"Well, Toto, I guess we're not in Kansas anymore."

We arrived in Israel today after a long flight from New York – made longer by the fact that we had to wait almost two hours as our plane was caught in “rush hour” traffic (as the pilot called it) behind several others waiting to take off. 

In any event, despite the length, it was a fun and funny experience. We were among a minority of secular Jews in a throng of ultra orthodox.  They weren’t too happy with me wearing my short pants and tie-dyed t-shirt.  Very “immodest” you know.  At the gate, waiting for a plane, I was approached by a nice young man with a long beard named Micha who, in his polite English accent asked me if I’d like to don tefillin. An entreaty which I, equally as politely in my American accent, declined. Everyone on the plane had ordered kosher meals except us, it seemed.  And the babies.  There were lots and lots of babies. After all, God said: “Be fruitful and multiply.” My ultra orthodox peeps had complied.

After we landed, Sam turned to me and said “Well Toto, I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.”  Indeed. After a brief scare when we, after quite some time, couldn’t find one of our pieces of luggage at the baggage claim (resolved), everything proceeded apace.  We exchanged some dollars for shekels. As we were exiting customs, we saw an old man with a sign that said “Ian Frank.”  Now, Ian Frank happens to be my brother in law and, in fact, he and his friend Mark would be joining us for part of the trip.  We actually weren’t sure when they would be arriving but, clearly, it was imminent.  So, Jen and the kids waited for them while I got our Israeli cell phone situation squared away at a nearby vendor.

How wonderful it was to meet “Uncle Bennie” and Mark as we all touched down in this ancient and new place!  After greeting each other, exchanging phone numbers, and chatting a bit,  Ian and Mark  headed to Tel Aviv. For us, however, the first stop on the Sherman’s Excellent Ancient Civilization Adventure would be just south of TA: Yafo (Jaffa). 

We hadn’t gotten much sleep on the plane, so everyone was tired, cranky, and edgy.  Poor little Ella, she hadn’t really slept a wink and was just exhausted.  But, she rallied and did her best to keep her cool. Jen was concerned about making sure we didn’t get ripped off by the cab driver, so she made sure he used his meter and, after an initial disagreement and some confusion about the cost, we were off. 

An hour later, we were in Yafo, at our apartment for the next few days.  The apartment is located in an Ottoman house, built in the early 1900s.  Our landlords are Issy and Paula.  Lovely people.  The place is wonderful.  Old, comfortable, full of character and located on quiet HaDolfin Street close to Old Jaffa, Ajami, the beach, and the flea market. Yafo is a predominantly Palestinian (or, if you prefer, Israeli Arab) town, so it has a unique feel.

19 HaDolfin Street, Yafo

After getting settled, we decided to take showers and meet Ian and Mark for dinner.  The sun was setting, casting a golden hue against the whitewashed buildings and, as it set, the amplified, plaintive voice of the muezzin arose from the nearby mosque, calling the pious to prayer. It was an extraordinary moment. Ella was impressed. It’s one of those things that, when you hear it, you really know you’re in a different world from the one you left only hours earlier.

We were tired but happy.  The shower felt great and everyone was in good spirits.  Ian and Mark came to our place and we walked from there to Old Jaffa.  Before we did so, Sam assumed the push-up position on the sidewalk in front of our place and kissed the ground.  “It’s holy land” he said.  Yes, he’s a weird kid.

It had gotten dark but the streets were abuzz and ablaze with summer tourists and locals. We entered Old Jaffa from Louis Pasteur Street and marveled at the oldest port in the world.  We passed by a sculpture of a whale.  This was, according to Biblical legend, the place of Jonah and the fish, after all.   

Ella explains the geopolitical ramifications of Napolean's visit to the Holy Land in Old Jaffa.

We marveled at the dark Mediterranean for a few minutes and then decided on a place to eat: Aladin.  Located overlooking the Med and with a wonderful view of the coast toward Tel Aviv, we sat at a table on the veranda in the warm, velvety July air. Ella looked at the bright lights of the city and exclaimed “Tel Aviv is awesome!” We ordered hummus, felafel, olives, pickles, kebabs, mussels, shrimp, schnitzel, beer, Sprite, apple juice, water, and vodka and tonics and chatted about everything and nothing. It was wonderfully relaxing. 

Jen, Ian, and Eminem yuk it up in Old Jaffa after dinner... (photo by Emines)

After dinner, we meandered back through the center of Old Jaffa, past St. Peter’s Monastery, and into Ajami, where we found the wonderful ice cream parlor Victory.  Located at the corner of Yefet and Yehuda MiRaguza it was perfect for people watching from the outside tables.  The menu was entirely in Hebrew so it gave us a chance to learn and to try and figure it out.  We weren’t very successful, but a nice young man behind the counter spoke enough English to get us what we wanted.  It was the best coffee chip ice cream I’d ever had.

After our last licks, Ian and Mark headed back north to their place and we strolled back to 19 HaDolfin Street where we proceeded to collapse into our respective dream states.  Welcome to Israel.