Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sand between my toes, sun above my head
I'm in the midst of my definition of the perfect vacation day. No schedule, ergo slept late. Lounged with hubby. Delicious "cold" coffee, as they call it here. Purchased tickets to a dance performance at the famed Suzanne Dellal dance center. (Planning in advance gives me a thrill.) Now we are settled on the beach, under an umbrella looking out at the Mediterranean, the tower of the ancient Jaffa port in the distance. About to dive into the third book of the trip. (First one was the new Where'd you go, Bernadette?, which I devoured. Next was another Hilary Mantel, called An Experiment in Love. I'd just finished Mantel's memoir, Giving Up the Ghost, and it was interesting how similar the real life Mantel was to the young woman in this novel--which depicts the story of a girl from the wrong side of the tracks who ends up at London School of Economics (as Mantel did), and hob nobs with the more upper crust girls there. Definitely a bit dark--makes me glad not to be an adolescent girl. Now I'm starting Edward Sawtelle, which my sister left for me. Last night, my sister, nephews, bro-in-law, hubby and I had farewell drinks and apps at Manta Ray, our second time at this lovely beach place. Later, we met up with a grade school friend of mine who emigrated here, and hung out in a happening Georgian restaurant in the nabe, where pretty young things were frolicking with sparklers in the garden. Really nice to see this person for the first time in more than 20 years. We've had the opportunity to meet and talk to a number of Israelis so far; people have truly made an effort to connect with us: old friends, friends of friends. Tomorrow we are taking a walking tour of the Bauhaus district with an architectural photographer--a cousin of good friends. I feel as if we're getting an inside view of the country. (Last night, I heard a bit about what it was like to drive a tank, from the husband of my friend. Very dirty. Very loud. Very hot.) And now, back to the beach and my book, until it's too dark to see.