Corporate Rewards Programs: Not All Created Equal
My husband came home with a code for
Hood cottage cheese rewards after a trip to Stop and Shop last week, which is right about when I discovered that the corporate rewards world had hit oversaturation.
When I first began to collect airline points, shortly after moving to Cambridge in 2005, I set a goal for myself: I would know I was doing a savvy job juggling points programs if I could fly for free once a year. Alternating
Aeroplan miles,
Aadvantage points and Bank of America rewards points, I have basically made that goal and flown for free or almost free four times. We also now have enough points for at least one free flight in the winter or spring.
Once upon a time, the rewards program world was a small one: airlines, credit cards, and that was about it. In Toronto, my father would make sure to pay Canadian Tire (like a smaller Home Depot) in cash so he could get his Canadian Tire money - literally, fake money that you could use at the store. These programs were particularly valuable to us, and I learned from him that it made sense to consider where you were buying, how you were paying, etc. so you could work all the angles and get the most rewards. If only all rewards programs that later sprang up were that straightforward and easy to use.
I got into survey-based incentive programs early (I've been doing
e-Rewards for almost five years). When I joined, it was sponsored by Aadvantage, and I once got 1000 Aadvantage miles from them for the many surveys I had taken. A year or so later, a $50 gift card to Starbucks showed up in the mail. I was following, of course, the cardinal rule of rewards programs: they are only really valuable if you can use them to get things for free that you would have paid money for otherwise. Since I make it my goal to underspend my coffee budget and put the excess right into savings, and since I was never intending to miss my grandmother's 75th birthday, both rewards directly saved me money. There are many other programs whose email updates I've received, or who I've tried out, and none have delivered the way e-Rewards has.
Not everyone is such a fan, though, including me two years later. They only gave out Starbucks gift cards for a really short time and they discontinued their partnership with American Airlines a while back. I now get rewards and don't know what to use them for. I've got too much credit to allow to expire, so I get magazine subscriptions, fill out the occasional survey and hope for better rewards in the future. But the time I spend on a site like theirs is directly proportional to the value I expect to get out of it going forward; in the case of e-Rewards these days, I'd say that both of those are "almost none."
You can't always tell at first if a rewards program will be good for you. I was passing along Coke points for
My Coke Rewards to my brother-in-law for the longest time before we decided we could probably use it to our advantage. I admit, I have never been an early adopter, so though my sister-in-law sent me an invitation to
Swagbucks in November '08, I didn't sign up until January 2010. Swagbucks seems to me to be in the same category as MyPoints, where the best benefits come to those who buy things and "participate" in "special offers" - read: buy things - but I regret not signing up 14 months earlier for Swagbucks. One of my favorite mommy bloggers,
Chief Family Officer, calls it her favorite way to make free money, and I have come to agree since it only takes me 2ish months of >1 minute a day of investment and I get a $5 Amazon gift card effectively for free. Since the advent of Amazon's "Subscribe and Save," I've been buying certain groceries online, and this knocks down the price. (In one memorable transaction, I got 48 Timothy's K-cups for $2.21.) But I have no use for MyPoints. I am pretty sure I've been a member for longer, but I have never received a tangible benefit.
We all have a calculus of how much finagling and tracking is worth our time. I am of the mindset that if you wait to buy something until you absolutely need it, you'll probably pay too much. This has its reasonable limits - such as non-pregnant people buying maternity clothes - but is certainly true for things that one will use eventually, like toothpaste and toilet paper. If you're careful with coupons and savvy about ExtraBucks, you can get these items for a fraction of their original price (and sometimes even "make money" in the form of ExtraBucks) when you buy these things at CVS. I avoid making myself crazy, though, by sticking to one store, so I ignore Walgreens' parallel Register Rewards program. There are normal human limits.
