Australia day 2

28 June

During the night the heavens opened up and poured a torrent of rain upon us. Snug in our camper van, we listened to the rain, replete with lightening and thunder, pelting our high fiberglass top. This deluge more than made up for the monsoon that missed us in Mumbai. As the black of night furtively became a heavy gray dawn, I could see that a shallow lake had formed beneath our camper while we slept. I had to roll up my jeans and wade out into this lake in my crocs to disconnect the power cable feeding juice to our house [boat].

It was our first night in our camper. There are going to be adjustment as we get comfortable with this arrangement, but so far so good. We have to pat ourselves on the back for making it through our first night. We pulled away from our pond at Myalup and headed for the town of Bunbury in the rain. When we got there our first priority was to find a McDonald's so we could connect to the Internet and check e-mail and post the latest blog entries. We saw a sign pointing to a McDonald's in town somewhere, but then no more follow-up signs of McDonald's were posted again along the way there. We found the Tourist Information Centre on our way to the highlight of Bunbury, its dolphins. The nice woman inside marked several worthy destinations on a map of Bunbury, including the McDonald's. The dolphin experience lost its appeal when we learned that the dolphins were free-living and not likely to be seen. She arranged for Razelle to get disabled parking in Bunbury, but the permit probably won't be valid anywhere else. We'll have to wait and see. She also said there was an Internet café around the corner that was more convenient than McDonald's. We took her suggestion and patronized the place; it's called the Café Fez. Razelle ordered scrambled eggs; I had an Irish cream (flavored) coffee. This gave us the privilege to use their Wi-Fi connection. We spent a good hour during the shank of the morning hooked up to the Internet, reading and writing mail, and checking out information about the area we are in. And, of course, posting to the blog. The price for this privilege was far greater than it would have been at McDonald's, which annoyed me a lot.

We drove south along the coast far later in the day than I would have liked. I feel a lot more competent about driving now after a night's rest and after logging some more driving time today. The scenery was breathtaking along this section. At one point we found a bay with great foaming waves crashing on a crescent-shaped coastline with a few rocks offshore that sent spray skyward when struck by waves, reminiscent of breaching whales spouting.

The rain had cleared up so we tarried here long enough to pose for pictures of each other against this backdrop and to marvel at the plant forms along the hiking trail, plant forms that looked like nothing I'd ever seen before.

Eventually the road moved in from the coast and passed through the most majestic stands of tall brown-and-beige mottled eucalyptus trees we'd ever seen.

Needing to take a break, we pulled into a side road leading to one of the caves in the area and parked. Accessible toilets were on the right and a nature center was on the left. Razelle and I each headed toward the object of our immediate interest. I asked lots of questions about all the unusual plants we'd seen so far. The woman who manned this center got out reference material for me to look through and we began to speak to each other in a mixture of Latin and (two forms of) English as she and I discussed the taxonomic relationships of these native plants to ones I knew from other parts of the world. Razelle watched this from the side with amusement. She saw two people with a common interest both in their element. The cave, unlike the toilets, was not accessible to the disabled, so we didn't visit it.

Driving onward, I now had a grounding in what kind of greenery was coming at us. This helped me enjoy the scenery even more than before.

Our ultimate destination along this coastal area was Augusta and the lighthouse at land's end. In this south-western-most corner of Australia is a tiny peninsula. You can park at its base, pay admission at the visitors' center and walk its length between two oceans to the lighthouse at its tip and climb up inside it.

We declined, but we did take pictures of the two oceans (the Indian Ocean and the Southern Sea).

The skies were welling up again with rain clouds as we returned to Augusta. You could miss this town if you weren't paying attention. We found an IGA grocery store and bought a few things for the camper experience and then headed out into the dark as the first raindrops began to fall. It was only 5:30 PM. It seemed a shame to stay put here for the night when our next destination was reachable within an hour or two of driving. Even though there were several caravan sites here, we pushed on in the dark and now pouring rain. Not another set of headlights were seen the rest of the night as I drove on through a national forest to a tiny town called Nannup. It had a caravan park, according to the literature. When we finally reached Nannup at about 7:30 PM the proprietor of the caravan park remarked that we were out late. It wasn't even 8:00 PM; that's considered late? It is around here -- because of the risk of running into an emu or a kangaroo in the dark. We'd seen neither, but I will take this information to heart from now on. Because nobody, I mean NOBODY, was on the road with us. Had anything happened to us during that drive, help wouldn't have come until daylight.

Setting up for the night was already easier than it had been the night before. We had a better idea where things were and how to accommodate each other in our cozy camper. Walking back and forth outside I noticed that the rain had stopped and the stars were out again. I immediately found the southern cross and smiled.

