‘You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore’- Christopher Columbus
Like a welcome blessing from the Lord, we arrived to a beautiful sunset with rays spreading out across the silhouettes. We were relayed across Tel Aviv airport by various people sent by our tour company to the taxi and were driven to our hotel.
We awoke to a beautiful day and the Son was smiling over the city. White blocks of flats glistened in the sun. It reminded me of when we arrived in Mexico City and I was later told Tel Aviv is known as the White City. We were going to Jerusalem today via the Dead Sea.
Like two naughty children my bags followed me down the corridor to reception. The excitement of the previous day had resulted in a restless night at the City Hotel and as images of gardens of weeds were quickly followed by adornments and jewels, I realised I was jet lagged. After tossing and turning for what seemed hours, I took a paracetemol, a good cure for jetlag, I discovered on my previous travels.
Breakfast was a traditional Mediterranean feast of fish, cheese and eggs in various stages of dress. Some were presented au naturel, while others were mixed with an array of herbs and spices to titillate your tongue to wakefulness. There was water, coffee, milk and tea to drink and every countries favourite breakfast dish. We gulped down what we fancied in preparation for the busy day ahead.
Even in the early morning the heat wafted in droves from the street. Call girl cards were scattered like confetti across the pavement. As I caught my first glimpse of the Mediterranaen from the shore and my Piz Brun wafted on the breeze, the true realisation that I was finally on my dream holiday to the Holy Land hit me.