It's a lot easier in this day and age to stretch a buck. Coming from Canada, where there are fewer consumers and less attractive programs, I am always appreciative of the ease of finding good sales, cheap shipping, coupons and coupon codes, and online shopping portals. (I use
Ebates and Bank of America's Add it Up, though I prefer
Ebates.) I like feeling like my loyalty and patronage are rewarded, that I am saving money I might otherwise have spent, and that I am doing my utmost to keep spending down so I can build a nest egg for the future. The road to financial security seems to sometimes be filled with useless rewards programs, and I occasionally think that the energy I put into something (like the Tropicana rewards program) has been completely wasted.
The fundamental theorem of corporate rewards programs seems to be simple: Their goal is to get you to spend more money than you initially intended, a larger fraction of your shopping budget there than elsewhere, and to get you to "come in" (in-store or online) for something cheap and wind up buying something expensive as well.
But who is to say that any of this is not to your advantage?
The math is simple. If:
Benefit to you > cost to you (especially if you would have spent the money anyways,)
Then:
It is worth your time.
That being said, there is some saying about needing to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince, so I recently signed up for Hood Cottage Cheese rewards and Pampers Gift to Grow (since I'm hoping to have a lot of points before the baby is born so that we can reduce our inevitable spending by using rewards.) Though I ought to spend the rest of the evening doing work, my husband just walked into the apartment with my new issue of Conde Nast Traveler, to which I got a free subscription through e-Rewards. On the cover? A text box advertising "How to Save a Bundle: 15 Magic Web Sites."
I suppose I'll kiss a few more frogs.
Labels: finance, travel
I wrote the following travel piece, which appears in the
most recent issue of Hadassah Magazine:
Downtown Toronto’s massive skyscrapers and bustling streets give way to miles of sleepy suburbs to the north. The Canadian city’s unique flavor is found in its multiculturalism—dozens of languages can be heard on street corners—and it is usually only a short drive from one immigrant enclave to another.
Though many of Toronto’s Jews didn’t arrive in a city that warmly welcomed newcomers, their hard work and influence contributed to making Toronto the ethnic haven—and worldwide capital of business and culture—that it has become.
See
here for the rest (click on "current issue", then scroll down until you see my name.)
Labels: travel
Ari's first day in Israel, and Aliza's major moron moment
My first two days in Israel were spent in Givat Shmuel, Tel Aviv, and Jerusalem. Since trips to Israel (and my life in general) are often odes to really good food, I will note that Monday night, Yoel and I ate at
Caffit, where I had Fettucine Rosa. I've always liked Caffit's pastas, ever since my year in Israel, and this one really hit the spot. I also liked their customer service, in that they did not complain about me ordering one pasta with a different sauce, beyond the menu combinations.
Monday night was Burger's Bar in Givat Shmuel, where I am often overwhelmed by choice. What if I ask for the wrong sauce? Then everything will be ruined! (My sandwich was awesome.)
On Tuesday night, I had what is now my fifth pretty-much-sleepless-night because I got to sleep late, woke up every 1/2 hour, and then ended up getting up 15 minutes early because I just could not sleep because I didn't want to be late to the cab to take me to the airport, even though I already knew that Ari's flight left Heathrow 30 min. late.
(For those of you not keeping track, Sara's and Aliza's 3 sleepless nights were:
Monday, June 22 - Aer Lingus didn't turn off the lights on an overnight flight to Dublin;
Thursday, June 25 - Harder to sleep on an overnight bus to Seville than you'd think;
Wednesday, July 1 - Sara and I didn't know to reserve sleeper seats on the train to Marrakech, so we were up all night in the train compartment.
I also added to that Sunday, July 5, when Iberia didn't turn off the lights on the overnight flight to Tel Aviv.)
I danced the dance of joy at the airport, where the coffee place was willing to put SOY in my cafe hafuch and give me salad dressing for the salad I brought with me, then waited for Ari. After he came and at a snack of his own, we wended our way to Jerusalem the super slow Nesher taxi way. (These shared taxis don't leave until there are 10 passengers, so we sat in the heat waiting a while.)