Australia day 1

27 June 2011

Check-out time at the Aaron Hotel was 10:00 AM so we had much to do before this hour arrived. I headed for McDonald's while Razelle packed. I originally planned to take public transportation to the camper rental place, so I sat at McDonald's surfing for information on Perth's transportation system. I wrote down the bus routes and numbers. I also posted the previous blog entry, checked my email and logged into our bank's website to see if we were still living within our means. In the end, it made more sense to just take a cab to the rental place. Good thing, too. The whole process of paperwork and formalities took around an hour. Razelle and I threw our worldly possessions into the camper and started out.

Driving a manual-geared over-sized vehicle on the other side of the road was so much sensory overload that I was afraid I'd overestimated my own abilities to adapt. On at least three occasions I had a lapse of judgment that could have ended the trip dead in its tracks. It took the two of us to keep the craft within its lane and pointed in the right direction (I had a tendency to drift too far to the left and I even hit the curb once, after which Razelle kept reminding me, "more to right, more to right!"). After a while I decided that it was all too much! We pulled into a restaurant parking lot, went in and ordered food. I ate too fast and my ring wouldn't let it pass. I lost my meal in the bathroom.

Back in the camper I almost left the parking lot pointing in the wrong direction, but Razelle, by faithful companion, stopped me from doing so. Finally, as we left the congestion of built up Perth, I was able to concentrate on the task at hand and calm down. Farther to the south we pulled off the road again and parked by a large grocery store called Woolworths, located in an extensive shopping complex. It had no bathroom. We had to cross a street to a small park to use the public toilets. We bought a few supplies for the camping trip and entered traffic again, this time with far more competence. I was managing to cope with the gear shifting and lane width and roundabouts much better now. In fact, it was obvious enough to Razelle as we headed south through open country that I was getting the hang of this and she actually dozed off in the navigator's chair. It was dark when we reached the area where we'd planned to camp (even though it was only 6:00 PM). We consulted our maps and found a secluded caravan park in Myalup. It is a delightful place. Very quiet. It took us some time to get organized and learn how to reconfigure the benches into beds and stow our stuff. Put here we are, actually camping in Australia, under a star-and-milky-way filled sky. I found the southern cross! As the night-time temperatures drop to around 10°C outside and a light rain falls while I compose this, we are experiencing Australia safely ensconced in our camper, surrounded by all our possessions and looking forward to tomorrow. 

Singapore to Perth

26 June 2011

We got up very early this morning. Our flight to Perth was schedules for 9:05 AM so we had to be ready to leave our hostel by 6:00 AM (if not earlier). The caretaker of the hostel was asleep on a mattress on the floor behind his desk. I hated to wake him from his snoring slumber, but I did rouse him and he did order a cab, as promised. The taxi whisked us off to the airport in no time. It seemed the only traffic at that time of morning in Singapore was other taxis, also doing some whisking of their own.

At the airport I weighed our bags again on unused check-in counter scales then we approached the Qantas check-in person and she had nothing remarkable to say about them. Our wheel-chair guy showed up and hustled us through the first station before I could mention that we had magnetic cards for the train that needed to be redeemed for a refund of SGD 20. Too late! We'll never see that money again. It's little things like these we simply have to shrug off as part of the trip. All the planning in the world can't keep oopses like these from cropping up.

No sign of the Chilean ash clouds we'd dreaded might blur our plans. The only thing about the flight worth remarking is that Razelle started sneezing – perhaps something in the blankets; perhaps a cold coming on. I had a strange sensation in my thighs I'd never experienced before, like having a blood-pressure cuff on too tightly. It went away after I walked the length of the plane's aisles several times.

As we flew over Indonesia I tried to note exactly when it was that we were crossing the equator, but I had no accurate way of telling. Eventually, Australia appeared below us. It was another of those moments when the realization that this not a fantasy, this is really happening, came over us. I had to chuckle to myself at the very thought of it.

Landing in Perth, we were met by a wheelchair assistant once again; this time a woman. She was a very efficient multi-tasker as she aided several passengers at once, including some who'd left an envelop at their seat, a young woman on crutches who preferred to hop along instead of being plopped into a wheelchair and the owner of a pair of glasses she was bringing out to them – all while pushing Razelle along. Our first contact with an Australian was with a very impressive one.

We had to declare if we were carrying any food into Australia. My unopened bags of salted and roasted pumpkin seeds passed muster, as did my peanut butter, my bullion cubes and our cans of tuna and sardines. My conscience is clear about openly bringing these into Australia.

We reached our hotel in the downtown district, the Aaron Hotel in Perth, by taxi. Naturally, I posed for a photo-op by the sign on the glass doors. 

