Home away from home, home sweet home

By the time of this printing we’re (hopefully, safely!) home sweet home, back to our New York family, after a dozen stops around Israel. We are now processing, regrouping, recollecting and washing piles of post-trip laundry. Since that tedium is not fit for print, instead I hope you’ll indulge my descriptions of our post Sukkot travels, the last leg of our trip.

The sun didn’t wake us during our first morning back in Tel Aviv; instead we opened our eyes to a dark cloudy sky. This was surely going to ruin my dream of spending one day soaking up vitamin D and swimming in the beautifully hued warm Mediterranean. We felt the air get heavier, then watched the clouds suddenly spew out a torrential downpour. The roads immediately flooded, the sand filled with huge puddles and the summer dust turned into mud.

This was Tel Aviv’s “yoreh” - its first rain of the season. The just reinstated, seasonal prayer for rain seemed to have been immediately answered! And my wish was fulfilled, too, because within the hour, the clouds moved on, the water receded and the beach lovers and “matkot” players reveled.

We were awakened each morning in Israel by the early dawn light, but in Tel Aviv, by the “clok, clok, clok” of the paddle game ubiquitous along Israel’s shoreline. Thankfully, the matkot players are all expert level, sparing us from getting hit in the head by that speedily whacked dense ball. A walk on the beach is lovely, but the tayelet was safer as we walked miles from the Namal, the Tel Aviv port at the north end, down to Jaffa at the southern point. The ever awesome sunset was the prize for our exercising efforts.

Onward with David’s auntie and cousins from Nahariya to kibbutz Beit Alfa near Sachne for the weekend, which in Israel means Thursday night through Shabbat. We passed beautiful scenery on our drive to the kibbutz, and noticed the white cotton fields ready to be picked. We learned that the “yoreh” had not yet fallen in this part of the country; all these plants must be harvested before the rainfall so as not to spoil the crop.

Friday was a beautiful day for swimming in Sachne’s pools, fed by springs whose temperature stays constant throughout the year, comfortable and refreshing. The water is inhabited by small fish hanging around the steps, waiting to nibble human feet. This encouraged me to swim more energetically than usual since movement kept my body fish-free. We rode two hours back to Nahariya for a nostalgic night at Auntie

Esther’s home.

Our trip from Nahariya to Jerusalem was complicated by train stoppages and major Sunday morning traffic on the first day the country returned to “business as usual” after the holiday period. As we crawled southward in a taxi down to the closest working station, I heard the radio list traffic warnings about nearly every numbered highway. Kiryat Motzkin station was mobbed by soldiers and other commuters. We and our ever-present bags were pushed onto the train along with the crowds.

In Tel Aviv, we got seats on bus number 480, express to Jerusalem. The ride into Jerusalem always feels special. As the bus climbs upward, the quality of the air and scenery seem to as well. Jerusalem is a regular city with residential neighborhoods, but it is also a unique, incredible place. We walked countless kilometers, explored the old shuk, rode the new light rail, visited the Kotel and museums.

Restaurants abound and the warm weather invites outdoors seating. We rejoiced in our extended summertime as much as possible, knowing that we’re returning to fall and the cold winter. We ate our way through this city much as we did in Tel Aviv; falafel, kubbe, Israeli and Greek salads, fresh fruit smoothies, cafe hafuch and iced caffes (ice cream included), homemade hummus and local olives. Luckily, we walked off the calories!

We envisioned, awaited and planned this trip for so long that it’s hard to believe it is already just a memory. It was my husband’s decade long dream to have a lengthy vacation in Israel during the chagim, and we tried to make it come true. Though nothing can be perfect, many things happened exactly as we meticulously mapped out, while some ideas went by the wayside due to lack of time or momentum, and still others simply didn’t work out. A few days feeling sick, messed up train schedules and three nights in a bad b & b, were annoying but minor inconveniences that couldn’t possibly ruin the experience as a whole.

Our main motivations for this Israel visit were to spend time with our daughter, visit with family and friends, and rediscover the eternal connection we have to our “home away from home.” Those goals we certainly accomplished, along with so much more to contemplate and absorb. We feel blessed to have been able to realize this one version of an Israel dream, crisscrossing the country, seeing some of the land and its people.

Until next time, we bid Israel and our mishpacha “shalom u’lihitraot!”

Miriam Bradman Abrahams is Cuban born, Brooklyn bred and lives in Woodmere. She organizes author events for Hadassah, reviews books for Jewish Book World and is very slowly writing her father’s immigration story. She is teaching yoga at Peaceful Presence Yoga Studio. mabraha1@optonline.net