Our only formal activity yesterday was a
tour of Ir David, suggested by Melanie, with whom Aviva and I went to the beach on Tuesday. The tour takes you through the ongoing excavations of King David's ancient city and shares its political and military significance over time. Then you get to walk through King Hezekiah's water tunnel. The thrilling part is that the excavations are ongoing so a lot of what we've seen has only been discovered in the last 5 years. To see the edges of the Shiloach pool and hear speculation as to where in the vicinity of the Gihon spring King Solomon was inaugurated pique my curiosity as a Bible teacher.
I also had my major moron moment. I have been super careful packing liquids and gels for travel, and have had no real shampoo or body wash disasters up till now. Due to a dislike of my current sunscreen, I had Ari bring a spray sunscreen bottle, which we took with us to Ir David. I didn't even think to double-ziploc it. Consequently, as far as we can tell:
a. The lid came off.
b. I must have accidentally depressed the spray button continously.
c. My purse oozed with sunscreen.
d. The bottle was emptied.
e. The snacks in my purse had to be tossed.
f. The pens in my purse came into contact with the sunscreen and stained my skirt, which will need industrial cleaning to be wearable again.
g. My cellphone is about as functional as a paperweight.
h. My purse's replacement date has been moved up to last night.
Sara and I always said that you don't bring things on vacation if you would be sad to return home without them. I feel really fortunate that the passports and digital camera were not in the purse at the time of the sunscreen explosion. Otherwise, what is gone is gone, but replaceable. In the case of my purse, already been replaced. Ari and I moved the SIM card to his phone, and I changed before dinner.
Ari and I had a truly spectacular meal at
El Gaucho. We have not done something so fancy since Le Marais in Sept. '07. It feels nice to know that kosher dining out need not be mediocre, as it often is in Brookline, and I was alternately thrilled by the fact that they gave us an amuse bouche, the fact that there were items on the menu that I had never had before, the fact that the meat was excellent and well-cooked, and the fact that service was excellent. We give El Gaucho four thumbs up.
Strolling around Machane Yehuda, Ari got complimented for being the husband willing to stand around in the women's clothing store while his wife tried on skirts. All else is well in Jerusalem.
Portugal photos are online,
here and
here. It take a while, so more photos will be online eventually, and I still do hope to blog about the final days in Marrakech.
Labels: travel
For mature audiences only: Hammam in Marrakesh
Sara and I took an overnight train to Marrakesh on Wednesday night, arriving in Marrakesh midday on Thursday. We spent the first day wandering the shuks, finding the central Place Jemaa el Fna and then heading to the mellah to see the shul and the cemetary. We discovered a lot about the Marrakech Jewish community, which I will blog later.
On Friday, our most exciting event was the visit to the Hammams. Hammams are gender-segregated bathhouses. Friday is the day off for many people, so the one we went to was quite crowded. The entire experience is like an immersion into Moroccan culture and sociology. It's only about 10 dh to enter, but through the hostel we paid 100 dh ($12.50ish) for the entire experience. One of the women who works at the hostel took us, bought the necessary supplies including an olive-oil based soap and exfoliating mitts, and brought us to the Hammam. After she paid the entrance fee, we went into the hammam. I am deeply squeamish, so it was a blessing in disguise that I was not wearing my glasses (one cannot usefully wear glasses in a sauna-like environment.) Given how many topless and entirely au naturel women were present, it was much easier not to be able to see. Thus, if you'd like a report as to how many women sported full bikini waxes, I am sorry that I don't have that information.
The hammam experience is centered around bathing: it comes from a time and a place where people didn't have running water in their homes. Even now, some people who live in the medina still don't. The full experience, though, includes a massage and what my people call "the shvitz". After a week and a half on the road, we finally felt clean, and after a tense couple of days in Fez, we also felt very relaxed. It was an awesome pre-Shabbat experience.
Labels: travel
Sara´s and Aliza´s trip goals: a review
Sara and I declared the following ten goals for our trip. In no particular order:
1. Avoid getting hit by a car.
In Morocco, where there are no traffic laws, and Gibraltar, where the streets are too narrow, this goal is harder to accomplish than it appears.2. Avoid being hit by a moped or motorized bicycle.