 We got our room key and then went to the attached restaurant because they had a special on beer and pizza. Australians and their beer! It was cold and delicious and I managed to drink down the entire tall mug's worth, but it made my head swim. So we slept after that. I noticed three things about Perth that indicated that we'd arrived here in winter. There was a nip of chill in the air (as I expected there would be), sunset and dusk came quite early (it had occurred to me this would be so, but then I'd forgotten) and the deciduous trees were either bare or lightly covered with crisp brown leaves (that was not something I'd anticipated, even though I should have).

I discovered that we'd have no connectivity in the Aaron Hotel unless we paid AUD 10. A wave of depression dashed me in the face – India all over again. I had to find a solution. I went for a walk in Perth's downtown district and immediately discovered a youth hostel. Inside I asked the clerk where hostellers find free Internet. He said wherever there's a McDonald's in Australia there's free Internet. Eureka! My depression lifted as quickly as it had arrived. The nearest McDonald's was two short blocks away. There was hope here in Australia.

Singapore day 3

Being Saturday we got up a bit later than usual. We had reserved a meal at the synagogue after services, but it didn't seem right to show up just for the meal. Razelle is not comfortable with being forced to sit behind a screen or in a balcony, where the services are harder to follow. When we did arrive the Torah reading had just begun. This is my favorite part. I settled in among the men and recognized several from yesterday evening. One of them introduced me to Robin Robbins. The first thing Robin asked me was whether I'd been to his dentist. I said yes and thanked him profusely for the referral. I shook his hand heartily and told Robin he had saved our trip.

The interior of the sanctuary is large and very high. The echo factor was rather distracting and the style of prayer was Sephardic. As much as I'd wanted to be there for the services, I found that these factors made my mind wander. I wondered if this community had once been large enough to commission such a large space, or whether it was built this way because it was in keeping with what a central synagogue should look like. Razelle was able to talk with some of the women in her section, one of whom has been a member of the congregation for decades. She said that the congregation had indeed been large enough once for such a proud edifice and that during Festivals and Holy Days it still fills up, albeit with a large proportion of "ex-pats" and visitors. Chabad's involvement is appreciated, she said. They keep the numbers up.

Last night's dinner was roast beef, served in a small dining hall; today's meal was chicken, served in the larger banquet room. The Jewish community may be shrinking, as Razelle's fellow worshipper said, but it is still a thriving community. I enjoyed finding them here in Singapore, like a friendly port in a far off land. I have mixed feelings about moving on and leaving them tomorrow. Makes me want to promise to be back again some day (we'll see).

During the afternoon Razelle and I set off in search of the "other Singapore." We entered the train station and got on a train that took us to the northernmost reaches of the island. Whether because it was a weekend or because of the residential destinations it took us to, the passengers looked more casual -- their clothing was more colorful leisure-wear. They still had the same collective relaxed demeanor we found so disarming, but the formal edge of previous day was missing. We looked for nuanced differences in the way they dressed and comported themselves. These were there, but they were subtle. Razelle and I "alighted" (as the recording on the train told us to) when we reached a station as close to Malaysia as possible.

In this neighborhood Razelle and I found some lovely parks. The first had several gazebos set within zen-like landscaping, some playground equipment for children in a play area with spongy flooring, and some for adults arrayed along jogging trails. A second park had a sweeping hillside with lots of aerophyte-festooned trees, across from a public swimming pool where the bathers wore rather modest outfits (perhaps they were Moslems)

Razelle recognized the point today when she'd walked as far as she dared. Malaysia didn't seem to be much farther, just over the sweeping hillside by my reckoning, but Razelle simply stopped on the first bus-bench and bid me go on to accomplish what I'd set out to do. I walked on, double time, but Malaysia seemed to keep its distance.

I finally reached a vantage point where I could take pictures. There was an ominous warning sign on the barbed-wire fence that protected Singapore from intruders. It depicted a soldier with a rifle shooting down a second figure on the sign. Not wanting to be that second figure I shot my pictures quickly and turned back double time. I picked up some bottled drinks at the terminal's commercial center. I was soaked with perspiration from walking so fast and in the humidity of Singapore my shirt was not drying. I reached Razelle more than an hour after we parted. She had been reading a book the whole time and was waiting for me right where I left her. We boarded a bus and then took the same train back to the end of the line at the Marina, where yesterday went so wrong. As wet as my shirt still was, no one in Singapore brushed up against me only to recoil. We sat side by side or hung onto straps in a crowded train, but they all maintained a personal space you don't find in Israel. I never felt claustrophobic among Singaporeans the way I do in crowds of Israelis.

At the final stop we alighted (like butterflies? such a nice way of getting off a train) along with everyone else. This time, so much wiser, we didn't walk the distance but now rode a bus. Our all day passes entitled us to ride both. We entered the Singapore Sands Hotel and rode the elevator to the Sky Walk at the top. The view from up there at night is breathtaking.

Singapore certainly is a sparkling city/country. We saw it from end to end that day.

