The Sea of Galilee

The Sea of Galilee

Monday we were up and out of the door for a bus to the Lower Sea of Galilee. We decided last minute to go to Tiberias, the guidebook said it was the ultimate tacky experience and included two abandoned mosques. Plus there were beaches. So, we decided to buck the whole religious aspect and go tourist trap.

We enjoyed the view of the city as we wound down the mountain to the lake. We happily got off the bus and found the best falafel in town just across the bus station (it was delicious), and then we wandered into the main part of town. There were a few people on the main street, eating lunch at the shops, but there wasn’t anyone on the promenade. Not a soul. Shops were closed, except for a few restaurants and a bored looking ice cream seller.  

We stopped and saw the Crusader’s Catholic Church with its Polish monument. It was quite a pretty little spot nestled between modern buildings. But it had not livened up at all during our time in the church—the promenade was still dead. It was very dirty too. Garbage and disheveled buildings lined the promenade and please, do not look into the water.

We saw a couple swimming around one of the old fortress walls, so we headed back into town to try to find how they got into the water. We found one pay beach, but no one was guarding the beach, so we went down. Peacocks wandered the yard, and a few tourists were there, out of the water. There was no beach, just a ledge to jump in. It didn't match the pictures and was very, very odd. We left and tried to find another way into the water. We passed the burned out hotel clinging to the hill, past the Scottish Church, and around the corner by a dumpster we found the free beach or rather, garbage dump. It had started raining, so we sadly wound our way back to the main part of town for a beer to drown our sorrows.

Cool architecture in Tiberias

We were quite disappointed, but then again, no trip to Israel would be complete without a trip to the Sea of Galilee. I recommend though, that people go to the north sea instead of the lower. Despite our disappointment, we managed to kill several hours there and still made it home rather late that night.

Tuesday was a beach day, we spent all day in the huge, amazing waves. By the time we got back to the house and showered, everything was closed because of the holiday. So we went to the Russian market and purchased some dinner staples and made dinner. By the time we had finished dinner the taxi Inbal had ordered was there and we had to go to the airport.

Unfortunately, security in Israel takes FOREVER. I actually managed to go through the bag scan quickly, but had to wait forever to get my bags rummaged through, and some of my souvenirs shipped because they were deemed “unsafe.” By the time this was finished, I could only quickly say goodbye to Matt. I wisely jumped into the security line early, it took two hours to get through the security.  I reached my gate just shortly before boarding to find out that the weight was weird on the plane so many stand-by passengers would have to sit in coach. Thankfully, I was THE last priority to get business class. THANK YOU!

The rest of the trip was uneventful. I made it to Boise earlier than scheduled and met my parents. Unfortunately, Mom got pneumonia the next day, so her birthday was not as great as we all had hoped. She is now feeling better, thankfully. 

Alive at the Dead Sea

We woke up bright and early Thursday morning to catch the Egged Bus to the Dead Sea. It was quite a long bus ride. First the bus went to Jerusalem and then followed the West Bank down to the sea. The sea has receded into two different seas now (the sea recedes about 50 meters per year). The upper sea is mainly military land, desert, and a few resorts. The guidebook recommended heading to the free beach, Ein Bokek, on the smaller sea.

Ein Bokek was a great free beach, better than I expected. There were open showers, some changing rooms, a pay bathroom, and a restaurant. You could also rent chairs and umbrellas if you so wish, but we have no problem laying down a rug and staying in the sun. However, I was beginning to wish for an umbrella when temperatures topped 44⁰C (111⁰ F). Instead we grabbed a beer at the restaurant in front of the ice fans to cool off and escaped the steady line of children running from the sea screaming in agony because they tried to put their face underwater. I don’t recommend bringing children to the Dead Sea.

We somehow managed to not get salt in our eyes or mouths, though the salt irritated a two day old shaving burn. It also healed up the scratch I received from a stray cat. The Dead Sea, once thought to be the Devil’s land, is quite healing. You will be petting your skin for days after visiting the sea.

