I arrived at Saint George's twenty-six hours after I entered the Quad-cities Airport, but I arrived in very good shape, this time, although really exhausted. I still can't manage to sleep on a plane, though I try, valiently. I think I might have managed and hour and a half of sleep in fifteen minute intervals. These little fits of sleep are never planned, and I almost missed a breakfast because of one. Thank God for the lovely German couple sitting with me, who took my breakfast tray to hold for my awakening. I still have a lot of room to grow before I claim the title of world traveller. But, I'm getting so much better.
Aside from the actual 13 hours on the plane, there was a lot of lay-over time. I told Bill (travel agent extraordinar) that a long, non-stop flight nearly destryed me last trip. Could he look for something that would alow me walking-around time along the way. My flight on Lufthansa stopped in Frankfurt, Germany, with a three hour delay to change planes (and walk around). Well! Little did i know that walking around in Franfurt is not a choice. It is a necessity! The tranfer from the main terminal to the obscure concourse from which all flights to Israel leave is a journey in itself. It takes one completely out of the secure area, through what seems like miles of twisting corridors and stairways which seem to have no direction or purpose. Eventually you board a monorail train to concourse C. Then one walks for more miles, up and down stairs, through long hallways where there are many people sleeping on cots. (Really!) When one is about to give up hope, there is a sign for gate C13, where the secuity routine has to be completed all over again before admittance. The Tel Aviv gate (C13, I never forget it) is very comfortable, and I was glad that I still had an hour to recouperate and drink my $6.00 bottle of water. I always expect a long walk at O'Hare. In Frankfurt it took me by surprise. But I did get my walking-around time as requested. Thank you, Bill!
My arrival at Tel Aviv went as expected until I went to the ATM for an initial infusion of shekels and the machine kept trying to deal with me in Russian, unsuccessfully, I might add. After several tries, I persuaded it that we could progress only in English. My sherut (public taxi service) ride was unthreatening and uneventful. Perhaps it was because it was daylight or becaued it was not completely new. Riding from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem made me ask myself, once again, why anyone would fight, and for centuries, over this rock-strewn desert of scrub trees and sand. But fight they do and I'm afraid that fight they will, until no one is left to fight. What a tragedy! I had a litte confrontation with the sherut driver who tried to drop me off at the Albright Institute instead of Saint George's. I prevailed! The main security guard and the cook (more about him later) greeted me like an old friend, and I've manage to catch-up on some news of other staffers who are no longer here. It's good to be back.
I'm going to try to attach three pictures: The pile of books I attemped to get read before I came (I still have two to go--I finished one on the plane; the friendly sherut stand at the Tel Aviv Airport; and the welcoming gates of Saint Georges's College in the Cathedral Close. I hope I have better luck than I did with Toby!
Vale till next time!
G+
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