Eilat continued

The rest of the week was significantly less eventful. Thursday we went to Coral Beach, an Israeli National Park. We rented snorkeling gear for the afternoon and enjoyed swimming with fish of every size shape and color and swimming next to the coral reef. That night we made our dinner in the apartment: hot dogs on white bread with tomato paste that we mistook for ketchup when we saw it in the grocery store and canned peas. The worst dinner we've eaten this semester by far. In fact it was so bad that half way into the meal we were all overcome by laughter. It didn't stop us from eating every last hot dog and all of the canned peas. Lydia and I have Jake and Hilary to thank for finishing the latter.
On Friday we took our books down to the beach closest to our apartment and spent the overcast afternoon reading. The book of the week was The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I brought the first two books of the series along on the trip, and as I finished them I handed them off to Hilary who in turn handed them off to Lydia. I ended up buying the third book in the series, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, at a beachside bookstore so that on all three of us were reading one of the books in the series as we sat on the beach that day. Finding a place to sit on the beach was an experience. We tried several times to join the other sunbathers on the lounge chairs that were set up on every inch of available sand, but each time we sat down, a beach bouncer would approach us and ask for 20 shekels. Eventually we figured out that the free seating was the rocky shore just before the water, just enough room to stretch our legs out and touch our toes to the waves.
Saturday was more of the same but the weather was delightful. I spent at least an hour swimming down the coast and back again. The water was saltier than the ocean at home. I swam effortlessly and could float on my back with my face fully above the water. If I closed my eyes, I could almost believe I was floating in zero gravity, that the sky was down and the water was up. That evening we had McDonalds for dinner, a patriotic gesture, and walked to The Ice Mall, a shopping center constructed around an ice rink on which amateur figure skaters performed for the shoppers at regular intervals. We ran our fingers over the expensive merchandise, sipped on overpriced cappuccinos that kept us from peaceful sleep that night, and watched the figure skating performance with both amusement and anxiety. I had never appreciated the perfection of Olympic figure skating until then.
Sunday was our travel day back to Jerusalem. We spent half of it napping on park benches and the other half napping on the public bus. Somehow, and despite a directionally challenged deaf taxi driver, we made it to Ecce Homo, a convent in the Old City where we spent the next week.
And so it was that March began.