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magidThe plan: parents stay with me the night before, get up before dawn Thursday, go to Logan, fly to Israel with a layover in Heathrow, land Friday morning, stay up until Shabbat evening, fall down go boom.
The parents did stay with me the night before. I set the oven timer for 4:45 am, and we were up and out in a reasonable amount of time. We drove to one of those longer-term parking places that give shuttle rides to Logan, and got to the British Airways check-in desk maybe an hour and a half before the flight.
This was when my dad realized he didn't have his passport. Shirt pocket? Nope. Jacket pockets? Nope? Trouser pockets? Nope. Mom had asked in the car whether we all had passports, and Dad had said yes, so I suggested they go back to the parking place to get it. I sat with the carry-ons while they did that.
Except that it wasn't there; now the thought was that it had been left on my mantlepiece. And there wasn't time for them to retrieve it before the flight was due to leave. I felt horrible; they might've gone to the apartment first instead had I not said that Dad had said he had it in the car. The counter-guy, trying to be helpful, said it was 'just one day' of delay, except that that would mean likely traveling on Shabbat (not that he'd know that), so I ended up taking the orginal flights alone, with the parents hopefully soon to follow.
It was disconcerting, to say the least. I travel alone frequently, but then i've made the arrangements and know all the details. Mom had done all of this, so I wasn't familiar with any of it, figuring I didn't have to burden my brain with useless details when I'd be tagging along with them. Even as I was feeling strangely bereft, I was making fun of myself for it: I can get on a plane alone, and get myself from Ben Gurion to the rental apartment in Jerusalem as well.
British Air only allows one carry-on (not one plus a briefcase), so I had to check the wheelie bag. This was a plus, since I'd be schlepping whatever I didn't check around Heathrow.
The flight to England was fine, with plenty of space, the kosher meal arrived (though why anyone would think chicken with some vegetables and rice was 'brunch' is beyond me), I got to watch a movie (Night in the Museum is very nicely done, btw), all good.
I had a three-hour layover in Terminal 4, which I explored thoroughly before buying booze (a request for someone in Israel) and finding a quiet place to wait until the gate was announced (that doesn't happen until an hour before the flight).
The second flight wasn't quite as nice: it was completely packed, for one thing, and there wasn't a meal for me (but I got one anyway, because some other kosher person slept through the meal), and I hadn't slept since the night before, when I had gotten too little sleep (I think it ended up being about 4 hours). I closed my eyes during the overnight flight, but couldn't sleep all crunched up like that. On the plus side: Happy Feet.
We were a little early to Ben Gurion airport, and I was surprised to find that it was a completely new facility: no one sent me the memo! Very shiny, but a fair bit of walking. I was also surprised to see how many people there were having breakfast and such at that hour (5:30 am), not looking dazed or sleep deprived.
Passport control was quick ("Why are you here?" "A wedding." "For who?" "A relative." "OK."), I had to wait a bit for my bag (but it arrived), and I walked out through the 'nothing to declare' doors unhindered.
How to get to Jerusalem was the next question. I've always taken a sherut (shared taxi), but there are buses, and now there's a train (also new). I was stupid with lack of sleep, and listened to a guy I'd been talking to on the second flight, who said to take the train.
This was not the right choice for efficiency. A sherut would've taken me where I was staying without further thinking, which would've been smarter. But I wasn't thinking well, and there was the novelty of the train, so I bought a train ticket (19 shekels from Ben Gurion to Jerusalem).
I wen through the gate (a bit like the Tube gates in how the cards work, but the rest is regular turnstile), and down to the platform, where I found a huge train schedule. I was so dopey by this time that I didn't realize it was erev Shabbat (different schedule). There wasn't a map, though, so it didn't dawn on me that there were multiple lines being shown on the schedule. Thank goodness someone was able to help me (the station master was there, but he had tefillin and tallit on, and looked rather non-interruptable).
What I had to do: take the next train three stations in the wrong direction so I could switch lines. Oy. So I did, and there was a wait in the middle, as well. Still, it was an adventure.
Interestingly, there were signs that one couldn't bring a bike on the train (some are two-level trains, some just one), but someone did on the Jerusalem train, in a huge bag. He told me it was fine to do if the bike was bagged. *boggle*
I got on the right train, and settled back to enjoy the ride. There weren't many people on the train, and I could see out both sides pretty easily. We passed through bits of Tel Aviv, then turned east through more agricultural areas, which had orange and lemon and olive groves, also fields of some kinds of crops.
