 99—The Pan American Highway which goes all the way to South America—and head for the BC Ferry Terminal and our trip to Victoria Island. The terminal is a destination in itself with shopping, cafes so used to international visitors that the computerized cash registers adapt to the country of the money of the moment.

In Victoria we have time to explore before our biggest destination. We get off in Chinatown, once the largest Chinatown in North America. We walk through Fan Tan Alley, once a hotbed of gambling and opium dens and now a place of pleasant shops. The alley was named after the gambling game, and it once led to a labyrinthian maze that was then Chinatown. Today only 3,000 Chinese residents live here

When we see a tour bus drop some Chinese tourists in front of a restaurant, we know that is the place to be, and we have an incredibly delectable bowl of soup filled with roast duck and wontons.

After lunch we stroll back down the hill toward the water, looking at the shops and sights, buying some chocolate, and being amazed at the number of bikes until we learn the cost of parking in the city--$2.50 an hour with no repeats.

Artists have contributed eagles to auction for charity, and they decorate the city. There is also a totem pole dedicated to the First People. This is a beautiful city on the water with marinas, varied architecture, good hotels, a zillion flowers and plenty to see—more than we can cover in this short time because we are off to the famous Butchart Gardens.

travel trips vacations destinations "Third Age Traveler" "third age" photography "travel photos" "travel tips" Canada Victoria water boats ferries Chinatown "Fan Tan Alley" fan tan restaurants food "Chinese food" bicycles "street art" art flowers totem
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At Long Last Vancouver

2010-09-22T21:52:00.010-04:00

When we disembark in Vancouver, we’ve got a lovely afternoon in a beautiful, young, vibrant city geared toward outdoor activities. The temperate climate allows for palm trees! That’s not something we usually think of when we think of Canada. Our suite hotel is just two short blocks to English Beach and Vancouver’s seawall that stretches along the water and gives outdoor enthusiasts delightful opportunities.

The high rise buildings create neighborhoods. Ours is an international one, and we might never leave it for the diversity of restaurants!

The densely populated neighborhoods leave plenty of green areas and spaces for flowers, marinas, and paths for biking and walking. We saw people engaged in every kind of sport imaginable, right down to jugglers. We watched roller hockey where one of the team members was a woman. Never forget we are in Canada.

English Bay is full of boats, sailboats, kayaks, and big tankers and steamers. We even watched an amphibious vehicle. You can see it behind the photo of some young Canadian Huck Finns playing on the rocks.

On a promontory overlooking the Bay is a stone statue of Inukshuk, the Inuit symbol of friendship and hospitality. Lovely. Inukshuk is the symbol chosen for the Winter Olympics held here in 2010. We visited in the fall of 2009.

We also took the Aquaboat to Granville Island and its rightfully famous Farmers’ Market. My photos will give you a taste of the magnificence here.

There’s entertainment as well, and this young man’s act outshines anything we’ve seen on a cruise ship! He was a juggler, an acrobat, a skateboarder, and an entertainer who involved his audience. Truly entertaining and truly professional!

I must add a WONDERFUL MEMORY MOMENT:
Enjoying a coffee outside the market, I spot a woman reading The Guernsey Literary & Potato Pie Society. I see her pause, look up in thought, and smile or laugh aloud. I can’t resist. I go over and we book-talk. She is visiting from England. Her reactions to The Guernsey….mirror mine, but when she mentions similarities with 84 Charing Cross Road, it blows me away. My dear friend, Mike, sent that to me as a present many years ago, and I cherish that book. Here I am sitting with this woman, and I have found a kindred spirit.

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THE GLASS CASTLE--IT CAN BE BROKEN

2010-09-13T22:34:00.003-04:00

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What a strange memoir Jeannette Walls writes in The Glass Castle. Here is the extraordinary story of a family that is incredibly broken. Jeannette’s parents are impressive and abusive at the same time, and while their eccentricities may be personal choices, dragging children into these choices can be seen as nothing short of abuse. Yet, amazingly, though Rose Mary and Rex Walls emerge as villains, they are not villains the reader hates.

Through Walls’ matter-of-fact, unsentimental style devoid of pop-psychology and analysis, she accomplishes the feat of allowing her parents to be real and free of condemnation while she tells a story filled with horrific events including a hasty getaway where her father blithely tosses their cat out the window of his moving car, a severe burning resulting in skin grafts and six weeks in a hospital because at four years old Jeannette is left unattended to boil her own hotdogs, and a lack of parental concern when she is sexually molested by a neighbor and then later by her uncle The horrific and inexcusable experiences Rose Mary and Rex Walls foisted upon their children they called “adventures,” and for a long while Jeannette, her brother and two sisters believed that was the exciting truth. A reader, however, is dumb-struck with disbelief.

