There are always many stories to tell about traveling around Israel, but all the Saturday stories end with a traffic jam.   We left Rosh Pinna early, forgoing a final dip in the pool, but making sure we didn’t miss the misty view of Syria from Amuka

that may have been a mistake because on the way back we listened to Google for some reason.  it suggested a short cut through Dalit Al Karmel, and we were thrilled.  We love going through the forests and then the town.  But then I began to suspect something strange.  On the way there were more than the usual number of stands for Druze pita, and some of them had numerous cars parked all around.  Still, the trees and the wonderful view urged us on.

But when we reached the entrance to Dalit Al Karmel we were greeted by police cars and a few yellow-vested men, who welcomed us and then said,  “Sorry. but we’re a red village, and no one is allowed in.”  We wished them good health and turned the car around to join a spectacular row of cars inching their way back to the main highway.  

So instead of 2 hours we spent 5 on the way home, and our plans for resting the evening before Ezi’s visit to the hospital were shot.