I’ve been a slacker with the blog these days, but I needed a few days to recharge my entire body after an incredible 2 week Spring Break of non-stop planes, trains, automobiles, hiking, busing, cabbing, + running to catch trains/planes/automobiles/etc.

hitchiking.......(just kidding)

Before break, I somehow managed to write about 20 pages for 3 different essays in the span of 3 days, and so I was still in crazy mode when I got on the plane to Israel. So crazy, that when I made my connection flight in Riga…I looked out the window to see snow…and realized I had no idea what country I was in. Riga, yes, but Riga…where? I listened to the announcements on the plane, trying to decipher the language, but it just sounded like the attendant had milk bubbles caught in his throat as he spoke. Okay, so Eastish Europe.

Bording the mini plane for Riga! 2 weeks of clothes in 1 bag...incredible feat for me

I finally figured out Riga is in Latvia. Cool. I’ve been to Latvia. I boarded my next plane and at midnight I arrived in Tel Aviv to meet up with friends. Dinner? Pita + hummus. Ahhhhhh Israel

Israel sunset over Tel Aviv Beach

Tel Aviv Beach

Only having a few days until Passover, I required that the first real meal be shwarma with laffa. Day 1, we trekked through Tel Aviv to find not just any shwarma, but the best shwarma according to online reports (I would have been happy with any shwarma, but co-eaters would not settle for less than the best). I made sure all cameras were left at home for this adventure. 15 napkins and 1 lamb later, I could not have been happier. Sorry, little Bo Peep. I have basically been a vegetarian this whole semester, not because I want to, but there is just no kosher meat in Denmark. Therefore, for most of my Israel voyage, I went a little meat crazy. That sounds gross. Enough of the meat…moo-ving on.

Shabbat dinner in Tel Aviv- so cute!

The next day, we were supposed to head for Haifa, but half of our travel group had food poisoning or some other questionable sickness. We decided to go a day early to the Israeli family who was hosting us for Seder, who made sure sickly folks were overly mothered, and before long, a quick recovery was in effect.Thank you, Jewish mothers, for all knowing exactly what to do.

SEDER!

The entire seder was in Hebrew. Very fast paced. Wine inspired “Who knows 1? I know 1!” and “Hagadya” at the end. At one point, a giant piece of foiled meat was passed around the table (of 20 guests) and we were all encouraged to swing it around our heads a few times and say a blessing. I’m talking at least a foot long. Very interesting evening, and (I know I said I wouldn’t talk about it anymore, but…) SO MUCH DELICIOUS MEAT!

After sleeping off a meat high, my body regained its natural salt balance, and we were able to continue on with activities as planned.

So now that Passover began, no more bread. I therefore brought my big purse everywhere, so that it could fit this:

At the train station- matzah with plum/cinnamon jelly! passover delicacy

Matzah hotdog....gross...but had to try it for the experience

chewing...debating...

questionable validity of thumbs up

Next stop: Rosh Hanikra!

Rosh Hanikra is a stunning area of northern Israel, adjacent to Lebanon (we stood at the fence and looked across the border). It’s referred to as “a love relationship between the land and the sea”, which is both corny and accurate.

The grottoes resulted from an ongoing geological process over thousands of years. It all began with a series of underground shocks that ripped gapes into the bedrock. Rainwater penetrated the gaping rifts, dissolving them and forming within tunnels and sea caves (grottoes) that relentlessly proceeded to expand because of the intensity of the waves slamming the rock during a storm.

grotto

Before we took the cable car down into the grottoes, we decided to go for a little hike down to the beach area, you know, try and work off our matzah intake. Going down the steep decline, we followed a sort-of-there dirt/pebble path through tall grass and spikey shrubbery until we got to a fork. We could climb down a large boulder path, or spend an extra 15 minutes walking around the boulders. I, of course, wanted to take the boulder path. But my travel buddy Alex didn’t seem too keen. At least, that’s what I thought. After a few minutes back and forth should we, shouldn’t we, I decided to go for it and Alex followed. Alex’s side of the story, however, is that he thought I didn’t want to go down the boulder trail, and therefore didn’t want to pressure me. To ME, it seemed like he was the one who didn’t want to risk it. I made the mistake of admitting this and thus questioning his masculinity, which caught up with me later. After the beach, it was time to head back up the mountain, and as a joke I pointed to one of the steepest parts of the mountain, one with thorny bushes, extremely tall grass, and no real path at all, and said, “Hey! That looks like the easiest way up!” Again…JOKE! Alex, still secretly offended by the fact that I thought he wasn’t man enough to go down a boulder path, can’t let that happen again. “Yeah! Let’s do it!” Before I know it, he is heading up the mountain on the worst chosen point ever. And so I follow. Bad move, Jess.