See above: Really high numbers of small vehicles driven by people who appear to be stunt drivers. 3. Avoid falling off a Moorish castle.
This speaks to my ¨Lisbon, day one¨ post.4. Avoid being bitten by a macaque monkey.
This, and the one above, were most relevant on the rock of Gibraltar. But avoiding being bitten by a monkey is good advice anywhere.5. Avoid being grabbed by an unemployed Fassi man.
Sara would like me to point out that for the men to which this applies, grabbing tourists and extracting money is their employment.6. Avoid being hit by a train.
If you wish to accomplish this objective, advise your travelling companion not to drop her train ticket on the tracks.7. Avoid getting on the wrong train at 3 a.m.
Like #4, this is good advice any time of day.8. Avoid being held up in an alleyway by Fassi men with knives.
This is just us being paranoid.9. Avoid falling in love with, and marrying, a Moroccan man who is only in it for your Green Card.
This was Sara´s grandmother´s contribution to the list. I would like to point out that there was a Berber carpet seller in Chefchaouen who was quite determined to convince Sara to toss this one right off the list.10. Avoid dying in an otherwise unspecified manner.
This falls into the category of ¨stating the obvious¨.I am now in Madrid and fully aware that I have not yet blogged the awesomeness that was Marrakech. Sara and I will put up pics and discuss later, but for now, I will just articulate the following two deeply American words: Mission accomplished.
Labels: travel
Night with Max
Wednesday night, Sara and I found the legtimately Kosher place in Fez, which is at the Centre Maimonide (the JCC, essentially). We were quite amused at how small the Jewish world is: while there, we met a family from Manhattan whose son goes to BU and has worked with my brother-in-law Dani. The Amzallags invited us to join them for dinner, so we had Kosher food and good company. There were also some other Jewish guys around, including someone from Cambridge. The guys walked us to the train, where we took a mildly lengthy and uncomfortable train to Marrakech; which we like much more. Despite the fact that the men on the train moved to make us more comfortable (one even slept on the luggage rack so we could stretch out...), we found that we were not sad to leave Fez behind for the relative gentility of Maraakachis.
Labels: travel
Sara found
this woman's blog, where she writes of buying something from the guy we saw yesterday. She paid 700 euro for original Kabbalah doors over a year ago, and the guy in the site who sold them to her is the same one who showed us those doors yesterday.
Sara's purchase, upon inspection, had massive typos in the 10 dibrot; she left it behind.
We're glad we're not in Fez anymore.
Labels: travel
Chefchaouen, Morocco: I flunked bribery AND negotiation
When you are in a taxi hurtling around mountainous curves at 60+ k/h with a driver listening to the Koran on a cassette player, you have two choices:
1. Hold on to the "Jesus" handle and pray that you don't die,
or
2. Go with the flow - you're only in Morocco once.
I am sad to say Sara and I were in the latter category as we literally sped away from the border with a man who spoke no English and barely any French.
Our inauspicious start to our time in Morocco began when we read in the guidebook on the (gorgeous, air-conditioned) ferry that if you leave some money in your passport, you will go through more quickly at the border. So we each put 2 USD in our passports, but when we got to the border, we were first shepherded into a health department line, to check if we had swine flu.
As I am sure you have guessed by now, we inadvertently bribed the guys who took our temperatures. But we didn't have the flu, and we got into Morocco. And perhaps because we said the Wayfarer's Prayer, we made it to Chefchaouen in one piece.
We were told it was quiet and picturesque. Everything in Morocco is harsh and sketchy at first: The hot summer's day, the streets without street signs, the dirty flies buzzing on the fruit in the shops, and the men who leer. But eventually, we got accustomed to Chefchaouen. It has beautiful construction, including blue-washed walls. The shopkeepers are pushy but friendly, and on day two I made a purchase of two pairs of earrings. The guy started at 350 dh ($44), so I countered with 250dh ($31). He made a half-offer of 300, which I rejected, and then he caved. The rule in Morocco is that if the negotiating is done in about 3 minutes, it is because you got a bad deal and offered to pay too much. Another hint: He threw in a "free" hamsa. Sara determined that we had grossly overpaid, and has banned me from haggling.
