Once, but Never Again

Israel, 1996

Publishing a story about a trip to Israel, may in the current worldwide landscape raise some eyebrows. I am aware that some readers may take it as a statement pro or against. It is not. This is a story about my experiences back in 1996. Experiences, which gave me food for thought.

“Why did you come to Israel”, the stern-looking official asks me with a demanding tone in his voice.
“For a holiday.”
“Who are you traveling with?”
“With a friend”, I answer, pointing at Ing, who is being questioned by one of his colleagues.
“How long have you known each other.”
“Five years.”
“Where have you met?”
“At a skydiving center in The Netherlands.”

“How about going to Israel this fall?”, my friend Ing had asked me earlier this year.
Upon return from last year’s trip to Gran Canaria we had decided that we would plan another fall trip this year. It had been such a blessing to recharge in the sun and have a break from the cold and rain in The Netherlands. Ideally, we would also be able to do a few skydives at our destination. Israel sounded fascinating, should be sunny that time of year and it had a skydiving center. We decided to give it a go.

“Who organized your tour?”, the man continues his interrogation.
“We booked our flights and hotel through a travel agency in The Netherlands.”
“Where did you stay?”
“In Tel Aviv.”
“Which hotel?”
“Why there?”
“How did you know this hotel?”

We had carefully selected our accommodation based on the information and photos in the travel agency’s catalogue. The Top Hotel was said to be situated along the cozy Ben Yehuda Street, and it had opened its doors only three years ago. A small, but friendly and cozy hotel, where we would be able to experience the atmosphere of the vibrant city of Tel Aviv up close.
They had forgotten to mention that the windows of the rooms are barred. And apparently, they had overlooked that the hotel is situated at a busy crossing of one of the town’s main roads, where the noise of traffic is overwhelming around the clock. There was also no mention about the walls not blocking out the sounds of orgies in the adjacent room. The writer of the catalogue may have misunderstood the meaning of the word cozy.