Friday was a lazy day. We did not even leave the apartment until close to four. This time Inbal was able to come with us to the beach. We had a lovely hour in the sun and high waves before we had to pack it in because the cold evening breeze started. I was ready to pack it in, because the Mediterranean decided to make up for the lack of salt I received internally at the Dead Sea.

Inbal went to work and Matt and I walked along the promenade to Jaffa. Jaffa, just a few miles down the coast from Tel Aviv, is the supposed setting of Andromeda. It later became a major port for the Crusaders (Tel Aviv wasn’t settled yet), and Napoleon was there too.

We spent a long while taking night shots of Tel Aviv and Jaffa, enjoying the colonial architecture (including an old jail that is now home to thousands of bats), the maze of house walls, and Andromeda’s rock. We stopped and ate bagel sandwiches from the best baker in Israel, taking the bagels to go and ate them overlooking the sea and Tel Aviv. After eating, we found a bar and had Goldstar beer at a tiny table.

Jaffa

Saturday was spent at Inbal’s parents for Shabbat dinner. I learned how to play Sheshbesh and beat Matt at one game. After sundown, we hit a bar down the street from Matt’s for happy hour. Sunday we went back to Carmel Market for more souvenirs.

Hercules and the Templars

Monday was another “relaxing” day in Tel Aviv. We wandered back to Rabin Square and grabbed four flavors of falafel before heading to the Bauhaus and Carmel Market area to find a place to exchange Rubles. We then sifted through very cheaply-made and tacky souvenirs, before I finally found something worth purchasing. We closed the day eating peanut butter flavored crisps and watching the sun go down over the marina.

Tuesday we took the train north to Haifa. The main sites to see in Haifa are the German Colony and the Baha’i Gardens. If you are an ancient history buff, you may have heard of Haifa during Hellenistic times as a trade city and a dye-making city. Also, for you Bible buffs, this is the home to Mount Carmel and the Cave of Elijah. The Crusaders were here, as were the Ottomans, of course. Napoleon conquered it and even Egyptians had occupation of it for a while. Then the German Templars arrived in the 19^th Century and the Brits arrived again in the 20^th Century.

We started our tour of Haifa at the top of the mountain and the top of the Baha’I Gardens. We arrived half an hour before the free tour started, thinking we’d have plenty of time to poke around and take photos before the tour began. Wrong, we held our place in line for the half hour, glaring down line jumpers as only 50 tourists per day are allowed in the gardens.

Our tour guide was quick to be rid of us. She gave us a very brief history of the gardens and Baha’I faith. The rest of the speech was to get all her charges onto the main steps. Though, we all ignored her and wandered a little from the steps. I would have liked to see more than just the main steps of the gardens, but they were still quite beautiful with fountains, perfect palms, red flowers, and happy lizards darting to and fro.

After the garden, we dragged our hungry and thirsty bodies (I recommend taking water to the gardens), to the German Colony below the Baha’I Gardens. We found a cheap, nice sandwich shop run by a charming Arab man. I ordered a duck sandwich and Matt had a schnitzel sandwich and visited with the man. After eating, we poked around downtown a bit more before heading back to the train station.

At the train station we avoided the taxi drivers and hopped onto a train to Akko (or Acre as it is called in English—why???). According to legend, this is where Hercules came to heal his wounds. This was a major ancient port city that soon surpassed its neighbor, Haifa. It especially became important during the Crusades where Crusaders massacred any non-Christian residents.  During the British occupation in the 20^th Century, Akko’s prison housed many of the Jewish freedom leaders.

We first wandered the newer part of Akko to the waterfront. From the water front we checked out the large tidal pools where we found a dead sea turtle (the first sea turtle we have seen in the wild). After I got to see a tiny black crab scuttle across the rocks, I allowed us to go check out the walls of the prison.

From the prison we wandered into the old city of Akko—think of Jerusalem on a slightly smaller scale, though it is just as much as a labyrinth. We spent several hours looking around ancient buildings, scoping out more bazaars, and watching wedding photo shoots at the prison and the harbor. After we became too exhausted to stand, we sat on a bench and watched a ferry boat full of Arab school girls and their chaperones run around and dance.