To cap it all off, we returned to our hostel and stopped for a late meal (by now it was 11:00 PM) at the Wendy's (yes, there is a Wendy's in Singapore) next door to the kosher Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. Razelle had a vegetable salad with a Chocolate Frosty. I had a Vanilla Frosty and a Chocolate Frosty.

We returned to our hostel spent but topped up. I double-checked the time of our flight to Perth the next day. It was earlier 'than I'd recorded in my smartphone so we spent the last moments of our long day seriously packing before getting into bed. We'd used our time in Singapore to the fullest and the next day would find us elsewhere in a farther and more distant land.

Singapore day 2

I honestly was so preoccupied with finding a dentist Thursday that a plan for Friday's sightseeing hadn't really been formulated. Many important edifices and institutions are right down the street from our hostel. I assumed that if Razelle wasn't up to anything ambitious then we could see some of these. Razelle and I went over the material I have on Singapore and soon a plan was formulated. It appealed to Razelle that we take a boat tour from the harbor. That sounded relaxing enough. We went to the "Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf" shop at the corner by the synagogue and had a decadent breakfast. This must be the only place in town that serves kosher food. Razelle had a bagel with lox and cream cheese (I kid you not!). I had their brew of the day of coffee and a slice of opera cake (I said it was a decadent breakfast). We then entered the MRT (Metro Rail Transport) station at this same corner and started what had been planned as a relaxing day, only to have it turn out to be a nightmare (in Razelle's words).

Below the streets of Singapore courses the most amazing and efficient rail system you may ever experience (with a few detractions, but hey, nothing's perfect). We wanted to get tourist passes that would be good for unlimited use all day long. We couldn't get them at our point of entry. It took two short rides before we reached a station we were told had them; true -- but not before 12:00 PM (we had to wait 15 minutes, but the window truly did snap open at precisely 12:00 PM), and then we could only buy these with cash. Once we had these magnetic cards, Singapore was open to us to explore unhindered. 

We went to the harbor for the boat ride, only to find that these were in fact international ferries to Indonesia or else massive cruise ships bound for distant lands. We went to the Marina instead to see if a boat ride was available there. A massive development project is underway there, so the present Marina Bay train station is still a bit of a walk from the Marina itself. Razelle started out with a spring in her step, but by the time we reached the Marina Sands Complex, too many steps later, she was aching and discouraged. 

It was a day of pain and friction. We were not happy campers, even though this is Singapore's premier drawing card and tourist destination with lots to explore. I could just imagine CNN's Richard Quest coming through here. But for us, the glitz was tarnished by the distances and ensuing discomfort.




Whereas I had arrived in Singapore with a pain in my tooth, Razelle was now the one in pain because she had walked beyond her limit.

We finally limped back to our hostel in time to shower and dress appropriately for Friday night services and dinner. The services and the meal are supervised and directed by Chabad. We had a wonderful evening – in complete contrast with the awful day we had experienced earlier. We met a number of people at this dinner who have become valuable contacts. We got to introduce ourselves to our fellow diners, some who are local Jewish Singaporeans, some who are here as long-term expat residents, and some who are just passing through, like us.

As idyllic as Singapore seems, I learned from conversations with some of these people where some of the flaws in the system lie. I won't elaborate here, because I have the beginnings of an interesting social science paper buzzing around in my head; after all I was told I can't keep it all straight right now. I want to do some fact checking before I write anything that might be inaccurate. Suffice it to say that Singapore is like a Bermuda onion: translucent, shiny, sweet, pink, and mildly zesty, but multiple-layered. I am curious enough to peel back some of these layers to see what Singapore is made of, but I'd hate to damage its integrity in the process.

Singapore day 1

During the wee hours of the morning, while it was still pitch dark outside, we were awakened by a massive explosion here in Singapore that reverberated off all the tall buildings in this vicinity. It was followed by a great flash of light and more deafening explosions. After all the years I've lived in the parched Negev Desert, down-range from Gaza, I'd forgotten what a thunderstorm sounds like. Being awakened like that, it took a few minutes to realize that Singapore was not under attack after all. The sound of pounding raindrops reassured me. I listened until sleep returned.

We had what passed for breakfast this morning at our hostel along with several other residents of this place. It consisted of sliced bread (a pop-up toaster was available to toast these) some margarine and jam and some hard-boiled eggs; also coffee and tea in a couple of air-pots. My tooth hurt so badly I hardly had an appetite.

We then walked across the street to Singapore's synagogue. We met the office staff, paid for Shabbat meals Friday evening and Saturday lunch and learned about the kosher restaurant on the premises.

