It seems strange to be writing about Israel when so many people in the world right now are calling for the destruction of the country. This week was Israel’s independence day, and all the articles that I saw in the UK were centred on the 76 years of Palistine’s occupation. It is hard living in a country that doesn’t respect Jewish people, and to see so many of the people around me spouting antisemitic rhetoric while protesting a ‘genocide’ as if they don’t understand what a war is. While I have a very complicated belief about the current war, I understand the history of the area and who has claimed the land at different stages of time.
But, that is not fun to think about, whereas my time in Israel and Palestine was fun. Day 8 found us in Bethlehem where we got to visit the Church of the Nativity. This is one of the oldest continuously run churches in the world. It is currently run by three different religious groups, Greek Orthodox, Catholics and Armenian Apostolic. You can see the influences of the different religions in the architecture and the way that the church is decorated. It is within this church that the spot where Jesus was born is marked with a 14-pointed silver star.
We then wandered through the city and did the stations of the cross, stopping at each site in the busy city streets. We ended at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (which is called the Church of the Resurrection).
This was the last part of the tour, so my parents and I went back into the city for a final dinner together. I ended up having a very rushed goodbye with them at the airport and didn’t get to see them again for almost 10 months. It was worth spending time with them though and learning a lot more about the region. Israel is a place I would visit again, and Tel Aviv is a city that I could see myself living in. It makes me sad to think that some of these places have been destroyed because of the war or that some of the people that we met could be dead, or could have family who have died. I wonder what happened to our tour guide Rafe. He has such a love for Israel and had such a love for the fact that we were Jewish and he could show us our culture in a real and in-depth way.
It is one of the best vacations I have ever taken, and I hope to return to Israel one day.
I took another long break from writing. Shortly after my last post on October 7th, Hamas led an attack on Israeli soil, the first since the first since the Arab-Israeli War in 1948. 1,200 Jewish people were killed, and a resurgence of Israel-Hamas war has now divided the world.
I find myself in a place today where a little bit of writing about something fun might pull me out of the sadness of the last few months.
Day 7 saw us taking a cable car ride up Mount Masada, the fortress of Herod the Great. According to UNESCO World Heritage:
It is a symbol of the ancient kingdom of Israel, its violent destruction and the last stand of Jewish patriots in the face of the Roman army, in 73 A.D. It was built as a palace complex, in the classic style of the early Roman Empire, by Herod the Great, King of Judaea, (reigned 37 – 4 B.C.). The camps, fortifications and attack ramp that encircle the monument constitute the most complete Roman siege works surviving to the present day.
After Mount Masada, we took a drive through the Judean Hills to Mount Scopus to get the best views of Jerusalem. We then went to Mount of Olives where the western part of the slope has been used as a Jewish cemetery for 3,000 years. It is also the place where Jesus is said to have ascended to Heaven. The tour ventured to Mount Zion and King David’s tomb, the site associated with King David’s burial. The tomb is on the ground floor of a church that is said to hold the room of the Last Supper.
We ended the night at the Western Wall. The Western Wall (called the Wailing Wall by most people in the West), is an ancient limestone wall in the old city of Jerusalem in the spot known as Temple Mount. It is the holiest spot for Jewish people to pray as it is believed to be the last part of our Holy Temple. There is a tradition at the wall where people leave notes in the cracks of the wall for health and wellbeing. My mom and I left a note of health for a friend of ours who has cancer and generally took in the magnitude of such a place. I don’t cry much (okay, that’s a lie, I cry all the time), but it was such an overwhelming feeling seeing women praying and practising sorrow meditation.
One of the things that bothered me on this tour was that my mom and I were the only Jews doing the tour so we had to deal with the ignorance of a lot of the people on the tour. While Jewish women were praying at the wall, many of the women in our tour group were taking selfies or photos of their hands touching the wall. I have limited patience for the ignorance of others, and these people seemed completely oblivious to the seriousness of where we were. I’d been dealing with this for the entire trip, and I’m not sure I was great at hiding my facial expressions most of the time. Even our tour guide had a hard time with a lot of these people. He’d sit with me at the group dinners or walk with me when we were going to different sites and talk to me about the people and fun places to visit in the city when we had some free time.
