Culture Shock - Israel Day 1

After spending the better part of 5 months in Abu Dhabi (including the previous, consecutive, 48 days), you might expect a post about reverse culture shock as we got back to America. But that was not the direction of our travel. Instead, we made our way to Tel Aviv, Israel.

We had been invited to attend the wedding of a friend's daughter in Israel. Being so close (geographically, at least), we were excited by this opportunity to visit another country and experience another culture. I had visited Israel as a teenager, but Craig had never been before. This was another rare opportunity - to visit someplace I had more familiarity (barely) with than he did.

First, I will point out that it is not possible to fly directly from Abu Dhabi to Israel for reasons that I will not go into here. We had booked our travel on this trip using Turkish Airlines, so our flight to Tel Aviv included a layover in Istanbul. We took a red-eye flight out of Abu Dhabi and arrived in Tel Aviv some 9 hours later.

We had been warned that Israeli passport control may take some time, particularly given our most recent trip and Craig's various passport stamps and visas. I do not clearly recall entering Israel on my previous trip because I had taken a bit too much dramamine on my first international flight. But I do remember the Israeli security in the airport leaving on that trip - in large part because my parents had varied responses to the question of whether our party had been together* throughout our trip, which had rather dramatic effects on the officers until the misunderstanding could be cleared up.

So we were prepared to be honest, direct, and patient. In the event, this proved to be largely unnecessary. When asked about previous trips to Israel, Craig said that I had been before but he had not. When I gave the date of my previous trip, the woman laughed and told me that didn't count because Israel had changed so much since then. Craig was asked whether his multiple trips to the UAE were for business or pleasure, but when he responded "business" there were no additional questions. She did say, in passing,** that she was surprised he had not asked her not to stamp his passport (as this could cause problems returning to certain countries), but Craig simply laughed and said that he "knew that she would not" because we had researched this issue.

Indeed, she did not stamp our passports. We were given instead a small piece of paper to keep with our passports until we left. I'm not sure if the photo is from my passport or from that day, as I put my hair in braids for both my passport picture and travel. I took a picture of my passport and card together:

We collected our multitude of bags and set out into the airport. I did have one moment of relief that we were not questioned about our four day stay in Israel with our accompanying six checked bags, two carry on bags, and two backpacks. Despite the obvious answer that we had recently been living out of our suitcases, I think this might, at least, have raised a few more questions.

It was a bit of a struggle to find a taxi that could accommodate all our bags, but we soon set off for our hotel. Traffic was far more like that in Los Angeles than what we had grown accustomed to in the UAE. That is, until we came upon the reason for the delay - a motorcycle was pulled over, not entirely on the shoulder for reasons that will become obvious in this description, because the driver was attempting to move a full sized refrigerator on the back. To make this scenario even more absurd, the appliance was strapped to the back of the motorcycle sideways, with the result that the vehicle was wider than it was long. Unfortunately, I was unable to get a picture of this insanity as our driver maneuvered around it.

Not unexpectedly, our room was not ready when we arrived at the hotel so early in the morning. We checked our bags with the bellhop and made our way to the breakfast buffet. I tried to sample as much as possible:

And I got the first of many wonderful lattes (we were at this hotel for only four breakfasts, but the staff knew our coffee and water orders on the second day):

We were fighting, not jetlag, but simple exhaustion. We had flown through the night, with little opportunity to sleep. We did manage to go out for lunch before collapsing in our room and taking naps.

One of the stories Craig had heard from my previous trip was about the falafel we had in Israel. My parents had taken my little brother and I to visit my sister, who was living and working in Israel at the time. We had arrived in Haifa, gotten checked into our hotel, and someone suggested that we should get something to eat. My sister asked if we would like to try falafel. To our great surprise, my father responded enthusiastically to this suggestion.

For those who don't know, my father is not known as an adventurous eater. As I recall this trip, my mother made and packed sandwiches for lunch each day and my dad frequently picked up something at McDonald's on our way back to the hotel in place of whatever the rest of us had eaten for dinner.

We arrived at the falafel stand and my sister eagerly explained the options available and made suggestions as to what we might like. In my memory, she ordered me a fairly plain version without any vegetables because I was at that point in life where any greenery is objectionable. My father patiently examined the offerings before he complained, "but where are the waffles?"

So, of course, we had to try falafel in Israel. Craig has never enjoyed the fried balls of ground chickpeas that we've tried in the States. But he is rather more adventurous about food than my father, so he was quite excited to give it a try. He found a highly rated falafel stand within easy walking distance of our hotel.

He loved it! So much, that we went back again another day. Pictured above is Craig's, as I enjoyed mine without pickles or peppers. Straying only slightly from my earlier experience, I did have some of the cabbage on mine.