By this morning I had collected the names of three dentists. The third name came this morning in a serendipitously well-timed phone call from a contact here in Singapore named Robin Robbins, whose name was given to me while I was at the JCC in Mumbai by the husband of Leora Joseph (who is the first cousin of Rabbi Jonathan Cohen in Netivot). [HaGadyah]. When traveling, it pays to keep such chains of contact alive. I was told that this third dentist might be a little pricier than the others but he had a very modern clinic and was a very good dentist. I called that clinic and was taken within an hour. It was close enough for Razelle and me to walk over there! A woman dentist in this office was free to see me. She was spectacular! Every step of the way she informed me of what needed to be done and why, what options I had and didn't have. She drew me a diagram and showed me microcam photos of the affected tooth while she proceeded. In short, I had root canal in Singapore. I am so relieved now not to be suffering the way I had suffered the past few days. In Beer Sheva I visited my own dentist twice in the weeks before we flew, but the symptoms weren't bad enough to intervene then. They worsened dramatically only after our trip began. Now that my tooth is OK again, we can enjoy this trip.

Razelle and I then left the dentist office (in a huge gothic office block) to cruise the mall and train station across the street. The pulse of Singapore throbs in such a place. We were caught up in it. Razelle found earrings made just for her (clip-ons – a rare find, mostly). The sales clerk talked a mile a minute, and threw in a few extras to go with the sale. We found a grocery store selling much needed items, a donut and coffee shop (just what we were looking for) and lots and lots and lots and lots of eateries that we didn't eat at but everyone else was going to town patronizing like ants at a picnic.

Razelle and I munched and sipped and watched detachedly and came to the realization that everyone we saw here was middle class or better off than that. In fact, wherever we went today we saw nothing but shiny happy people, living a comfortable life.

This evening Razelle and I had a kosher meal for the first time since our trip began. Razelle donned her new earrings and we proudly walked to the synagogue across the street to eat in their attached kosher restaurant. We had chicken broth with matzo balls for starters. Razelle ordered sizzling stir-fried beef and I had a local specialty noodle-and-beef dish. The drinks were ice cold Jaffa lime juice. We both truly enjoyed our meals, Razelle because it was meat, and I, I enjoyed it simply because it didn't hurt to eat anymore.

Mumbai to Singapore

We awoke early and packed up everything for the next leg of our journey. We have about 64 kg of baggage distributed as evenly as possible among our three duffle-like suitcases (they have a rigid rectangular lower half with wheels and a handle, but are otherwise soft and collapsible above). It was still dark out when we took them all down in the tiny elevator in two shifts, paid our bill and got into the car provided by the hotel, while the driver and the same retinue as before stowed our bags in the back of it. This time, rather that hand out gratuities all over again, the concierge of the crew said he'd take the large bills I had and he'd distribute their value among his staff afterward. They all nodded (or rather wagged their heads that special way they do) that this was best. Traffic was light and we were at the airport without delay. The streets were dry. The monsoon had held in abeyance the whole time we were in Mumbai. In fact, during the wee hours of the morning, I saw a half moon over Mumbai.

At the airport I tipped our driver with all the small bills we had left and we began the ceremonies of departure from India. I had time to weigh our bags at an empty check-out counter and deftly redistribute a few minor items so that all three of our bags weighed between 21 and 22 kg. At check-in we were given luggage tags for all our items, but we already had tags so I hung on to them as souvenirs and nothing more. Wrong! These tags were required at every station we passed through, and new ones came along as we went. An assistant showed up with a wheelchair and remained with us or lurked in the background the rest of the time.

One of these stations was a manual electric-wand body scan. Never before has my ring been detected by such a device, but today the detection device got excited every time the guard passed it over my chest where the valve is. I lifted my shirt and showed him the bump under my skin. I explained how all the parts of this gastric band work. He called another guard over to see this phenomenon for himself. They marveled at such a thing and smiled broadly at my description of my new-found health because of the weight loss this contraption has wrought. And they let me pass.

Razelle and I wanted to eat, use the bathrooms, look at the duty free shops, etc., so our attendant "allowed" us time off by ourselves, but just as I was finally figuring out how to log onto the Internet at the airport he rematerialized and announced that we had to hurry along. Razelle was in a bathroom somewhere so I told him we'd be ready as soon as she returned. But he knew exactly which bathroom she was in (he had a female accomplice apparently) and he took me over there. We were wheeled to a different part of the airport where some other wheelchair jockeys were assembling. A plan had been formulated somewhere that these passengers were to be lifted into the plane hydraulically. They/we all got lifted up into a truck that coursed among parked planes on the tarmac, stopped by our own and in fits and starts (and start-overs) finally delivered its wheelchair-bound cargo and accompanying travelers into the plane, where most of the able-bodied passengers were already seated.

This flight is the first of several Qantas flights we are booked on, all the way through to Honolulu. Hearing the Australian accent throughout this flight brought it home to us that we really are on a trip around the world. Our next destination may be Singapore, but a far more significant part of our trip will be spent listening to and interacting with rightfully proud Australians on their home continent. Their accent made me very comfortable.