This was the start of the wind-down of the trip and I was not ready to have to say goodbye to my parents. I never look forward to that part of my trip.
I’ve taken a long break from writing, and I’d like to say that it was because I was doing something fun, but it hasn’t been. I’m back in California for an extended period of time, and, while I’m not fully ready to discuss it, I thought getting back into writing about things that make me happy may help me start to feel better.
Day 6 in Israel took us to the Dead Sea. It was hot….like 40 degrees hot. We were there in the late afternoon, and it still did nothing to cool the water.
You really do float in the Dead Sea, and it really does wonders for your skin. I did not go out too far because I was barefoot and the sea floor is not fun on your bare feet. But I did enjoy the benefits of the salt water for the next few weeks.
Before we arrived at the sea, we spent the day on the Sea of Galilee taking a boat ride and enjoying the Ginosar Kibbutz. According to jesusboat.com:
The Kibbutz was founded in 1937 by idealist Zionist youth, and was named after the ancient city. Its most famous resident, Yigal Alon (1918-1980), was one of the Israeli Army’s most notable commanders and a prominent minister in Israel’s governments. Despite being surrounded by hostile population in its initial years of existence, Kibbutz Ginosar quickly gained a reputation for the warm hospitality that it provides for travelers. Among the many people hosted by the Kibbutz was Hannah Szenes, who later became a symbol of heroism for Israeli youth when she joined a daring mission behind the enemy lines during World War II, from which she did not return. Szenes stayed at the Kibbutz during a trip at the area in 1940, and described in her diary how impressed she was with the resident’s struggle.
In 1986, two brothers from the Kibbutz have discovered the remains of the ancient boat on the northwest shore of the Sea of the Galilee. 27 feet long and 7.5 feet wide, the boat was constructed of ten different kinds of wood, and was meant to allow fishing close to the shore. The extraction and preservation process of the boat was long and complex, and now it can be seen at the Kibbutz’s museum.
It was the dating of the boat using radiocarbon dating which brought the real exciting news: the boat dates back to the time of Jesus Christ. Indeed, it fits the many description of boats from the Holy Scriptures, as the one mentioned in the Gospel of Luke. A sign that the boat relates to sacred times was given at the time of its discovery: the two brothers who discovered the boat reported seeing a double rainbow in the sky on the same day.
We then went on to visit Capernaum, where Jesus is said to have entered the synagogue to teach, before heading to the Mount of Beatitudes, where he preached the Sermon on the Mount. We finally got to see a temple, and not just any synagogue, but the Synagogue of Capernaum, which was built in the 4th century and is also known as the ‘The White Synagogue” as it was built from white stones from nearby Galilee and was a beacon amongst the typical grey buildings of the area. It is known as one of the oldest synagogues in the world, and according to Wikipedia:
The building consists of four parts: the praying hall, the western patio, a southern balustrade and a small room at the northwest of the building. The praying hall measured 24.4 by 18.65 m (80.1 by 61.2 ft), with the southern face looking toward Jerusalem. The internal walls were covered with painted plaster and fine stucco work found during the excavations. Watzinger, like Orfali, believed that there had been an upper floor reserved for women, with access by means of an external staircase located in the small room, but this opinion was not substantiated by the later excavations of the site.
One block of homes, called by the Franciscan excavators the sacra insula or “holy insula” (“insula” refers to a block of homes around a courtyard) was found to have a complex history. Located between the synagogue and the lake shore, it was found near the front of a labyrinth of houses from many different periods. Three principal layers have been identified:
A group of private houses built around the 1st century BC which remained in use until the early 4th century.
The great transformation of one of the homes in the 4th century.
The octagonal church built in the middle of the 5th century.
The excavators concluded that one house in the village was venerated as the house of Peter the fisherman as early as the mid-1st century, with two churches having been constructed over it
I’m not sure how I feel about modern churches being built over ancient sites, but I guess that is always going to be a thing. It was another day of listening to Rafi and really enjoying his stories and the way that he presented the history. As I mentioned in the last post, I really wish that I had journaled as we went so I could have captured all of the things that we learned, but I was just so happy to be in Israel and be with my parents that I did not think about being a good little travel writer.