*On one day of our trip, my younger brother had an upset stomach that prompted him and my mother to stay in the hotel while my father and I continued the planned sightseeing with my sister. One of my parents interpreted "been together" quite literally and said we had not been together the entire time. The other parent interpreted "been together" as something more along the lines of "no one disappeared without us knowing where they went" and said that we had been together the entire trip. This inconsistency in answers made us very glad the my sister had sent us to the airport with plenty of time to clear security before our flight.

**Given my previous experience and everything I have read about Israeli security, I do not actually believe that anything is said or asked "in passing" or by chance. Instead, I believe that his answer did not warrant further investigation.

Bryce's Visit

In preparation for Bryce's visit, I picked up a few snacks at the grocery store. I wanted him to have a few things that would be easy to find if he woke up inexplicably hungry (something I frequently do when I travel internationally). I choose a variety of things ranging from what I knew he would like to what I thought he might have fun trying.

When he left, we saw that the date bar and the two Pringles cans had been left on the dresser. Now, the fact that he did not try the date bar was unsurprising, but both Craig and I were confused that he hadn't tried either flavor of Pringles. It wasn't until we were packing up the apartment a few days later that we discovered he had eaten both cans of Pringles, but had not completely removed the seal from either can. With the lids back in place, the cans appeared untouched but were empty.

I did not take many pictures during his visit for a combination of reasons. On his first full day, he fought jetlag and somehow induced me to watch three movies. I even watched the entirety of UP, which I had stopped on previous attempts due to tears. I still cried, but I have now actually seen the whole movie.

The only day he did any sightseeing, I was hiding in the dark with a migraine. Craig had a rare day free and took him to the Louvre and the Grand Mosque. The rest of his trip was taken up with visits to the park and the grand opening event, which I'll let Craig write about.

Grand Mosque

A trip to Abu Dhabi can hardly be complete without a tour of the Sheikh Zayed Mosque. I had planned to wear one of my abayas and lend the other to my friend. But I'm enough taller that it didn't work as planned. Instead, she wore a floor length, long-sleeved dress and borrowed a headscarf. Still, this wasn't enough to get through security at the mosque. She had to add one of the mosque's loaner abayas over her dress. Here we are, near the entrance:

We removed our shoes and went into the mosque. At one point, my friend asked me to take a photo of her. I suggested that she step further out into the sunlight, to provide better light for the picture. But as she stepped out, she discovered that the marble in the sunlight was significantly warmer than the cooled marble in the shade. She took a few quick steps and gave a little shriek of laughter before posing for the picture.

As I was handing her phone over to her, a security guard approached us and told us that "only peaceful pictures were allowed". I thought he was objecting to the little dance my friend had done when she discovered the floor was so hot, but his objection was to the still photograph of her standing with her arms extended from her sides.  He insisted that we delete the photo and stood watching as she removed it from her phone.  We were confused, but obedient to his request, so I cannot show you the objectionable photo.

We did later see a sign that expressly forbid the pose she had taken:

As we were leaving the mosque, we saw another larger sign with even more prohibitions. Ironically, the reason we had not seen this sign when we entered is because it was further into the sunlight and I had been avoiding the heat of the sun. I do still wonder if he would have noticed the picture if she had not been shocked by the heat underfoot. And, of course, I really do wonder what exactly the objection is to this pose.

Even with that bit of drama, I was able to take some "peaceful" pictures of her:

After our tour of the mosque, we returned the borrowed abaya and found a taxi. We made our way to a Harley Davidson shop, where we struggled to pick out t-shirts for our respective partners. It turns out that this is a very difficult decision to make for someone else, even when you know them well. Or perhaps because we know them so well - it might have been easier to pick something for someone who doesn't expect you to choose perfectly for them. 

We finished our day by going to the local mall (not the international mall across from our hotel, but a more varied one just a few blocks away) to shop for souvenirs. I will say that the experience made me glad that I gave up buying souvenirs sometime before I had two granddaughters and ten nieces and nephews.

Adventures in Camel Trekking

One of the things my friend most wanted to do during her visit was experience the desert. Riding a camel featured highly on her list as well. I knew that we would have to get out of the city to experience the desert. Although I am listed as a driver on our rental car, I have not yet attempted driving here. So I decided the best way to accomplish this desert visit was to take a tour.

Our hotel offered several options, which I reviewed beforehand. I decided that I might be up to the challenge of a morning desert adventure. There was a camel trekking tour that ran from 7:30-11:00 in the morning.

When we stopped to book this tour, the concierge tried to talk us into the longer tour that runs from 3:00-9:00 p.m. - this includes a camel ride, belly dancing, and dinner in the desert. This is their "most popular" tour, we were told. But we held firm to our morning only limitation and booked the camel trek.