Chefchaouen, especially the pretty lake where the women do their washing and the lovely casbah and the awesome coffee, grew on me a lot. I thought it was such a sleepy town at first, but it turns out everyone in town is out and about in the Casbah square from 9pm - 11pm. Even the three year olds. Thank you to Sara's random friends who insisted we go there.
We arrived in Fez today, and following Thumper's mother's principle: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything. I will ask the Facebook universe only one question, courtesy of Sara: How do you say in Arabic "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
Labels: travel
The Jews of Gibraltar
Sara and I were walking up the street in Gibraltar, minding our own business and thinking we already had Shabbat plans pre-arranged weeks earlier when we spotted obviously frum women in obvious sheitels, so we popped into their jewelery store with an incredibly Jewish name to ask them if the island had an eruv (complicated Jewish ritual construction that allows us to carry things outside the home on the Sabbath.)
They said yes, and we went along in search of kosher meat. But the restaurant whose address we had was defunct, so we went back to their store to ask them where there was a kosher restaurant. Mrs. B (as I will call her) immediately asked us about our Shabbat plans, and we told her that we were eating with Mr. L. She looked concerned and said he had been recently ill, and we should check to see if our Shabbat plans were still on. Then she gave us her phone and told us to call him (we left a message) and told us that if it fell through, we should go to her for the meal. She sent us up to Mr. L.'s son-in-law's restaurant, where we got yummy pasta, and rearranged our Shabbat plans. Mr. L.'s son-in-law confirmed that he was in the hospital, then called Mrs. B and her husband's stores alternetely until he got in touch with one of them. Then this woman, her sister and her baby walked into the store to eat and jumped into the swing of things. Their mom, Mrs. H, had been in touch with Mr. L's wife and was prepared to have us for lunch. Fortunately, even in a religious Jewish community, we look foreign enough for people to take pity on us.
We observed that the Jewish community is both very English and very Sfardi. They read Hamodia and send their children to Yeshiva in Gateshead (note: the rest of this paragraph will contain many cultural references. I won't explain them all while pounding away on a Moroccan computer. I'll leave it to commenters to explain the significance of various things.) The women wear sheitels and the men black hats (v. Ashkenaz) but they speak Spanish and have this really awesome custom to eat food after Kiddush and before Motzi in order to say more brachot.
Sociologically, they are a really interesting bunch. Lots of kids in small but well-organized apartments; they seem to marry young, be fruitful and multiply. They have WAY more than their fair share of seriously beautiful women and in true Moroccan style, they are all very well-put together.
Both couples served kind of different meals than we were used to - first course always contained a protein and many different small salads. The main course was probably less substantial and less carby than what might be served at a North American Shabbat table. We were well-fed in Gibraltar.
I have more to say, perhaps later...
Labels: travel
Today I walked past a Starbucks without going in and other small Portuguese miracles
Today we headed down to Belem, a seaside area of the city with gardens, museums and monuments. We saw the Padrão dos Descobrimentos, a monument to Portugal's many discoveries, at which my hat kept blowing off because the wind was so strong. We found Ben and Jerry's (which is Kosher even here) and sat outside the
Tower of Belem, which is a famous and historic tower, but it cost 3 euro to go in, so we just sat outside. I'm more of a "spend money on coffee" kind of girl.
Which is why we next walked past Starbucks and into some cute Portuguese cafe for a cappucino. Over a year ago, Sara made me promise that I'd actually experience Portugal, and not just spend my time and money in an American coffeehouse. It is quite the experience to stand and sip a cappucino at the bar. And since I'm blogging about things one never sees in America, the cafe had a cigarette vending machine.