Israel is not just deserts and old cities. It has a large agricultural region in the north that has an abundance of fresh water and serves as a major stopover for birds during migration. The Hula Valley has a marshland and reserve where the birds are protected and have a safe place to stop during their long journey between Africa, Europe and Asia.
When we toured the valley it was really hot, and honestly, I wasn’t that interested. We weren’t there during migration, so there weren’t a lot of birds and the bus life and listening to the cultural ignorance of some of the other members were really working on my nerves.
From the Hula Valley, we drove to Mount Bental. Mount Bental is located in Golan Heights and there is an old bunker left over from the old Syrian border. The old army bunkers are now open to the public, having been left over from the Yom Kippur War 1973. According to Wikipedia (because I cannot remember everything that Rafi told us during the visit):
This was one of the largest tank wars, and by some miracle, Israel won with only 160 tanks. Rafi was a tank man and had a lot of personal stories, and since my dad is a tank man, so he especially enjoyed this part of the trip. At the top of the mountain, you can see all the way to Syria and Lebanon, which really puts in perspective how close the borders are and how precarious this part of the world is.
On the walk from the car park to the bunker, the path was lined with some amazing artwork made out of recycled parts. There was a massive pirate ship that I would have loved to take home with me. PRC certainly would have enjoyed it.
The last stop of the day was at the Tel Shifon Winery. The winery is in a kibbutz and we were able to sample a selection of wine. The tour group sat at massive tables, but because my dad wandered off, there were no seats for us. We sat on some couches near the group, but Rafi sat with us, and because he knew the manager, we got full glasses of wine and chat with Rafi about Israel, his time in the army and his family. It was much better than having to make small talk with the people driving me crazy. Even Raif was amazed at some of the people and their questions. By the time we got to the winery, I think he was happy for the break. The winery had its own tank among the vines which was not something I have seen before.
We ended the day back in Tiberias where we enjoyed dinner at a Lebanese restaurant called Hermitage Tiberias. They had a really cool room that was a stone cutout and we tried a little bit of the local cuisine. Once again we watched the difficult woman in our tour group complain about the way the fish was cooked and the service and generally everything about the restaurant. We weren’t sitting with her, but it was pretty embarrassing how rude she was. The restaurant seemed to be family owned, the staff who served us were okay, and the food was delicious. I was proud of my parents for trying the food there as they are not always the most adventurous of eaters (or at least my mom isn’t).
I feel a bit bad that I didn’t write things down as they happened because we learned so much at each of the places. I was in such need of a vacation that I didn’t journal as I usually do, and now months later, I find myself struggling to remember some of what I learned. I think I know now why my mom saves all the maps and brochures from places. I probably need to start doing that.
On the bus bright and early for a trip to Caesarea, a coastal area between Tel Aviv and Haifa. It is a national park on the coast that features ancient ruins including the old palace, an amphitheatre still used for concerts today, and an old chariot racing area. It was all built by King Herod . Just outside the park is Adquaduct Beach, where you can enjoy not only an amazing beach but the marvel of the aqueduct. It was warm and there was a total lack of shade, but I love a good wander through history. Rafi has a way of telling you things like they are a story rather than just listing off facts, but the number of annoying questions asked by one of the men in the group caused me to disengage a bit and just soak up the sunshine on my own.
From there we travelled north to the city of Haifa, often called the ‘Capital of the North’. We stopped at the Bahai Gardens, which are considered one of the holiest places for the Bahai faith.
Before we arrived at the gardens, I’d never heard of the Bahai religion. It has been a while since the tour, and I did not write everything down as it happened, so I went to good old Wikipedia to help me out. According to them, Bahai:
The Baháʼí Faith is a religion founded in the 19th century that teaches the essential worth of all religions and the unity of all people. Established by Baháʼu’lláh, it initially developed in Iran and parts of the Middle East, where it has faced ongoing persecution since its inception. The religion is estimated to have 5–8 million adherents, known as Baháʼís, spread throughout most of the world’s countries and territories.
