When we arrived at Ben Gurion Airport today, it took forever for our luggage, and then there were no taxis because there is a war between the companies, and then a traffic jam all the way home.  I kept thinking of how I was taught to pronounce “Hermes” – air-mess.  But then I remembered yesterday’s Newark experience – when after hours of delay from traffic jams from Boston we finally got to the Marriot, dropped off our luggage, and returned the rented car. 

That’s when the trouble began.  From the rental returns to the shuttle for the bus stop was a long undesignated way, and when we got to the stop, there were lots of shuttles but not one for us, so I started calling the number we were given.  Eventually a ratty looking car came for us, and brought us to the hotel – but even though we hadn’t eaten I was ready to give up for the night.  But Ezi discovered an app to order dinner. 

But the app wasn’t working and I was persuaded to try to speak with the administration about it. 

But the administration knew nothing about the app.  Neither did the dining room.  So I gave up and we had dinner in the restaurant, and ran back to our room to get ready to fly in the morning.

I needed a wheelchair because my sciatica was acting up, and a lovely lady took me to a lounge to wait for our flight, reminding me that tipping is encouraged.

She promised to return to get me to the plane, but when the time grew near and she didn’t appear, we raced to the gate ourselves.

Once aboard the flight I began to realize that we were not going to have the same glorious food we had on the way to the US, nor would the other services be of the same quality. 

So by the time we arrived at Ben Gurion, I was a plucked chicken, with no patience for any more.  Newark was worse.