Twenty minutes later, I felt like the hyenas in The Lion King after having followed Simba through a thorn patch near the elephant graveyard. I learned my lesson…I think. Or was I even the one in need of a lesson?

ANYWAYS…

We took the cable car down to the grottos, and as we stood in the cool caves, gazing at the frothy turquoise water, hearing it crash against the rocks, feeling its mist on our faces, the moment was suddenly broken by a loud, obnoxious: “HONK! HONK!!!!!!!!” We turned around and see the smiling face of a middle aged Israeli man. “HONK! HONK!” he yelled again. “Ehhhhhhh…can you…ehh….move…ehhh…so we can take picture? You are in way.”

Seriously? Honk honk? He felt to need to imitate a car horn to convey his point? Israelis are certainly a breed of their own.

Going Back into Exile

Ok, here’s where my story gets a little interesting. So it’s Passover, the holiday where we celebrate being freed from slavery in Egypt and when our ancestors began their 40 year trek through the desert to Israel.

Now reverse that…

A few days into Passover, we decide to head South to a tourist spot popular among Israelis, although it is not in Israel: Sinai, Egypt. Some of you may think this is blasphemous, considering it was Passover, and are asking why on earth would I want to return to Egypt?!?! Well…I was asking myself that too. But after group discussion, I decided 1) a re-creation of the holiday would make it even more meaningful…what better way to understand the feelings of my ancestors? 2) The very fact that I CAN go into Egypt today, and then return at my will, is empowering and showcases true freedom. At least that’s what I told myself as we sped through the Egyptian mountains at 3 in the morning.

One of my co-Passover-reinactors suggested we shouldn’t outwardly tell people we are Jewish, but just act like American tourists. He said this whilst munching on Matzah…easy giveaway. Turns out, that wasn’t the best idea in our case. The guy in charge of the Bedouin beach village we stayed at, Yasser, was in command of 3-5 Bedouin workers who run the place, clean, cook, and cater to his guests needs. Yasser, who loved Russians and is cool with Israelis, informed us as he served us morning coffee, “I hate America.”

Oh. Great. Why’s that Yasser?

“In 1956, you SCREWED US OVER WITH THE SUEZ CANAL!”

Unsure of whether he would take his anger out of me for something that happened 32 years before I came into this world, I held off on drinking the coffee for a while. Yasser went on for 10 more minutes of uninterrupted venting about American politics and the 1956 Egypt War. I realized I hadn’t done my research. Whoooops. After he stepped down from his soapbox, his eyes softened, he spread out his arms in a peaceful gesture, and said, “But! Now that that’s out in the air, all that’s left is love.” He tapped his heart. “You are my guests! What can I do? More coffee?” Wow. Certainly no Pharoah, but I’ll admit I was a little intimidated.

The first night, we all slept outside since there weren’t any “chooshahs” (huts) available. I woke up with 17 mosquito bites on my face. SEVENTEEN! Not ordinary bites…Egyptian mosquitos. Reminiscent of…dare I say…BOILS! At least I skipped plagues 1 through 5. Other than that, Sinai was magnificent. Stunning scenery- tan, shadowy mountains behind us, the Red Sea, calm and glassy, and nothing to do but relax in the sun, read, eat matzah, and try to avoid Yasser.

sunrise in Sinai

view from one of the open air huts

Two days later, we finalized the Exodus reenactment and made our way back to Eilat and eventually Tel Aviv. I was very relieved to cross the border, and could imagine how the Jews felt thousands of years ago, although I doubt there was a customs/passport check back then.

