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

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

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.

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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

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



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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