Sara and I hit our biggest score at the Museu Nacional dos Coches, which was free because we're students. The museum is full of coaches, Berlins, carriages, and other modes of transport used in the last six or so centuries. Immediately before we walked in, a busload of middle-aged American tourists had entered along with their tour guide. Consequently, we got a free guided tour of the museum simply by surreptitiously following them. The coolest part was seeing the stagecoach in which King Carlos I was riding in 1908 when he and his eldest son were assassinated. You can see bullet holes on the coach from where stray bullets missed.
Lisbon is not the place for the shopper in me, in terms of its signature souvenirs. It's famous for its cork products, but excuse me for not wanting a cork purse. Ditto on embroidery. I am sorry to say that the only real shopping I've done has been at El Cortes Ingles, which was a very Western and Macy's like department store, if Macy's had a full food court and supermarket in the basement. I bought a cute blue glasses case.
Labels: travel
Portugal, day 1
Lisbon deeply wants to be liked. It's infinitely walkable, as long as you like winding cobblestone paths and steep stairways that get slick when wet. It's got charming architecture, which is all about Roman arches and columns, bright colors and textured tiles. And every few blocks is some kind square, some small and some vast with statues and fountains.
Day #1 was the walking day. Sara and I are staying right downtown in the city centre, so we could easily walk to Praca do Comercio, Praca do Munipio and all along the river Tajus. You can tell it's a seaside kind of town because every shop along the waterfront sells dried fish and every restaurant advertises a grilled sardine special.
The touring day concluded with a trek up and around a medieval castle called Castelo do Sao Jorge. It's mostly historic and original, which in modern American parlance means "lawsuit waiting to happen". I noted to Sara that in America its edges, walls and walkways would have been enhanced to keep morons from falling off. Sara wisely advised me to avoid being a moron.
Labels: travel
San Francisco, day 7: Poof-worthy conduct
When Ari and I got to the airport on Saturday night, we noticed going through the security line that they had one of those newfangled machines that puffs air at you in an attempt to detect bomb-residue or something.
I had seen them before in action at Heathrow in London and the Buffalo, NY airport, but this one wasn't really in use - we were in line for 15 min and we didn't see anyone go through it.
What follows is a rough transcript of what happened when Ari and I got to the front of the line:
Security gal to me: Ma'am, can you come this way please?
Security gal to security dude, re: Ari: Should we screen him, too?
Security dude to security gal: No.
Security dude to Ari: Can you remove your beanie, please?
Ari removes kippah.
Aliza giggles while being puffed with air.
Ari to me, in Hebrew: They're screening you because of your hat.
Me: So?
Ari: You know what I call that?
Me: What?
Ari: Racial profiling.
All I can say is that if airport security can't differentiate between Orthodox Jews and Islamist terrorists, or for that matter, between
Sikhs and Islamist terrorists, what's the point in racial profiling? Pacifist Sikhs are about as likely to blow up planes as 80-something grandmas in Arizona.
Doesn't that make you sleep better at night?
Labels: politics, travel
Aliza's trip, part 2 – More of the same, only elsewhere, plus Tel Aviv adventures and the worst restaurant ever
The flight to Israel was short, and would have been nice had I slept much over an hour. Instead, I watched Armageddon ("Get off the nuclear warhead!") When the plane landed, I bought an expensive SIM card (I was too tired to care what it cost….) and got in a sherut to J-lem. Woke Shawn and Yaffa up, since they figured I'd be arriving at 8 and I got there at 7. Couldn't call, cuz the cell wasn't yet working. Then I took a 3 hour nap (planned on two, thank goodness Yaffa woke me or I might be sleeping still) and called all the people I still am in touch with in Israel. Then I walked to Emek and graded papers while sipping a coffee. Quoth my father when I called him "how is that different than when you're in Cambridge?" Also wrote postcards to small children who cannot read and grandparents. Had to go to a second coffee shop in order to get online. Said coffee shop was creatively named "Coffee Shop". Then had the official dinner with Shifra and Dani and Avi in Burger Bar, where, due to communication problems with the server, ended up having steak salad with mayo, which was shockingly yummy. After Avi and I left Shif and Dani, Avi's need for a bathroom ever 6.3 seconds took us to a majorly sketchy mall which had not one, but two!, competing sex shops in the basement. Hooray for the capitalist market driving down prices for the consumer.