As horrible and unsuited to parenthood as the Wallses were, their children grew in resilience rather than in hatred. Rose Mary and Rex were educated people who chose the life they led. Though possessing a teaching degree, Rose Mary saw herself as an artist and rebelled against working to earn a living. Rex lost jobs as an engineer. When Rex’s drinking problem left the family unable to buy food, Jeannette resorted to rummaging in school garbage bins for discarded lunches. As teenagers the children formed a plan to escape to New York and to help one another escape as each graduated from high school. They worked and saved the necessary money only to have Rex steal it from them. Undaunted, they began anew, and they prevailed.

In the end the three oldest children succeeded in breaking away and making good lives for themselves. Even then they did not push their parents aside.

Jeannette Walls’ astounding recollections, her spare style, and her lack of judgmental attitude allow the reader to enter the fanciful world of the glass castle Rex Walls tantalizingly created for his children. Yet the reader also sees the horrors and abuse he mesmerized them into accepting.

I found it difficult to visualize some of the events Walls records, and I was amazed at this memoir’s resolution. Walls has also written Half Broke Horses, the story of her grandmother whom we briefly meet in The Glass Castle but whose negative influence on Rex is strongly suggested. I think the somewhere down the road, I will be traveling with that book too. There is obviously so much more to Walls’ story.

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OUR LAST STOP IN ALASKA--KETCHIKAN

2010-09-02T21:41:00.006-04:00

Just when I think I’ve been wowed enough in Alaska, we sail into our last port, Ketchikan, located in the heart of the Tongass National Forest, the nation’s largest at 17 million acres. I’ve been writing about ice and snow. Ketchikan sits in the middle of a temperate rain forest. The yearly rainfall is 162 inches! It rains almost 240 days a year. In the higher altitudes there is ice, but it leads to grassy wetlands, rivers, and lush forests that are homes to a myriad of animals, fish, and birds. So abundant and fertile is this land that the original people, the Tlingit tribe, had no word for starvation. WOW!

We enter downtown Ketchikan passing under the arch proclaiming it the Salmon Capital of the World, and it is home of all five species of salmon who depend on the streams and waters of the Tongass for spawning, leaving their roe on the gravel.

With a Walking Tour Map obtained at the Visitor Center, we walk this town which essentially climbs up the mountain. The original streets were either wooden planks or steps. This is a town of people working hard as fisherman or guides catering to the tourist trade.

THIS STREET IS MARRIED MAN'S TRAIL. LOVED THE NAME.

The most amazing point on our tour is the fish ladder in Ketchikan creek. As we climb so do the salmon, and there are fish ladders to help them in their struggle to get to the top to spawn. Yes, the gravel beds of Ketchikan are the end of the salmon struggle, and incredibly they are so thick in numbers that the shallow streams are black with them. Rob and I stay at the ladders a long time, mesmerized watching those who did not enter the ladders try to jump to the next level.

In this video, you can see how turbulent the water is moving down the mountain while those black blips are salmon trying to go against the forces to climb up to the spawning grounds. It’s an awesome sight—very sad, I think.

At the top where the fish are thick, young boys, today’s Huckleberry Finns, are barefoot in the water with fish nets or quick hands, some even shedding their jeans to wade in their underwear trying to catch the salmon. As with all of Alaska, we’re in another world, and it’s beautiful to watch.

The boy in the striped shirt actually DID catch one with his hands!

We take a tour of the Deer Mountain Tribal Hatchery and Eagle Center where we see how the fish are studied, bred, and released. They release more than 300,000 fish annually.

This also is an eagle rescue center, and there are several magnificent and regal birds in residence.

Across from the hatchery is the Totem Heritage Center, a museum dedicated to the preservation of the totem poles including original unrestored examples. Many were carved by native artists in the heyday of totem pole carving in the middle of the 19th century. This center, too, is fascinating, and the self-guided tour allows us to really get a good look at the carvings and learn some of the symbols native carvers used.

Walking back downtown, we come to Creek Street

which became the red light district in 1903 when the City Council ordered the bordellos to relocate across the creek from the town. At one time there were thirty-eight bordellos here. When the city outlawed prostitution in 1953, Creek Street became a mixed residential and commercial area. It was here I finally succumbed to an urge and bought a piece of the Orocal jewelry I’d seen in Anchorage but resisted. Beautiful! But I saw another example of Alaskan humor.

It was a little sad walking back to the Coral Princess knowing we were leaving for Vancouver. We’d been told that our next trip to Alaska should begin at Kodiak or Sitka where we’d see a totally different Alaska. I’d like to do that. I’d also like to come back and spend a few winter weeks in Anchorage. Just to see what it's like. You never know.

This is an awesome place. Spend as much time here as you possibly can to experience as much of the diversity as you can. America is beautiful, and you really don’t want to miss this!

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