We landed in Singapore at dusk. The wheelchair assistant waiting with Razelle's name on a placard brought a child-sized wheelchair. It was all very humorous. An adult-sized chair was soon found and we were whisked along briskly through a very, very modern airport to the relaxing sounds of mood music (Yanni on piano?). The first bathroom we came to had a notice on it, "Next toilet 3 minutes away." How about that! We changed some money into Singapore dollars and were matched with a taxi by an usher in white gloves. We gave the name of our hotel and our driver consulted with his dispatchers on his radio for the exact directions. We gazed in awe at the sights and happy people of Singapore from our taxi. How did this wonderland get here?

Our driver was very talkative and friendly so I asked him where I might find a dentist. He gave us explicit instructions for a clinic in a shopping mall run by a very congenial and competent dentist. I wrote it all down.

We checked into our room and then we wandered to the nearest street corner. Across the intersection we conveniently found a vegetarian restaurant. The shiny photographic menus were in Chinese, and all the diners were Chinese as well. We were told they were about to close so please hurry and order. We ordered take out so as not to inconvenience them. Razelle ordered the only western item on the menu; I ordered sweet and sour rice and faux meat. We were overcharged with the explanation that the menus were old and the prices had been raised. Instead of SGD 8.5 we paid SGD 10. I knew we were being fed a story, especially since customers continued to arrive at this "closed" establishment. We got our first lesson in this utopian Shangri-la. It may look idyllic, but we still are tourists.

Mumbai day 2

Day 2 in Mumbai. At 8:45 AM our guide, Hannah, arrived at our hotel. She was dressed in traditional Indian garb and was very charming. We instantly took a liking to her.



Our car and driver arrived after circling the block and we headed into traffic and waded through a sea of pedestrians along the roadside near the Khar train station. We circled the pigeon coop and headed toward Mumbai's southern reaches. Hannah explained many things to us about the sights we saw through the windows. I learned that the tuk-tuks we saw in our neighborhood were not allowed south of a certain point in Mumbai, only taxis. We also learned that cows are not allowed to wander freely south of that point either. She said that the cattle all have owners and if a cow wanders into lower Mumbai it is rounded up and its owner has to pay to retrieve it. We also learned that real estate in Mumbai is very expensive, so many people live in the suburbs and commute to jobs in town on the trains. This is just a small portion of what Hannah told us.

Our first stop was the public laundry. It is a vast area of basins and clothes lines where thousands of people each day have their clothes washed by a lot of men employed to do this. We marveled at the sight below us from a vantage point on a bridge.

Our next stop was the Tiferet Yisrael synagogue. It is a small synagogue run by a man named Aaron Ben-[something]. He impressed us so very much with his sincere dedication to keeping his congregation of B'nai Israel Jews in India vital and functioning. They don't manage to hold a daily minyan, but they do have Shabbat services Friday night and Saturday morning. He proudly told us of the 8 boys who took turns reading the Aliyot from the Torah each Saturday morning. He proudly opened the Ark for us to see the Torahs inside. He opened the case of one and proudly showed us how neatly the letters in it were inscribed. He proudly mentioned that there were enough prayer books for all to follow the Torah reading each week. This man devotes so much of his time and energy to this synagogue that we were moved to have met him.

Next we visited the Gandhi museum, dedicated to the life and deeds of Mahatma Gandhi. So much of what I know of this august man comes from seeing Ben Kingsley's portrayal of him in the film "Gandhi." Hannah agreed that the film and Kingsley himself brought Gandhi to life. The museum occupies a home that Gandhi lived in while he was in Mumbai. There are a series of dioramas on the top floor of this three-storey building, and a number of items used by Gandhi himself on display in the rooms of the middle storey. The lower storey contains books read by, written by or written about Gandhi. Very well presented. While we toured the house a monsoonal downpour erupted outside. We looked out the windows momentarily to see how much rain was coming down. It lasted only half an hour, but it was enough to leave puddles for Razelle to step in while wearing the Crocs she'd bought in Israel just for this purpose.

We drove on to two more synagogues, each in turn more impressive looking than the previous one, but the men who greeted us did not have that magic spark that Aaron of Tiferet Yisrael had. I remarked to Razelle that the larger the synagogue was, the less time we wanted to spend in it. The third and fanciest of them all rated a visit by Madonna, the singer and Kabala enthusiast. Her picture taken during that visit was on display there.

We went to find a place to eat lunch. Because we are keeping kosher, Hannah took us to a vegetarian restaurant called "Relish". Razelle raved about the food she ate – grilled cottage cheese with garlic and stir-fried vegetables. I had spaghetti in an Indian-spiced tomato sauce. We treated Hannah to lunch, as well. She was surprised and very appreciative. This gave us a chance to learn more about life in India in general and her life in particular. During this meal my problematic tooth hurt a lot. I think the filling has started to fail. I don't know how long I can put off getting it taken care of.

