Kivi Goes to Israel: Introduction

Julie, our tour guide

The last time I was in Israel I was three years old, having moved there with my parents as a newborn. Of those three years I remember nothing. So when Temple Israel, the Reform synagogue in London, Ontario, decided to arrange a trip from May 6–20, 2007, I was curious and ready for adventure.

And an adventure it was. During those two weeks, we were constantly on a bus together, doing about five different things every day. We saw the old and the new, the religious and the secular, the North and the South, the comforting and the disturbing. It was an excellent survey, led by an excellent tour guide, Julie Bavetz of tour-guides.co.il and Yoram, whose last name and affiliation I didn't write down. He had nice cold bottled water for sale on the bus, which was at times a pleasant treat.

Yoram, our driver

There were 22 of us, mainly older people. After all, who but retirees have time for a two-week trip in the middle of May? I, at 36, was the youngest by a decade. Fortunately, the whole group was young at heart—especially including my roommate, Michael, the oldest person on the trip.

Michael is a photographer and an actor, a storyteller and a retired anaesthesiologist. He'd recently had a heart attack, and decided that it was now or never for getting to Israel: he wasn't going to get another chance. I'm pleased to report that he made it there and back, and I wouldn't be surprised to find that he may well have lots of future chances.

But on to the action. It all started on Sunday, May 6.