The Baháʼí Faith has three central figures: the Báb (1819–1850), considered a herald who taught his followers that God would soon send a prophet who would be similar to Jesus or Muhammad and was executed by the Iranian authorities in 1850; Baháʼu’lláh (1817–1892), who claimed to be that prophet in 1863 and faced exile and imprisonment for most of his life; and his son, ʻAbdu’l-Bahá (1844–1921), who was released from confinement in 1908 and made teaching trips to Europe and the United States. After ʻAbdu’l-Bahá’s death in 1921, the leadership of the religion fell to his grandson Shoghi Effendi (1897–1957). Baháʼís annually elect local, regional, and national Spiritual Assemblies that govern the religion’s affairs, and every five years an election is held for the Universal House of Justice, the nine-member supreme governing institution of the worldwide Baháʼí community that is located in Haifa, Israel, near the Shrine of the Báb.
According to Baháʼí teachings, religion is revealed in an orderly and progressive way by a single God through Manifestations of God, who are the founders of major world religions throughout human history; Buddha, Jesus, and Muhammad are noted as the most recent of these before the Báb and Baháʼu’lláh. Baháʼís regard the world’s major religions as fundamentally unified in purpose, but diverging in terms of social practices and interpretations. The Baháʼí Faith stresses the unity of all people as its core teaching and explicitly rejects notions of racism, sexism, and nationalism. At the heart of Baháʼí teachings is the goal of a unified world order that ensures the prosperity of all nations, races, creeds, and classes.
After some time to see the garden, we headed southeast to Nazareth. Now those of you who are familiar with the Bible will be really familiar with Nazareth. It is the centre of Christian pilgrimages and the birthplace of Mary. It is the home of the Church of Annunciation.
The Church of Annunciation is a really interesting church. It is said to be built on the spot where the Angel Gabriel came to Mary to tell her that she would give birth to Yeshua. The church was built over the site that is said to be the house of Mary (the photo of the altar) and what is said to be Joseph’s workshop. I made friends with the local cats and tried my best to get a kitten into my bag, but he was not quite ready to give up his life hustling tourists for snacks.
The last stop of the day was in the city of Tiberias on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. I had a room with a view….but broke the balcony door when I tried to open it, and had two slightly disgruntled men spend 30 minutes in my room trying to fix it. Luckily my room was connected to my parent’s room, so I just opened the connecting door and hung out in their room while I waited. I swear it was not my fault.
Since we were there for Shabbos, we had a traditional Shabbat dinner, complete with prayers. Now, I’m not super religious by any means, but I do respect the tradition, and I was on a cultural holiday, so more than willing to embrace everything.
….and this is where the problems started. My mom and I were the only Jewish people on the tour, so we had to endure a lot of cultural ignorance. Because it was Saturday, the lifts were in shabbos mode, which means they stop on every floor so that people do not have to push the buttons and ‘do work’ which is prohibited on Saturdays. There were Hasidic and Conservative Jews staying at the hotel, and they take their customs seriously. I ended up sitting next to a woman from Kentucky who was travelling alone. She started the dinner by complaining about the lift being in Shabbos mode and dragging the tradition. She then complained about the rooms, having asked to change rooms three times. She complained about the bar not having bartenders who spoke English (everyone I encountered on the entire trip spoke enough English to help with whatever we needed) and then complained that she couldn’t get a gin and tonic. I tried to explain that Jewish people aren’t really spirit drinkers and that for Shabbos we drink wine, but since it wasn’t expensive white wine, she wasn’t having it. I tried my best to educate her on Judaism and remind her that just because she found aspects of the religion inconvenient, didn’t mean that they weren’t worth respecting. I left the dinner early because I spent all day being respectful of Christian sites of worship, and this woman couldn’t spend half an hour learning about my religion. Sometimes it is exhausting being Jewish and constantly having to deal with ignorance, antisemitism (not that what she was doing was antisemitism), and stereotypes that get hurled at you. Living in Scotland, I constantly hear that I am the first Jewish person that someone has met, and I am nothing like they thought a Jewish person would look or act like.