After another few days of hanging out in and around Tel Aviv, it was time to go

Thankfully, the week ahead of me was PACKED so I didn’t have much time to think about how much I missed Israel/ friends in Israel. It was a really hectic morning of trying to get to Ben Gurion Airport: bus was late, the online info was wrong about which terminal to go to, and I ended up having to grab a cab from one terminal to the next, and didn’t have any shekels left, so I paid him in half shekel, half Danish kroner, which he was not happy about, but I was late, so I made a run for it and thanked him a thousand times. I boarded a plane to Italy to meet up with Holly (Denmark roommate).

Italy

flying into Italy

Florence!

I flew in to Rome and as the sun was setting over the beautiful skyline, I caught a train to Florence. I wish I could have stayed longer in Rome than 1 hour, but hopefully one day I can come back and do it the proper way. I crashed at a Vanderbilt friend’s place who is studying in Florence for the semester. The next morning, Holly and I met up, and we started our day with some coffee and a hike. We were guided by an Italy tour book that was a little quirky. It felt as though it was written by a 17th century poet.

(“As you wind your way up the steep ascension towards Galileo’s house, open your ears and you’ll hear the heart song of tweeting birds leading you towards the countryside lookout…Peek through a peephole on the mossy stone and your eyes will be pleasured with a view of the whole city…hug the walls as you head East, making your way back toward civilization and you’ll find yourself at Michaelangelo’s David statue”).

galileo's casa

It was beautiful, and yes, the birds did indeed chirp. But the road was QUITE steep and there wasn’t really anyone else around, so we were forced to use self timer to take a pic of us in front of Galileo’s house. See epic fail below:

you're going to have to trust us on this one...it's his house.

the view as we "hugged the walls" and winded our way around the mountains

toooo manyyyy stairsss to get to David statue

see how HUUUGE the Duomo is! view from the top of the hike

David (and me) contemplating the battle he's about to have with Goliath

Michelangelo’s David is a masterpiece of Renaissance sculpture created from 1501 to 1504. The 5.17 meter (17 ft)^[1] marble statue portrays the Biblical hero David at a moment of contemplation. The most widely accepted interpretation is that the statue represents David immediately before his battle with Goliath, unlike previous depictions which portray the hero after his victory.^[2] The statue came to symbolize the defense of civil liberties embodied in the Florentine Republic, an independent city state threatened on all sides by more powerful rival states and by the hegemony of the Medici family.

just happy to be out and about...probably daydreaming about gelato

Once we had enough of David, we winded back around to the Boboli Gardens.

The Boboli Gardens, in Italian Giardino di Boboli, form a famous park in Florence, Italy, that is home to a distinguished collection of sculptures dating from the sixteenth through the eighteenth centuries, with some Roman antiquities.

It was a beautifully sunny day, and we had a fun time trying to interpret the statue whose titles confused us even more than the statues themselves. For example, the statue below was entitled “The Secret of the Skies.”

Holly still unsure of what the secret is

Adam and Eve

purrrty

I have an obsession with statue impressions

we climbed to the top of the park, and there was a labyrinth of shrubberies: unexpected and lovel

one of my favorite views

As our visit through the gardens winded down, we thought we had seen it all. And then we saw this:

The Nano Morgante by Valerio Cioli (1529–99), a naked fat dwarf riding a tortoise, supposedly an allegory of laziness and wisdom.

The rest of the day and the following day, we explored more of the inner city: the Ponte Vecchio bridge, the Duomo, churches, what used to be the Jewish Quarters, museums. Oh…and gelato.

cool pizza shop

one of the bridges that crosses the canal

Duomo- church side (Florence Cathedral)

breakfast, lunch, and dinner?

more Duomo

We went to the Bargello Museum, which housed tons of statues. Here are some of my faves:

this statue was called "Jason"....weird? a little.

this was taken from a fountain...hahah

more adam and eve...and posing

At one point in our adventures, we were walking down a street, no idea where we were…and then…out of nowhere…as though placed there by the Lord Himself…was…a…..KOSHER STORE! In Florence!

kosher!

