Kayak Yok

This evening ended on a high note: I walked with my dad from the support clinic to the main building, where they had a lecture in the "C Major Hall" (everything here is music themed. The clinic is "Harmony" Section for example), "The Middle East in the Modern Era". My mum was fiercely against my taking dad there, for no rational reason (clinic staff as well as "normal" staff were fine with it). Just against it, pouting and hissing, lobbying friends and anyone who'd listen to what she has to put up with. But I just told dad to raise himself from his chair, position his walker, release the brakes, and off we went. Mum refused to join him for the lecture, and stayed behind in his room with another resident in the main part of the building, Carmella, who used to live right across the street from us in the old house. The lecture turned out to be fascinating, centering on the rise and fall of the Ottoman Empire ("the Ossman Empire, our youngish lecturer said emphatically - Ottoman is a non-existent term, made up by the Europeans, or rather the British. You are to expunge it from your lexicon"). The lecture lasted (as they always do here) exactly one hour. Dad was beside himself with pleasure. He enjoyed the lecture itself (I must admit I did too), and getting away from f*****g "Harmony" did him a world of good. I said I'd bet mum will be still in the room, waiting up on us. She wasn't. Dad said I'd lost my bet, but in she walks, face like thunder, a woman defied. "He's probably tired beyond belief" she says. "Why don't you ask him, he's right here". "Yeah, yeah, you and your clever answers for everything".
Earlier today I woke up at Racheli's house. I had settled down in the computer room, lower floor, level with the patio where we sat last night. It must have been partly dug out as an afterthought for the original house, because the bottom half of the back wall is raw rock, giving the room a starnge cave-like look. Also, there is no direct passage to the rest of the house, you have to walk around the side along the path to the front porch to enter. The front porch is where we had our breakfast: strong black coffee, prepared the Beduin way in a small pot, allowed to almost boil over several times then poured, already sweetened (before I could protest I never sweeten mine, in any style). Still, delicious! We then went to the beach, Racheli got ready for her kayak rowing, my turn would come at 10 or 10:30 am, and it would take an initial introduction/induction session, then a rowing session with the next group or one on one with one of the instructors, possibly Hadas, a giggly, freckled girl with two sun bleached plaits. She is tougher than you'd think, "she rowed her kayak around Japan last year" Racheli tells me. "Around, sorry, did you say..." "Japan", Racheli removes all doubt, "you know, the country, made up of islands". It took 6 months, legend has it. I snap the club members setting off to sea, due south towards the coal powered power station, a massive complex with 3 stacks, said to be the tallest structures of that type in the Middle East. Not much, indeed any smoke visible. Very efficient filteration system, apparently.














I realised I have forgotten to pack my swimming suit. I decided to wade in in my shorts. The water is like a tepid bath, utterly pleasant. How I love the Med!
I got bored, and started walking north along the beach, till I reached the Roman ruins of Caesaria.
















Snap, snap, then back to meet up with the brave sea-farers as they come back to shore. I then got a bit restless, and decided to forgo my introduction to the world of rowing, for today at any rate. An associate of R. turned up to collect some research work she had completed for his company (R. is a marine biologist, Dr. Racheli if you please). We went for a beer in a beach café, no hurry because he is driving to Hertzeliya afterwards, and is happy to give me a lift right to the train station, where I'd left dad's car yesterday evening.