Monday 3rd November 2014
My sister arrived from Spain earlier this weekend and I am starting to feel a bit better, having been laid low by a vicious cold. But I have no voice so every time Lynn or Sandra ring, it's a struggle to make myself understood. The taxi comes at 9.30am and we all set off on time. Bit of a hold up on the M25 but in good time at Terminal 1 Heathrow, in fact it's like a ghost town. It seems that the only airlines using it, El Al and Icelandair, are moving out in 2015. We check in at El Al and security is very tight. My sister and I are interviewed together, get a joint security stamp and told we must stay together at all times. A supervisor comes along and grills us about where we live, what towns we are visiting in Israel and why, whose idea was the trip (mine), so why is my sister coming? and then nods to the assistant and we can go through. Lynn has her hand luggage checked and swabbed for drugs but then again, she does have a shifty look about her,(I suppose it's with her being Welsh). Sandra is very unlucky and is actually taken away to an office where she is quizzed by 4 assistants. Of course, she is from Liverpool and is probably viewed as a massive security risk.
When we are all reunited we feel the need for coffee and a shop, which is just as well as the walk to the boarding gate afterwards was 15 minutes as it was inTerminal 2. The moving pavements actually went downhill and then uphill, a bit like a funfair ride. At the boarding gate, Carol's and my passport were taken away again and eventually brought back by an assistant who looked a lot shiftier than we did anyway. Inevitable 30 minutes delay while the plane was " cleaned, re catered, and security checked". Is re cater a verb then? Meanwhile Sandra, the security risk, engaged in conversation with an old gentleman who was fretting that he couldn't walk and they had taken away his wheelchair. Why he asked Sandra for help I don't know as he seemed to be travelling with a group of old people. She reassured him that she had asked the staff for help and they had said they would provide another wheelchair once the other passengers had boarded. We were very surprised therefore when we saw that he was already in his seat by the time we got onboard. I reckon he got up and ran once we left. Perhaps he was a descendant of Lazarus.
Quite an old plane I think. There were tiny individual screens but you couldn't watch a film on demand, they were on a loop. Wouldn't have wanted to anyway, as I hadn't heard of any of them. Pre dinner drinks were disappointing, no G&T, no anything except a miniature glass of Israeli wine. Oh dear, I hope this is not an omen.
4 hours later and we are landing at Tel Aviv, where we turn our watches forward two hours, making it 9.30pm. Amazing -the pilot has picked up 50 minutes en route. Third degree questioning at immigration, Why are you here? Where are you staying tonight? Have you been to Africa in the past month? Etc etc. but nice tour guide and coach waiting to whisk us away to our hotel.
And so to bed at the Grand Beach Hotel on Tel Aviv seafront.
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