The best part of the hotel was that the places in the area fed the local feral cats, so there were plenty of little gatitos to pet. I found yet another that I wanted to bring home with me….at least until he bit me when I tried to pet him instead of feed him.
My second day in Tel Aviv was spent doing one of my favourite things: hunting for Miro’s paintings. While I love being able to spend time with my parents, I also value my solo wandering time, so while they wandered the beach, I took myself to the Tel Aviv Museum of Art. First built in 1932, it became the site for the signing of the Israeli Declaration of Independence in 1948.
The museum did not disappoint. It had a good collection of some of my favourite artists, including Joan Miro.
After my culture shot, I spent some more time by the pool with my mom and then we met the tour group. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole thing when we first met Rafi our guide. I was the youngest, but unlike previous trips, not the only one travelling solo. Usually, the Insight Tours are full of couples and families, so it was a nice change of pace to have some other solo travellers…..or so I thought (but more on that later, because it gets really interesting).
The first official day of the tour started with a drive around Tel Aviv and a trip back to Carmel Market, although it was more of a quick walk-through. We then ventured down the seaside to the old city of Jaffa to see the famous clock tower and the harbour. Jaffa is most known for its biblical stories of St Peter, Jonah and Solomon, and is also known for its oranges (for those of you in the UK, think Jafa cakes, which are made with Jafa oranges).
As we wandered the old city we got to see the suspended orange tree, an art installation constructed in 1993 by artist Ran Morin. According to Atlas Obscura:
The roots are enclosed in a large earthenware container and the trunk emanates from a large crack near the top. It’s as if the tree is breaking free of its confines into the warm courtyard air outside. Morin intended for the tree to draw parallels with society’s relationship with nature.
What I quickly learned on day 1 of the tour was that Rafi, our tour guide was an amazing man who really knew his history. He had degrees in Sociology, Theology, biology and had been a tour guide for many years. He is a nationalist and grew up as a conservative Jew. He served in the military and especially loves meeting Jewish people who are in Israel for the first time. When he learned that my mom and I were Jewish, he made sure to point things out to us and sit with us at lunch. He also had the patience of a saint to deal with some of the questions that people asked. I have a hard time dealing with the ignorance of others, but some of these people took it to a whole new level. Thank goodness my parents are not always interested in making friends with the people on the bus and we were able to have dinner on our own in an Irish pub….because where else would we take a crusty old Irishman?
Happy Passover! I am lucky enough to have been able to sneak away from Edinburgh and come to Prague for a few days. While here, I promised myself that I would catch up on all the fun things I wanted to write about but lost the motivation for. That starts with the trip that I took to Israel in September of 2022.
I’ve wanted to visit Israel for years. I tried to do birthright when I was younger, but just never made it work, so when my parents were ready to come to visit me after a long pandemic, my dad suggested that we take my mom to Israel to celebrate her 65th birthday. I was totally on board with the idea, and my mom went to her trusty Insight Vacations and found an Israel/Palestine trip that was jam-packed with history and culture. We decided to meet in London and travel from there to Israel together, and it was the first time I got to be in the same room with my parents in more than a year.
Needless to say, I was a very happy Kim. We landed in Israel after midnight but had a a couple of days before the tour started to do as we pleased in Tel Aviv. We wandered along the beach to an outdoor market and enjoyed the sunshine and warm weather. The Shuk Hacarmel or Carmel Market is the largest outdoor market in Tel Aviv. According to Tourist Israel:
The Carmel Market first opened in 1920, some eleven years after the establishment of the city. It is an integral part of the history of Tel Aviv. Although much of the trade has now shifted to modern malls and the internet, the market is still immensely popular. Its narrow street is busy whenever you visit, particularly before Shabbat on Thursdays and Fridays, as residents buy supplies for their family meals. Recent years have seen a growing number of boutique stalls and food places opening alongside the traditional traders. They range from boutique beers to arrays of halva, and small eateries who take advantage of the market’s produce.
