ISRAEL: PART II
Posted 3 January 2007on:
We left Jerusalem in a blaze of sunshine; we were so lucky with the weather and got a really sweet and charming taxi driver to take us on the one-and-a-half-hour ride down to the Dead Sea… yes it was rather a shock to the system that there is actually a sweet and charming taxi driver… well a shock to the system to find any Israeli who is sweet and charming. I love Israel, but the Israelis… oy!!!
Our hotel ~ the view from our room was spectacular… it is in fact any direction you look; either out onto the sea and the mountains beyond, or just more mountains the other way.
This wasn’t actually our pool; it’s the pool next door, but I just wanted to share the view.
Happy Families ~ just before we were going down to light the Shabbat candles I took these… they let me loose with the camera and I actually managed to capture them and not the wall or the ceiling. There wasn’t enough time to take a pic of me… shame… hehehehe
There really isn’t much to do at the Dead Sea other than rest and relax, enjoy the warmth, the pool, float in the Dead Sea and have scrumptious treatments.
Boaz loves the swimming pool so if he’s happy we’re happy.
I on the other hand chose a whole package of treatments, called Beautiful Goddess, or something like that. Manicure, pedicure, deep cleansing facial, vanilla and coconut body peel and then an ayurveda massage. Oh my word. I had the first three in one session. Nothing new for me to have the first two, but I tend only to indulge in facials on holiday… this one was beautiful at the time and my skin was radiant, till the next day and the first zit appeared and another one the following day. It was like being a teenager again… well worse, actually, because I was never a spotty adolescent. I know that inside I think like a 16 year old, but spots at my age… huh!
The next day the massage. Well I’d forgotten to stipulate a masseuse, rather than a masseur, and actually felt rather gutted when this little lady was waiting for me, but on reflection it was probably for the best. It was the best two hours I have spent in a long long time. The scrub was delicious; every inch of my skin expertly sloughed off . Then the massage. I usually have a Swedish, but the last one I had was rather heavy handed, and today I felt in need of a gentle touch. There was a bamboo thingy which I regret I passed on, and the other I really really fancied was the hot rocks, but apparently if you have HBP it’s not recommended… shame.
The ayurveda is hot oil drizzled over the whole body and scalp and a final few drops dripped onto the centre of the forehead, where the third eye is meant to be. The point of it is to work on the body, mind and soul. No paper knickers for this one… all over means all over. This woman had a magic touch, heavenly, and an hour later I was in a most wonderful state of mind . Since mother was still having some treatments I was able to waft to my room and float in a state of bliss in perfect silence and darkness for at least an hour.
The next day the children headed back home and naturally I shed a few tears. Boaz fell asleep after five minutes of repeating, “goodbye gwanma, goodbye gwanma”and apparently he got up the next morning searching the house looking for me… “where’s gwanma?”
The last two days was spent alone with mother and busloads of young Americans and old Russians, so we chilled out by the pool catching up on our books.
I always bring back ornaments made in Israel by Israeli artists… this time another hand painted glass hamsa (hand); I hang these on a wall by my front door and also two new shiny red ceramic pomegranates to add to my growing collection. (I couldn’t download the pictures this post, but I will, because they are beautiful). Well I was blown away to see they were designed by Goren Arts, Dani and Sharon Goren. Of course I googled them, and what a hoot… through the search vdo’s sister’s blog came up… seems she once had a post, Goren got mentioned and a Dani and a Sharon had commented…. how surreal is that? Anyway the name Goren is not an unusual one in Israel… shame our detective isn’t Jewish, then he really would be my perfect match and my dreams would be kosher… mmmmm!
We got home safe and sound and thank G-d for another uneventful, but rather turbulent flight home. As I was being hauled this time across the carousel, a cute and very very tall policeman wielding a very large weapon helped me lug the luggage off. Ah, the British cops aren’t all that bad.
Rachel collected us and guess who managed to lock her keys in the boot of her car… no not Rachel… moi. As I slipped the obligatory duty free bag into the boot, I was holding her keys and they must’ve accidently slid off my finger into said bag. Unknowingly, Rachel slammed the boot shut, but erm… she hadn’t yet unlocked the car doors.
We called a very very nice man, but he was from the RAC and within a few minutes he was there. It was fascinating to watch. He wedged something between the car and the driver’s door, pumped it up to cause a small gap then poked around with a long rod to release the boot switch. I think he didn’t mind the job, one because it was easy and two because a pretty sassy young woman was sweet-talking him… no not me plonkers… my mother and I stayed out of it, other than I handed Rachel a tenner to tip him. The least I could do since it was Boxing Day and it was my fault… doh! Ditzy Ann was home…
As always I come back in a little funk, not willing to contact or converse with anyone… initially to recover from my dear mother’s non-stop chatting… I do love her dearly and she is a remarkable lady, but somehow the love of minutiae gene skipped a generation, so it’s like grandmother like granddaughter.
For a particular friend reading this blog… when we chat for an hour or more, I don’t believe we are talking trifles, our conversations are far more meaningful…. aren’t they? The real real reason why I’m non-communicative… I miss the little ones so much and everyone is so sweet wanting to know about the babies, but I get all choked up and misty eyed.
So now we have moved on, the New Year is here, most of us are back at work slaving for a living and I must get on with finding my paperwork for my accountant as my tax return is due in on the last day of the month, send contracts to Israel (and money) for the caterer, the hotel, the band, the photographer and the video. For some reason my bank manager called and requested an appointment next week… hmmm. Probably just wants to see pictures of the babies… yeah! Rachel wants me to book her flights and accommodation today for the wedding and I haven’t even sorted that out for Jon yet, on top of which I’m trying to organise my next trip to Israel probably early March or middle of April and Lucy wants to come with me. Oh good old mum.
The holidays are well and truly over, back to the real world.
P.S. Grrrrr…… does this happen to you? Just standing in the bathroom minding my own business, putting on my make up when I hear this noise… it’s the windowcleaner… trouble is I’m butt naked. Thank goodness the window is frosted, but only slightly and the spotlights are on, hmmmm…. so methinks I shall quickly nip into bedroom; the blinds are up and I don’t have net curtains… shoot, there’s two of them. Yeah, ditzy Ann is back.