We arrived back in Tel Aviv at the Azrieli very late at night. We stopped and took some night shots and visited with one of Matt’s old co-workers who was enjoying a night out. We then returned to the apartment to enjoy a beer and relax our tired feet.

We finally allowed ourselves a beach day on Tuesday. We got a bit confused on our way to the beach (Tel Aviv streets are so confusing!), but we made it to the sea eventually. We spent several hours body surfing and laying in the sun. It was a wonderful day—and I managed not to get too sunburned! We only left the beach because we were starving. We ate some vegetarian schnitzel at the house and when Inbal arrived home, we headed out for a sauce-less cheese pizza. 

Jerusalem and Tel Aviv

Security was so easy to get through at the Moscow airport. I had plenty of time to sit back and have some breakfast and leisurely walk onto the plane when it was boarding time. I got right behind first class, so I had plenty of leg room. I got to sit and watch as the Russians tried to decipher the English alphabet to find their seats. After the seating was sorted out, we were all given menus in English and Turkish. I was sitting next to two elderly Russian ladies. I did my best to translate the menu into Russian and then ordered the meals for the ladies. A few minutes later, the flight attendant asked me to help translate the menu for a few other people. Apparently, the English-speaking Russians wanted to avoid helping others.

Relations between Turkey and Israel are normally pretty rocky. As soon as I got off the plane I had to go through special passport control and questioning to be able to proceed onto security. Then tight security before being spit back out to the international terminal. I had four hours, which I spent between the many duty free shops. After I got tired of wandering back and forth between the shops and debating if I should shell out $15 for a small coffee (I didn’t), I was ping-ponged back and forth between gates. I would have been irritated if I didn’t have to watch the poor security guys set up, take down, move gates, set up, and take down over and over again. Yes, you guessed it, I had to go through one more passport control before boarding the plane.

I arrived in Tel Aviv shortly after midnight. Passport control took five seconds, bags unloaded quickly, and customs waved me through. Matt was waiting for me with a sign written in Hebrew. We stood outside talking for quite a bit before we realized that we should really get a cab into Tel Aviv. Matt impressed me with his newly acquired Hebrew skills as we rode to the apartment.

We all woke at a decent time considering our late night. Matt’s girlfriend, Inbal, went to her grandparents’ for Shabbat dinner. Matt made some of his amazing coffee and we headed out for a six-hour walking tour of beautiful Tel Aviv.  The tour included Rothschild Boulevard, Dizengoff Fountain, Rabin Square, the promenade, the early settlement area, an amazing lunch of pita, hummus, and olives, and meeting the infamous neighborhood shop keeper.

The next day we managed to get up fairly early in order to catch the bus to Jerusalem. Since I hate sitting on a bus in traffic, we walked to the Central Bus Station. It is in the “bad” part of town, which actually is kind of scary after dark. This end of town shelters the thousands of homeless and jobless African refugees. So, it looks rougher than it really is, but no one wants to test that theory.

Matt managed to stay awake on this bus trip and pointed out various landmarks along the way through the olive groves, vineyards, desert, and mountains. Honestly, Israel reminds me of Modesto to Sacramento in dry season.  Once in Jerusalem we stopped by Obama Shawarma and had a hearty meal before catching the bus to the old city.

Jerusalem is an arms race of Muslim and Orthodox Jews trying to have as many babies as possible. So, everywhere you look are double prams pushed by pregnant women with more children trailing after them. I got a quick lesson in the different sects of Judaism as we sat stuck in traffic.

Finally we arrived at the old city, quite a distance away from where we were supposed to meet the tour. We decided to rush our way to Jaffa Gate to meet the group, but we got lost in the winding maze that is Old City and arrived a few minutes after the tour had left (it is quite possible it was also canceled), so Matt became my tour guide. Of course we both forgot my fear of heights as we purchased the tickets to the ramparts and walked the entire wall. It wasn’t so bad, but it wasn’t so good up there in the heat of the day. I recommend doing it though!