The Carmel Market is relatively simple in layout and location. The ‘Shuk’ occupies one street which runs south from the junction of King George Street, Allenby, and Sheinkin Street to the Carmelit Bus depot in the south. The side streets off of the market also host some small traders. The activity is not as spread out as in Jerusalem’s main market, Machane Yehuda.
One of the best things about the first hotel was the rooftop pool. Summers in Scotland aren’t really known for their sunshine, so I am usually in desperate need of a tan (even now, I am appallingly white after a long harsh winter). We ended the first day in my favourite way…..getting tattooed. I can usually talk my mom into a tattoo, but this time I was able to talk my dad into not one, but two tattoos! I’ve been getting tattooed for 18 years and he has never been okay with it, but I was finally able to talk him into it, and now he has a cross and Star of David to represent his family. We went to Kipod Tattoo shop, and both got tattooed by Lera Torgovitsky. She was amazing! She’d done her time in the military, and when we saw her, she was getting ready to take her mom to a music festival in Sweden. I absolutely loved her, and so did my dad.
It has been months, and I still cannot believe that my dad actually got tattooed.
Depression is a strange thing. It pops up when you least expect it, and for me, it kills the joy of doing almost everything, even writing. I used to love writing and loved keeping this blog up to date. In the last couple of years though, it has been harder and harder to find the motivation to do much more than ensure I don’t get fired. Now that winter is finally over and daylight lasts a little bit longer, I hope that things will sort themselves out.
One of my biggest fears is that I will wake up in ten years and not realise all of that time has passed. Next week will be four years at the University of Glasgow, and I have no idea how that happened. The pandemic was a blur of nonstop work and three years later, not much has changed. I feel like my cycle of burnout at work comes faster and faster now. Because I don’t have the free time that I did when I was a PhD student, the trips and adventures are too few and far between. The ridiculous cost of living and travel hasn’t helped either. So, because of that, I have spent far too much time on my couch overworked and underappreciated, and at the end of the day, I do not feel like I have anything fun or interesting to say. In essence, my worst fear has come true. This has left me feeling restless and cagey and very very grumpy. I am tired of feeling tired and very tired of feeling negative.
It also does not help that addiction has claimed the life of yet another brother. He died almost 7 years to the day that the other brother died, which has made it extra difficult for my dad. At least this time my mom was with him and not here with me. I still worry about my dad though because he takes most of the blame for it, and isn’t really interested in something like grief counselling. It has been a few months now and things are starting to find their way back to a new normal, but it is hard to be so far away from everyone. I’m never really sure how anyone is holding up, and I have had to do all of my processing solo, which isn’t always fun.
I have decided that in an effort to pull myself out of my slump, I will revisit the trips that I took at the end of 2022 that I did not chronicle as they happened. I’m headed to Prague next week for some real time off, and plan to do as much writing for fun as possible and enjoy a short city break.
April was the last time I sat down and wrote anything for fun. Honestly, my job is killing me, and I’ve not had the energy to sit down and write for fun. There is, however, a backlog of things to write about, so as long as I find some motivation, then I can fill some pages.
In May I made a break from work and the not-so-warm weather and headed to Sal, Cape Verde. Cape Verde is a country in West Africa, located off the west coast of Senegal. Sal is a small island, and there is not much to do on the island but relax on the perfect, white sandy beach and enjoy the perfect weather and clear clean water. The entire week I spent on the island was 25, and there was only one cloudy day. I was honestly looking for just that environment. I stayed at The Morabeza Hotel which had really pretty grounds and some no-frills rooms that had a lovely balcony. The hotel was situated next to where the fishermen worked, so I could watch them walk fresh fish from the sea to the restaurant. The food was really tasty. They even have security staff that walk around the hotel grounds to keep everyone safe.
Armed with a book of crossword puzzles, a sci-fi novel and a massive bottle of SPF 50, I was determined to get a tan and relax. Little did I know that the island was also filled with dogs who run wild on the beach and are very happy to hang out with humans. Between that and the warm weather, I was in complete heaven.