I was relieved to wake up on Tuesday morning without a migraine and without terrible lingering side effects. I wore a long-sleeved, SPF shirt and a hat to protect myself from the sun. I also wore a lightweight pair of athletic pants that I typically wear when riding our tandem bicycle at home. I knew these would be cooler than jeans but more comfortable and more sun protection than my slacks.

We were picked up by an SUV at the hotel. We were the only people riding in the SUV, which was nice. I was a bit surprised to see that the vehicle had rollbars inside:

We drove about 45 minutes out of Abu Dhabi into the desert. When we left the highway, our driver asked if we wanted a "desert safari". We agreed and found ourselves slipping and sliding across the sand. It wasn't exactly "dune bashing" - a very common tour activity in the region - but it was probably as close as I want to come. I don't mind driving off-road myself, but being driven wildly that way isn't my idea of fun.

We arrived at the camp to see two camels saddled up and ready to go. We made a trek to the restrooms on foot. And that was quite a trek, despite the short distance. Open desert sand makes difficult walking. We could see the set-up for belly-dancing, dinner, and picture spots that made up the "more popular" afternoon/evening adventure. Our guide gave us bottles of water and walked us back to the camels.

There, another guide was waiting with the camels. Each saddle has a spot for two riders, but he directed each of us to the back seat of each camel. The camels were sitting on the sand for easier mounting. (Honestly, I'm not sure how you would mount if they weren't on the ground - the saddles have no stirrups and camels are tall!)

I made two mistakes in my preparation for this trip. First, I brought my insulated metal water bottle. Now, I love this bottle. I love having cold water to drink. And I'd filled it with ice and water before we left, and refilled it with water from the proffered bottles. But I did not have a way to attach this bottle to my bag. So I had to use one hand to hold the bottle the entire ride. And it's a black, metal bottle, which quickly got hot in the sun.

Second, my athletic pants proved to be very slippery. I was reminded of a time when Court and I, both wearing leggings, rode Luigi's Rollickin' Roadsters at California Adventure - we spent the entire ride slipping and sliding across the seat, crashing into one another, and laughing like mad. Let me just say that riding a camel with slippery pants and only one hand to hold on is not a laughing matter.

As a result, I spent the 35 minute ride clinging to the saddle handle and hoping that I would not slip off the side of the saddle. By contrast, my friend - with her water bottle clipped to her side and wearing cotton capris - found the ride very peaceful and relaxing.

I was glad to climb back into the air conditioned SUV (our driver had started the vehicle in time to cool it before our return) and ride back to Abu Dhabi. Back at the hotel, we had a little bit of a hassle because the tour guide did not take cards as we had been told, but we were able to run to the ATM to sort that out.

After showering and changing our clothes, we walked over to Al Wahda Mall for lunch. Then we returned to the apartment and spent the afternoon reading and recovering. When Craig returned from work, we went out for a lovely dinner at the Bentley Kitchen at The Galleria Mall.

High Tea at Emirates Palace

After our busy day and late night, we got a slow start on Monday. We walked over to the hotel pool - it's on the 25th floor of the connected building. But that pool got too much sun, so we returned to "my" pool at the apartments. It's on the 8th floor, so it's nearly all in the shade.

After "enjoying" the sauna-like air at the pool, we returned to the apartment to shower and get ready to go to tea. As we left the hotel, we stopped at the concierge to make arrangements for our "desert adventure". We had settled on the early morning camel ride, which we scheduled for the following day.

We took a taxi over to Emirates Palace. The High Tea was "enough for two to share" - but I think we could have used the help of a third person. It began with all this:

Here we are with the spread:

We made a significant dent in these offerings, unaware that the tea included a "chocolate fondant" for each of us. By "chocolate fondant", I mean a chocolate lava cake with edible gold flakes, berries, and a smear of yogurt...of course:

Don't be fooled by the appearance - that is a smear of sour, sour yogurt. Inexplicably. All I can think is that someone saw a picture and decided to replicate the plating with the ingredients at hand.

We were so full after tea that we barely managed to walk around Emirates Palace. While most of the shops sold incredibly expensive, high-end goods, we did find one shop that sold postcards. We decided it was too hot to walk on the Corniche or visit Heritage Village. Instead, we took a taxi back to Al Wahda Mall and picked up groceries to make dinner at home.

Unfortunately, that combination of heat and sugar (and who knows what else) proved the perfect recipe for a migraine. After I got dinner in the oven, I took my medication and crawled into bed, hoping that I had caught it early enough that I would recover in time for our 7:30 a.m. camel ride the following day.

Adventures as a Tour Guide

This week, I'm playing tour guide for a girlfriend visiting from Los Angeles. We've exchanged countless emails, discussing various sites to visit and activities to try. She's only here for five full days and we have lots of things we want to cram in. Of course, we'll also be battling her jet-lag, my heat intolerance, and Craig's shifting schedule.