A common street in Jerusalem.

We left the ramparts between Lion’s Gate and Damascus Gate (I became really friendly with Damascus Gate). We then jumped into the labyrinth that is the Old City. We visited the birthplace of the Virgin Mary, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Jesus’s tomb), the Via Dolorosa (the path that Jesus walked with the cross), and the Western Wall, (the Dome of the Rock was closed). We wandered through bazaars nestled in the narrow streets. Some areas are not recommended if you are claustrophobic or easily sickened by animal legs and heads. But at least try basbousa from a shop in the Muslim quarter.

After we figured we had enough of the Old City (though, I think you could live there for years and not discover everything in its dark crevices), we visited Virgin Mary’s tomb just as it was closing. And unfortunately, the World and Russian churches on the Mount of Olives were closed by the time we reached them. So we turned to the left and took some stairs leading directly to the top of the Mount of Olives. As we first started to climb the steps, olive groves and forgotten fields were to our left, while garden walls were to our right. Just when I thought I couldn’t go any further, we came across a small mosque with a white goat happily munching on the weeds. I turned my head from the mosque to a village built upon the steps—white apartments hung to the steps with rugs, laundry, and flowers hanging over the balcony rails. Women in hijab poked their head over the rails to call to their children playing ball or rollerblading on the steps.

We emerged from the village to be greeted with extremely modern apartments and a camel relaxing at a roundabout near another mosque. We walked along the modern buildings to the Jewish cemetery to get the perfect view to the Old City as the sun went down. As it was completely dark by the time we had finished taking photos, we took a short cut between garden walls and the cemetery that wound its way in front of the Russian Monastery—we were expecting to see biblical-era grave robbers at any moment. But we didn’t, unless a giant centipede qualifies.

Damascus Gate

We popped back into the old city to wander to Damascus Gate where we ate cold falafel and took the metrolink back to the bus station, which is a lot faster than the bus! We then took the bus back to Tel Aviv where we crashed in exhaustion. 

Finishing Off April

Again, a month has passed without an update. This time, a lot has happened in a month! So I will post a series of blogs to catch you up on what’s been going on.  Here it begins with the last month of April:

My roommate accepted his dream job as an animator/entertainer in Cyprus, so he had to leave Moscow on the 27^th. We spent the last weekend wandering around the forest near our apartment. The forest was quite enjoyable as spring was starting to show, but many of the paths were still blocked by large piles of snow or sticky, sinky mud.

The week after my roommate left was quite relaxing. I didn’t have any lessons, so I met up with my adult student for lunch and to say goodbye(she was going to her summer home). The rest of the week I sat around doing nothing, not even packing.

May First was a holiday in Russia, celebrating Communism. Everything was shut down, so Kieran, Katy, and I wandered around a bit of Moscow. We enjoyed the sun and the heat as we walked past 18^th century to20th century architectures nestled together in various states of upkeep. After stopping and enjoying a beer at a Kozel brewery, we took the train a couple of hours north to a town called Sergiev Posad. It is a town built around a monastery. Unfortunately, half the monastery was under construction, but it was still a beautiful place to visit.

The day was so sunny and beautiful I didn’t spend much time wandering around the dark caverns of the churches. In fact, shortly after we reached the Lavre, all the masses started. The chants and bells rang through the entire monastery, so I sat on a bench in the sun next to newly bloomed snowdrops and enjoyed spring to the fullest.

On the way back from Sergiev Posad, I enjoyed watching birch forests fly past and quaint little towns with quaint little names like “43 Kilometer” (which is 43 kilometers from Moscow).  All of the towns were burning their garbage, giving a ghostly mist to the towns glowing in the twilight.

Katy, Kieran, and Jack gave me a great send off the night before I left for Israel. At first it had me questioning why I was leaving Moscow so soon but by the end of the night when the drama escalated, I remembered why I was so anxious to leave. There were no regrets when I boarded the plane, except maybe, being able to see the birch forests with leaves.