As we got closer to Jerusalem, the train started to climb more and follow a twistier path. The track paralleled a brook much of the way as the valley got deeper and deeper. At some point it turned into a wadi, and still the hills got higher and higher. It was gorgeous, the hills always looking like they were sliding because of the levels being skew, yellow flowers now interspersed with pink cyclamen, then red poppies. There were cacti with sabra fruits on them, also ruins of old stone buildings in the hills. I was too tired to figure out where the camera had gotten too, alas.
I got to the train station, and got a cab to Beit Shmuel. I was totally turned around, because I knew where the old train station was, not the new one. And there's been a lot of construction, including the bypass roads. I finally got my bearings most of the way there, having to mentally rotate the city (I'd expected to go by the end of the highway by Kiryat Moshe, and that didn't happen at all).
The cabbie dropped me off at Beit Shmuel. I went in, and the woman at the front desk called someone to take me to the rented apartment. He took one bag, and I followed him through a garden, to an underground parking garage, out the other side, up a driveway, past a security gate for cars, around a corner, and in the side entrance of another building. We took the elevator to the second floor (from floor 0; there were also buttons for -1 and -2!), and my aunt and uncle let me into the apartment, a little after 9 am Friday. Whew.
More about the rest of Friday in another post.
PS. The woman next to me is checking her friends page :-).
The parents did stay with me the night before. I set the oven timer for 4:45 am, and we were up and out in a reasonable amount of time. We drove to one of those longer-term parking places that give shuttle rides to Logan, and got to the British Airways check-in desk maybe an hour and a half before the flight.
This was when my dad realized he didn't have his passport. Shirt pocket? Nope. Jacket pockets? Nope? Trouser pockets? Nope. Mom had asked in the car whether we all had passports, and Dad had said yes, so I suggested they go back to the parking place to get it. I sat with the carry-ons while they did that.
Except that it wasn't there; now the thought was that it had been left on my mantlepiece. And there wasn't time for them to retrieve it before the flight was due to leave. I felt horrible; they might've gone to the apartment first instead had I not said that Dad had said he had it in the car. The counter-guy, trying to be helpful, said it was 'just one day' of delay, except that that would mean likely traveling on Shabbat (not that he'd know that), so I ended up taking the orginal flights alone, with the parents hopefully soon to follow.
It was disconcerting, to say the least. I travel alone frequently, but then i've made the arrangements and know all the details. Mom had done all of this, so I wasn't familiar with any of it, figuring I didn't have to burden my brain with useless details when I'd be tagging along with them. Even as I was feeling strangely bereft, I was making fun of myself for it: I can get on a plane alone, and get myself from Ben Gurion to the rental apartment in Jerusalem as well.
British Air only allows one carry-on (not one plus a briefcase), so I had to check the wheelie bag. This was a plus, since I'd be schlepping whatever I didn't check around Heathrow.
The flight to England was fine, with plenty of space, the kosher meal arrived (though why anyone would think chicken with some vegetables and rice was 'brunch' is beyond me), I got to watch a movie (Night in the Museum is very nicely done, btw), all good.
I had a three-hour layover in Terminal 4, which I explored thoroughly before buying booze (a request for someone in Israel) and finding a quiet place to wait until the gate was announced (that doesn't happen until an hour before the flight).
The second flight wasn't quite as nice: it was completely packed, for one thing, and there wasn't a meal for me (but I got one anyway, because some other kosher person slept through the meal), and I hadn't slept since the night before, when I had gotten too little sleep (I think it ended up being about 4 hours). I closed my eyes during the overnight flight, but couldn't sleep all crunched up like that. On the plus side: Happy Feet.
We were a little early to Ben Gurion airport, and I was surprised to find that it was a completely new facility: no one sent me the memo! Very shiny, but a fair bit of walking. I was also surprised to see how many people there were having breakfast and such at that hour (5:30 am), not looking dazed or sleep deprived.
Passport control was quick ("Why are you here?" "A wedding." "For who?" "A relative." "OK."), I had to wait a bit for my bag (but it arrived), and I walked out through the 'nothing to declare' doors unhindered.
How to get to Jerusalem was the next question. I've always taken a sherut (shared taxi), but there are buses, and now there's a train (also new). I was stupid with lack of sleep, and listened to a guy I'd been talking to on the second flight, who said to take the train.
This was not the right choice for efficiency. A sherut would've taken me where I was staying without further thinking, which would've been smarter. But I wasn't thinking well, and there was the novelty of the train, so I bought a train ticket (19 shekels from Ben Gurion to Jerusalem).