By the time she boarded her flight, we had settled on an outline for our five days:

Sunday - Craig had to work in the morning, but he would finish around 11 a.m. and take us to Dubai. We got tickets to go up the Burj Khalifa and I had a list of options depending on our energy level, including visiting the gold souk, viewing the fountain show at the Dubai Mall, looking at Ski Dubai in another mall in Dubai, driving around Dubai, and having a traditional Arabic dinner.

Monday - I made reservations for the High Tea at the Emirates Palace. I thought we might visit Heritage Village or walk to Corniche, if we felt up to it in the heat. I suspected that this second day would be the worst for jet lag and didn't want to over-program it.

For the other three days, I had one main goal for each day, with a few extras: (1) Grand Mosque, Al Wahda Mall, and local mall, (2) Craig's "secret" project, and (3) a dessert tour, to be selected from the hotel's offerings, with an afternoon recovering.

Of course, with Craig's schedule being so...fluid...we had to alter our plans before she even arrived. We picked her up at the airport Saturday night. On Sunday, Craig went to work and we caught a cab later that morning to spend the day at his project, pushing our Dubai trip later in the week.

We had lunch at the Cheesecake Factory in Yas Mall. Our server grated parmesan onto my pasta, telling me to let her know when I had enough.

I think I got more than enough.

You know you're spoiled when...

In preparation for my monthly cravings, Craig and I stopped in the Godiva store at Yas Mall. I wanted chocolate covered caramels. Craig bought six of them for me, and the store put them in this somewhat oversized box:

I was a bit disappointed when I found that the consistency of the caramel was not what I expected. I was looking for a thick, chewy caramel like you find in a box of See's or Russell Stover chocolate. The Godiva chocolates were good, but they really weren't what I was craving.

I was having a bit of a struggle that day - homesick, shut-in by the heat, and generally cranky - and I made the mistake of complaining to Craig about the candy.

After dinner that evening, Craig told me he had a surprise for me. He had me hold out my hands and close my eyes. When I opened them, I found a bag of chocolate. He had me repeat this procedure with each item until I had this embarrassment of chocolate-caramel options:

I think it's safe to say that I am more than a little bit spoiled. :)

The Iceman Cometh (Craig's perspective)

[A guest post from Craig]

Our apartment, as you might expect, has a refrigerator and freezer, but making ice isn’t really an option with only one sad ice tray. Laura likes ice in her insulated water bottle. We like ice to chill our drinks and cocktails in the evening. So every day—if not multiple times a day—we have to call room service and request ice.

Most of the time, someone from room service shows up with 10-20 minutes with the ice.  Occasionally, it’s longer—or it doesn’t show up at all. This then requires an additional call to the service line to inquire as to the whereabouts of the ice. As you might imagine, it can be complicated.

Ice comes in one of two sizes of bucket at our hotel/executive apartment complex: an “individual” sized ice bucket really only good for putting a small amount of ice in two glasses, or the traditional champagne bottle ice bucket. I like the larger bucket—there’s more than enough ice for the evening. Laura likes the small, because she believes the ice is more hygienic as the exterior of a champagne or white wine bottle has not sidled into the bucket.

What I don’t understand is why we can’t get our own ice. There is no ice machine on our floor. No ice machine on any floor. It’s not a thing. I’d gladly take our (well cleaned) champagne bucket and go to any floor of the executive apartment building and fill it anytime I want with ice, rather than calling and then waiting (and sometimes waiting more) for it to show up.

It’s become a bit of a running joke with the lady on the service line. <<Phone ringing>> “Yes, Mr. Hanna? How can I be of assistance this evening.” Me: “Guess.” (Laughing) “Yes, I’ll send them with ice right away.”

Laura says the ice makes quite a journey. While visiting the pool on the roof of the hotel connected to our apartment she found a room labeled “Ice Making”. She believes the ice comes from there, travels down to the ground floor, is carried through the hotel lobby and through the connecting corridor to the lobby of the apartment tower and then up to our floor. Which is why the ice is often partially soupy upon arrival.

As if this post isn’t silly enough, talking about room service ice and all our “travails” with it, here’s even more: housekeeping do not remove the emptied ice buckets or ice serving utensils (which range from a large soup spoon to flat tongs to serrated tongs to a variety of other random utensils). We have to give the ice buckets to room service; otherwise they simply accumulate in our kitchen. I think at one point we had four ice buckets and a bevy of serving utensils stored up. So the ice delivery is often a dance of handing over the ice bucket from the service tray, asking them to wait, then balancing one or more other buckets and associated serving devices and handing them over.

Assorted ice paraphernalia.

Silly, really, when a simple ice machine would do.