I fell in love with two of the dogs. I even looked up what it would take to bring them back to Scotland with me. Then I decided it was probably better if I moved to Sal because the puppies at the beach had sunshine and warm weather, and I couldn’t give them all of that in Edinburgh. I was forced to leave a big piece of my heart on the island with my puppy protector. The part of the island where I stayed is almost 100% dependent on tourists, so the locals are constantly trying to get you to buy trinkets or go on a tour of the island, and while the resort keeps them off the property, they can’t keep them off the beach. While none of the people made me feel unsafe, I did feel a bit uncomfortable. This dog came and sat with me and would growl at anyone that got too close to me. As you can see from the photos above, he napped when he felt I was safe. On the days the dog wasn’t around, I hung out at the pool and enjoyed a soft lounge chair, a warm salt pool and views of the ocean.
The only downside to the holiday was I really was on my own. I didn’t really speak to people, and I did miss that a little. Usually, when I travel solo I go on tours, I have a lot of things to do to keep me busy, and I don’t really mind if I don’t speak to a lot of people. This time, there wasn’t much of that, and I did not feel super comfortable wandering outside of the resort on my own. I did walk to the local Irish pub (about 4 mins from the hotel) a couple of times to get dinner, and the staff there were lovely, and the food was amazing. If I returned to the island, I’d do it with someone just to ease that loneliness a bit.
All in all, though, I felt very relaxed when I came home, and enjoyed my first introduction to Africa. I enjoyed a different type of vacation than I am used to, actually felt a bit more relaxed when I got home, got enough vitamin d to last until summer really started.
By day 5 I was tired. I’d walked, I’d explored, I’d eaten, and I needed to rest. I stayed inside most of the day and watched Netflix and wrote in my adventure diary. In the afternoon, I did my favourite thing: I got tattooed. I went to Dot and Daggers Tattoo (https://www.dotsanddaggers.com/) and they were able to fit me in last minute. I’d booked in a session with them in November, but it got cancelled when they went back into lockdown. The shop was my favourite type of shop: good music, friendly staff and amazing artwork. I got a hummingbird skull and some flowers to go with the desert happening on my arm. It was worth every second.
My last day in the city was a sunny and warmish day, so I spent the day in the park. But not just any park. The park at the Schönbrunn Palace. This was the summer palace for the Habsburgs. According to Wikipedia:
The 1,441-room Rococo palace is one of the most important architectural, cultural, and historic monuments in the country. The history of the palace and its vast gardens spans over 300 years, reflecting the changing tastes, interests, and aspirations of successive Habsburg monarchs. It has been a major tourist attraction since the mid-1950s.
I bought a new duck and ended the day finding an old mosaic of a cow and a wolf playing backgammon. According to Atlas Obscura:
IN THE 15TH CENTURY, ENEA Silvio Bartolomeo Piccolomini, better known later in life as Pope Pius II, described all the fine houses of Vienna as being painted inside and out with fabulous scenery. Like the marginalia found in illuminated manuscripts, the houses would have featured religious and historic portraiture, along with some humorous imagery for good measure.
These medieval murals have mostly been destroyed by time, but one, of the humorous variety, can be seen today on a house in Vienna’s historic center. The facade of the Hasenaus (“Hare House”) features a wolf and a cow in spectacles engaged in a game of backgammon. Behind the board are the legs of a man, who appears to be holding a fly swatter, perhaps to attend to the players.
One explanation for this absurd scene is that it is an allegory for the political tensions between Protestants and Catholics. It’s not clear who’s winning. Others have suggested that the man behind the game is a furrier eagerly awaiting the conclusion of the game so he can take the hide of the loser.
The wall painting dates approximately to 1509. The house would have been originally been covered with scenes of medieval life, in particular one large motif of a rabbit hunt (hence the name). But when it was refurbished in the 18th century, all but the backgammon game was lost. Luckily, it has been carefully preserved so that Viennese and visitors alike can admire it, wondering what it’s supposed to mean.
The mural was down an unassuming side street, and I am glad that I detoured to find it. I returned to Scotland feeling like I’d had proper time off, got some good culture and allowed myself to separate from my work for a bit. It was a really good way to end my 34th year.
The Scamp Abroad 