I wen through the gate (a bit like the Tube gates in how the cards work, but the rest is regular turnstile), and down to the platform, where I found a huge train schedule. I was so dopey by this time that I didn't realize it was erev Shabbat (different schedule). There wasn't a map, though, so it didn't dawn on me that there were multiple lines being shown on the schedule. Thank goodness someone was able to help me (the station master was there, but he had tefillin and tallit on, and looked rather non-interruptable).
What I had to do: take the next train three stations in the wrong direction so I could switch lines. Oy. So I did, and there was a wait in the middle, as well. Still, it was an adventure.
Interestingly, there were signs that one couldn't bring a bike on the train (some are two-level trains, some just one), but someone did on the Jerusalem train, in a huge bag. He told me it was fine to do if the bike was bagged. *boggle*
I got on the right train, and settled back to enjoy the ride. There weren't many people on the train, and I could see out both sides pretty easily. We passed through bits of Tel Aviv, then turned east through more agricultural areas, which had orange and lemon and olive groves, also fields of some kinds of crops.
As we got closer to Jerusalem, the train started to climb more and follow a twistier path. The track paralleled a brook much of the way as the valley got deeper and deeper. At some point it turned into a wadi, and still the hills got higher and higher. It was gorgeous, the hills always looking like they were sliding because of the levels being skew, yellow flowers now interspersed with pink cyclamen, then red poppies. There were cacti with sabra fruits on them, also ruins of old stone buildings in the hills. I was too tired to figure out where the camera had gotten too, alas.
I got to the train station, and got a cab to Beit Shmuel. I was totally turned around, because I knew where the old train station was, not the new one. And there's been a lot of construction, including the bypass roads. I finally got my bearings most of the way there, having to mentally rotate the city (I'd expected to go by the end of the highway by Kiryat Moshe, and that didn't happen at all).
The cabbie dropped me off at Beit Shmuel. I went in, and the woman at the front desk called someone to take me to the rented apartment. He took one bag, and I followed him through a garden, to an underground parking garage, out the other side, up a driveway, past a security gate for cars, around a corner, and in the side entrance of another building. We took the elevator to the second floor (from floor 0; there were also buttons for -1 and -2!), and my aunt and uncle let me into the apartment, a little after 9 am Friday. Whew.
More about the rest of Friday in another post.
PS. The woman next to me is checking her friends page :-).
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 03:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 06:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 03:27 pm (UTC)In other news, why would someone in Israel want you to get drunk in Heathrow? :)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 03:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 06:55 am (UTC)(I'm pondering whether it makes sense to get booze on the way back or not. I suspect not, for me, anyway.)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 06:52 am (UTC)I don't think anyone in Israel wants me drunk at all, if it cuts into their alcohol... :-)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 03:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 06:58 am (UTC)I still don't get the whole bikes in bags part; what harm would a bike do on the train? And isn't it good to encourage bike use? (Well, maybe not; the roads can be dicey, and between municipalities sometimes dangerous...) The bag seemed a bit designed for this, so it was heavier-duty plastic than a plain bag. And my impression was that it only had to be in the bag from going onto the platform, in the train, and getting out again, so not egregious time actually carrying it. Still, more a nuisance than anything else.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 06:59 am (UTC)Even so, though part of me wishes I took the efficient route, it was not only scenic, but a chance to decompress a little before starting a rather hectic day of shopping for Shabbat.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 07:01 am (UTC)I managed to find second (and third!) winds through it, and by the end wondered if this was a bit like what the parent of a newborn goes through, without the crying and the diapers...
no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 04:24 pm (UTC)Glad you made it. My grandparents had a similar passport issue many years ago, but some how they were able to get my Dad to drive it to them just in time. Hope your parents didn't stress too much.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 07:04 am (UTC)Thanks. I think my parents rolled with it, modulo exhaustion and one or two other health issues... (If I'd had a roommate who could've checked then brought it... I would've had a rather different journey.)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-15 11:29 pm (UTC)that makes sense; isn't the service area much closer to that of LIRR than, say, Die Bahn?
no subject
Date: 2007-03-16 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 04:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 07:06 am (UTC)I got used to having my passport with me most of the time when I was in Israel, and kept the habit, so I tend to know where it is.
(And yeah, understandable, but other things were forgotten, too...)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 07:08 am (UTC)I thought of you this Shabbat: I went to Shira Hadasha for davening. (About which more soon, though I'm not sure whether there will be time for another post before I leave.)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 04:46 pm (UTC)I am constantly impressed by your ability to keep track of all the details you notice and tell of them so beautifully later on.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-15 01:22 am (UTC)I think that, like with dreams, it's easier to remember details if one goes over them in the mind, or makes notes soon afterward (which I did, though I'm sure there are things I meant to note and forgot).