The remainder of our afternoon was devoted to seeing World Heritage Sites in the southernmost parts of Mumbai – the Victorian train station, the Taj Mahal Hotel and the Gateway to India. These are "must-see" destinations for all self-respecting tourists to Mumbai. Being self-respecting tourists ourselves, we can now say we saw them, too.





I was very impressed with the look of the Taj Mahal Hotel. It was recently reopened following repairs to the damage it sustained during last year's terror attack.

Finally, we drove to the Jewish Community Center to meet Leora Joseph and several other members of the JCC's dedicated team, two of whom are in Mumbai on an outreach program, one from Paris, France, the other from Syracuse, New York. Their names escape me, but I will find out soon. Razelle entertained them with stories of her life as a teacher in Beer Sheva. Apparently, there is a strong connection between Beer Sheva and Mumbai. Most of the people here we told where we live were aware of the place and had friends or family there.

We had supper in the Regal Enclave Hotel's own dining hall. Razelle had mushroom masala with steamed rice. I had Chinese-style tomato soup and sweet-and-sour stir fried vegetables. We shared a banana split for desert. The waiter brought us some anise seeds and sugar grains to eat as a breath freshener after our meal. I tried a few seeds and my tooth instantly was shooting with intense pain. Whoa! I may need to attend to that tooth sooner than I want.

We are in bed early. Tomorrow we must check out by 6:00 AM so we can get to our flight to Singapore on time. We had a short, intense, but well-spent time in India and it's time to sample the next country on our journey.

Mumbai day 1

Well, we made it to Mumbai. This is still sinking in for us. Only four days before we were to leave we suddenly learned that Razelle just might not be allowed out of Israel because of a prior formality she hadn’t gone through with her employer (the IDF). At Ben-Gurion airport we breezed through all the stations without this issue ever coming up. It helped that Razelle was escorted all the way through because of her "disabled" status. We got on the plane and headed for Amman. The view out the window was breath-taking. The Jordan River below us was clearly visible along with all the terrain on either side of it. As we crossed this river and entered Jordanian airspace I remarked that this trip was real. No turning back. We were going around the world. The flight was less than an hour. We flew beyond Amman to circle back and descend for the landing. We couldn't help but notice how vastly empty and under-developed the hinterland looked east of Amman. Nowhere in Israel is there a place so starkly barren. It said something about Jordan's national priorities. The airport in Amman also seemed a bit "bare-boned" in appearance. We got off the plane after most of the other passengers, walked down the ramp and got on a shuttle bus. Inside the terminal we found a wheelchair and someone nodded consent that Razelle take advantage of it. Good thing, too. Once again we found ourselves being sent to the head of each line because of this. No problems, no waiting. We were "expedited in Amman." We checked out the duty free area and decided to buy a small stuffed toy as a souvenir of Jordan.


Maayan suggested we have such a toy appear in all our photographs throughout the trip. We are doing this, per her suggestion. It looks like a cute little organ-grinder's monkey. Getting on our plane out of Amman was an ordeal for Razelle. No elevator! Instead there were two and a half steep flights of stairs to descend, another shuttle bus and another ramp to climb to get into the body of the plane. We took off from Amman in the dark and flew through the night. We reached Mumbai by 4:15 A.M. local time and again got priority treatment because of Razelle's status. Our hotel (the Regal Enclave on 4th Road in Khar West) was supposed to send a car to collect us, but there was no sign (no hand-held placard) of it, when we exited the airport into the humid air outside the terminal building. Razelle's wheelchair attendant stayed with us until that was resolved. India from this moment forward is going to be remembered as the land of the gratuity [tip]. The money changer wouldn't change the large denomination rupee bills we brought with us into smaller ones. I had to buy some bottled water to get bills that were small enough to hand out left and right to our ever-helpful wheelchair attendant, to the expeditious shuttle driver, to the eager un-packer of our shuttle at the hotel and to the energetic porter who brought the bags up to our room. Another enterprising staff member came afterwards to set up our air-conditioner and show us how to use our room safe and tell us what our combination would be. He also tarried overlong for a tip, but by now I had run out of the small bills I had distributed like party favors to everyone else. I apologized to him and he left, embarrassed by the awkwardness of the moment.