While peering into the store, a Jewish older man walks up and asks us if we are looking for somewhere kosher to eat for Shabbat. I tell him, no thank you we are leaving Florence in a few hours, but he still demands that we let him treat us to coffee and cake at his family friend’s place. One hour and one HUMONGOUS coffee later, Holly and I had hardly gotten a word in, but we now know infinitely more about the Jewish-Italian history dating back to WWII era. He asked where our ancestors were from, and so I told him Poland and Lithuania. The man was still under the pretense that Holly was Jewish (she’s not), and so he was a little baffled when she replied, “French Canada.” She left out the “Catholic Irish” part, too, but before he could ask anything else, we had to run to catch our train to La Spezia. Thank you, kind man, for the coffee and cake! !

coffee the size of my face

And we’re off…Cinque Terre

“The Five Towns”

What we did know: Cinque Terre is a stunning area of Italy, on the coast, where people come to hike through five different towns that are embedded into the cliffs that overlook the Meditteranean Sea.

What we didn’t know: People book their hostels months in advance.

The day before we left Florence, and we were desperately searching for a hostel but everyyyyything was booked. We finally found this random hotel and it looked sort of close on a map to where we wanted to hike, so we just booked it in a state of desperation. Turns out that a topographical map would have been a lot more helpful, considering the map we were looking at showed no elevation…a key factor when you hotel is ON THE TOP OF A GIANT MOUNTAIN.

Didn’t know that. Now we do. When we arrived at the bus station, there were no buses to be found, so we had to get a cab but the address from the website was incorrect and eventually the cab driver had to wind his way around an entire mountain to get us to where we needed to be.

Crazy hotel with weird art deco and foam triangle shapes on the wall and fishtanks, etc etc.

Albergo Serena

At first, when we tried saying the name of the hotel in Italian to our non English speaking cab driver, I thought he was familiar with it because when I started to say “Albergo…” he nodded his head. It took me quite a while to figure out that “Albergo” just means “hotel” in Italian. I’m dumb.

Anyways, the next day we tried to catch the bus down the mountain. FAIL. It drove right by us. We were on the wrong side.

Here’s where we were:

notice my cool-Mom-cargo-hiking-shorts-complete-with-12-pockets

Here’s where we wanted to be:

Eventually the hotel manager took pity on us and drove us to the next closest bus stop. We were on our way!! Bus to the train station…train to Cinque Terre…..except…then the train was postponed. For 3ish hours. ARGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3 hours later: FINALLY IN CINQUE TERRE!!!! Time to start hiking!!

It was DEFINITELY worth the trouble to find our way to Cinque Terre. The views were just stunning, the weather was sunny and cloudless, and Holly is a great hiking buddy because she is super athletic and makes me keep up with her. Thanksssss Holly. (The girl also nearly killed me on the final 30 minute straight uphill bit of the hike…I have never heard myself wheeze so much like an old man in my life…gatta hit the gym, Morse! and…now I’m talking to myself through my own blog. At least it’s only a parenthetical.)

Six hours of hiking later, we ruuuuuuun to the train because it’s the last one leaving that will get us to our hotel via public transportation, we make it on just as the doors are closing and high five! And then the train starts going in the opposite direction it should. FAIL.

OHHHHH WELL. So we had to get another cab to our hotel after a yummy Italian pesto pasta dinner. It was still worth it.

And we were off again!

Venice

Talk about confusing maps. We took one look at the map and decided it was pointless to use it. Instead, we took a picture using a digital camera OF a map, and used it when we really needed to, but in general we just followed arrows that pointed in the direction of a bridge. There were only 3 bridges in Venice that crossed the canals, so you head towards one and cross over and then aimlessly wander in and out until you find some cool building you want to check out.

The best part for me was just exploring. When your attitude is that you don’t mind getting lost, then it’s a lot more fun and there’s no anxiety. We stayed in a youth hostel and met some pretty cool people our age who we had dinner with in the hostel (it felt a little like an orphanage), and then went out with later.

Here are some Venice pics and then I am going to bed because this blog takes forever to upload pictures and it is past 2 am and I am veryyyyyyyyyyyy tired.

picture of a map we used.

Gandala!

We didn’t actually end up going on a gandala ride (the boats), because it was super expensive and the gandala driver guys don’t even really sing. It was so touristy and the striped, hat bearing men were just a little too sleazy for my taste. (“Oh, pretty ladies, come onto my gondola, special price, special price.”) Ew. Andddd No.

we went to Murano, the glass blowing island, and I couldn't decide which ring to get

Holly blowing glass

glass sculpture

Best meal in Italy was at this Italian-Israeli kosher restaurant. Falafel appetizer, house wine, and meat lasagna with tahini and eggplant instead of noodles. YUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM