Israel, Day 1, 22 Dec.

For the first time in ten years there are non-stop flights between Denmark and Israel.  We booked our flight almost four weeks before our departure and started planning other parts of our trip.  It turns out other people plan further ahead because many of the places we checked were booked.  After talking with friends who have spent time in Israel we decided to sign up for out first tour.  It was a big step, but it made sense since the kids hate when we get lost (not really lost, just not the most direct route) and we had a long list of things to see.  Then the next hitch - we had accidentally signed up for the Christian tour.  It is hard to figure out how to say this without sounding anti-Christian, but we had imagined a different experience for the trip.  The company was able to find a trip that was geared toward families with b'nai mitzvah-aged kids that almost fit our schedule, which seemed like a good match.

There had been incredible storms that shut many European airports, but there was no snow the day of our departure.  It was -15C as we waited for the bus to the train station, but we knew it would be +15C when we landed, which warmed us a bit.  All was on schedule until we were just outside of the main Copenhagen station, when the train came to a stop.  "Just a ten-minute delay," the engineer said.  And then another ten.  After one hour we were on our way, but that had significantly cut into the three-hour window we were told we needed at the airport.  Everyone stayed calm (not just our family, everyone on the train was calm - no shouting, no swearing, no complaining) and we eventually reached the main station.  We found the right train, only to be told to get on a different train.  A little panic set in arriving at the airport with only ninety minutes before our flight, but we were smart enough to ask what the sign in Danish said (check in electronically before standing in this line), there was no wait at security, and when Arlo's bag was randomly selected for inspection it took only a couple of minutes.  Three hours after leaving the house we were at our gate.

Security in Israel was as expected.  There were guards watching as we walked off the jetway and there were long lines at customs.  Along with the standard questions we were asked David's dad's first name (he uses it only as an initial).  We were in!

We found the taxi (our driver spoke English, Hebrew, Arabic, and his native Russian) and headed to Jerusalem.  We had forgotten about traffic jams, honking, and other aspects of big city life, but we safe and sound and ready for adventure.

Our first adventure was the grocery store, at which we had to open our bags for inspection for the security guard.  We were lucky that food is easy to understand because we were illiterate again.  The cashier did not seem to understand English but the people behind us did (a couple from Irvine, CA - if we had spent more time I am confident we would have found mutual friends) and we were set.  We were expected to do our own bagging, but the bags were provided.

Hotel rooms are small (two twin beds pushed together, but adjoining rooms are available) and each room had a mezuzah.  There was a Shabbat elevator that went from the lobby to the top floor and then stopped at every floor so you could get on and off without pressing a button.  There was also a synagogue in each hotel so people could perform their daily prayers.  In order to serve the Orthodox (not ultra-Orthodox) community they observed mechitzah, the separation of men and women.

The day ended with flipping through the television stations (almost as many English stations as Hebrew) and enjoying fresh pita and hummus.  Tomorrow we would explore on our own before the others arrived from the U.S.