We rested in our room for a couple of hours until it was time for breakfast. We came down from our room at 7:30 on the dot. The dining room staff hopped into serving mode and made an omelet and toast for Razelle, poured her coffee, brought me tea in milk and poured us orange juice. I chose to eat two different kinds of semolina. One was sweet and plain; the other was lightly salted and seasoned with some peppery and musty herbs and spices. I had seconds of this fancy farina. None of the other hotel's guests materialized the whole time we were dining. We had the entire dining-room staff to ourselves. They watched every fork-and-spoonful of food we ate so that they could clear away the empty plate without delay. Razelle had to literally hold onto her plate to prevent its removal once because she was waiting for a second piece of toast. The tall-hatted toast and omelet chef looked crest-fallen when I declined to have an omelet, thereby denying him the opportunity to demonstrate his skills. We were a little embarrassed by all this attention. Had we misunderstood what time breakfast was served and come down too early? I asked, "Where are all the other guests?" The response was a wordless gesture of tilted head with cheek pressed against hands joined to represent a pillow. (Everyone else was still abed).

Fully fed and feted, Razelle and I returned to our room. I tried to surf the net but found that the signal could only be unblocked for a not-so-small fee (good for only 24 hours, but renewable). With neither wireless nor data signal available to me, I couldn't access anything sent to me earlier by email. And I couldn't update my blog. I needed to make an important call to the Jewish Community Centre to confirm our interest in being guided tomorrow (21 June) around the historic lower end of Mumbai, with special emphasis on Jewish landmarks. I went through some printed notes I had and found a useful number and made the call. Everything is now set for a day tour of Mumbai's best tomorrow, so I left Razelle in the room to relax and set forth on foot to size up the neighborhood (and search for lunch – either dining out or carrying in).

I was told by the helpful desk clerks that a vegetarian restaurant was a short walk away. I went to find it. The humidity outside is so thick that leaving the air-conditioned hotel caused my glasses to fog up and not clear for several minutes. I took in Mumbai's sounds and smells and sultriness while I waited for my sight to return. Little tuk-tuk cabs noisily putted by, honking their horns as often as needed to avoid each other. A pleasant fragrance of slow-burning exotic wood was in the air from food stands down at the corner where I turned to find the restaurant I was told about. I noted that most of the pedestrians walked in the street rather than on the sidewalk (a misnamed entity in this neighborhood). I tried to get a feel for the flow of vehicular traffic but on the side street I was on traffic knew no pattern. 

At the corner was the landmark that would serve me well in homing in on my hotel when I was done exploring: a huge pigeon coop in the middle of the intersection bursting with pigeons fed by members of a Krishna sect.









I passed the train station (Khar Station) and noted the crowd and the large red buses. It reminded me of scenes out of movies representing the historic Raj period of British rule. After this initial foray into the tight little streets of these quarters of Mumbai I returned to the hotel (turning right at the aforementioned pigeon coop) with some packets of soup mix, a supply of bottled water and a small bunch of bananas. These cost 125 rupees in total (about US$ 3). We dined well in our room.

Later in the day I went out again, this time in the opposite direction along broad boulevards with flowing traffic that was better organized but still very noisy with horn-honking and putt-putting. I passed large academies and reached a more modern looking train station. On one street I found a large assemblage of yellow school buses being watched over by a policeman wielding a bamboo truncheon. I looked into the shade trees to identify the ones I could. High over head I saw coconuts. I image they fall when ripe, so I moved on.

A solitary cow was munching on the plants atop the low wall of the median strip so I took her picture as traffic whizzed passed her. Finally, as I circled back, I once again located the pigeon coop and returned to the hotel, with a new supply of bottled water.

To complete our experience this first day in Mumbai, Razelle and I took a tuk-tuk after dark to a restaurant tomorrow's guide especially called us to recommend. I'd already watched how they drive but not yet been driven in one. I knew what to expect. Razelle, however, was in for the ride of her life. Her hands ached from holding onto the bar in front of her as our driver deftly weaved and dodged into and out of lanes that only he perceived, seemingly heedless of oncoming hazards. He had a vague idea where to take us but didn't know for sure. He spoke no English. He encouraged us with words I didn't understand to ask others caught in the same traffic jam in similar tuk-tuks where our sought-after restaurant might be. Finally a motorcyclist who was jammed up beside us explained to our driver where to go and by the sideways wagging of our driver's head we understood that he now understood how to get us there. He dropped us off in a huge crowd of homebound beachgoers near the Ramada Hotel, nowhere near our stated destination. We paid our fare and piled out as new passengers piled in. We shrugged and decided to just eat at the Ramada. This is one of those hotels globetrotting businessmen eat in. We certainly qualified as globe trotters by now so we trotted in. The same attention by wait-staff met us inside. The food was good. I had a vegetarian rice dish, Razelle had a vegetarian pizza with lots of toppings. It cost a great deal more that lunch had.

We took a taxi back to our hotel. The turbaned doorman found a tariff sheet so we knew exactly what to pay our taxi driver. He knew about where we were staying but not quite. Because I'd walked the streets earlier I recognized where we were when we were close. I directed him to the pigeon coop, we turned left and went home to our hotel.

All in all, it was an eventful day in Mumbai.