Then, as per usual, watched DVDs in bed.
Tuesday was a very different sort of day. Avi and I met at Holy Bagel for breakfast, where a very great tragedy ensued when Avi forgot to get his frequent bagel-eater card stamped. Then, we took a bus to Tel Aviv (to the Tachnat harakevet, not the extremely sketchy tachana merkazit) and tried to be wise Israelis and decode all the bus signs and maps. Of course, this led to us taking a bus in the wrong direction, because with my 2 university degrees and our 95th percentile SAT scores, neither of us thought to ask the driver of the 27 if we were going in the right direction. Fortunately, we were soon on our way to the Bet Hatzfutzot on the Tel Aviv U campus, which is absolutely stunning. Avi and I took pictures with lush greenery, palm trees, etc. and then found a bus to take us to Allenby, where the Nachalat Binyamin craft show was going on. Avi and I went to this really clean and nice shwarma place, where I got schnitzel with a side of the classic Israeli "couscous and random vegetable mush". Ran into a random coworker, bought presents for Rachs and G and my small cousins, showed Avi all the things I wanted him to buy for me, etc. Then we caught a bus back to the tachana (train station) and ran to J-lem to meet Yoel at 5. He, of course, showed up at 6. In the meanwhile, we went to every store in the mall and I bought NML a very inexpensive surprise.
Dinner was a comedy of errors – we walked out of the Tachana, up aggripas to a restaurant that seemed nice, but that Yoel declared overpriced (note: we got steak for less than $20 a person). Then, a large group of preteen boys overtook the upper level. Then, a large office group overtook the main seating area. Soon, it was just us along one side after some other people left. Then the management started setting up our side of the restaurant for another group. Soon, they came and asked if we were done. We weren't. Then they came back and offered us the bill. This being Israel, they told us relatively tactlessly that they needed us to leave. (Although there was a table at the other side of the restaurant we could use if we wanted tea.) We said no thanks, and left a minimal tip. Then Yoel decided it was scandalacious that I hadn't been to the Kotel (Galinda's word, not Yoel's) and we headed off. When we got there, I went to daven. When I was done, I had time to make 4 different phone calls before Avi and Yoel returned, lending credence to my theory that they were composing their own prayers, or possibly building their own chairs out of wood chips. Then we headed back out the way we came, through the deserted Muslim quarter. When Avi opined that he wouldn't want to be there without someone carrying a gun (I had decided that an M-16 goes well with my shoes) Yoel waxed eloquent about the comparative safety of the Muslim quarter, and how the old city had more security cameras per square metre than anywhere else, and how the only terrorist incidents there tended to be perpetrated by outsiders, and how the local Arabs only want to eke out a living. Then we took pretty pictures of the gate with its mezuzah, as a visual aid for my students when we study Rashi's commentary on Deut 6:9.
After Yoel left, some singing and dancing messianic Chabadnik lunatics started promising miracles, eternal salvation, etc. At the bus stop. At 11pm. Just like evangelist Christians, but with longer sidecurls.
Fun people count – Shawn, Yaffa, Chana K., in Café Hillel, Shif, Dani, Avi, Galit from work
Sleep count: 6 hours a night – my college schedule. I need a nap.
Labels: travel
Aliza’s trip part 1: London, baby
It's only someone who annually flies directly to Israel who could call a 6.5 hour flight "short" but such was my experience. On the plane, one appalling airline meal, one mediocre Robin Williams movie and two hours of sleep later, we were almost in
London. I was amazed at how quickly it went, and then we landed on schedule. And sat on the runway for 45 minutes. Eventually, though, they let the plane taxi to the terminal, and I arrived to an extraordinarily short customs line. As late as I was, though, NML was later.
Since I didn't know if I could find her, I sat near the mothership (Starbucks in airport terminal), and knew she'd be able to find me. (That's not exactly how it happenened, but a funnier recounting of events.) When Hami arrived, I scared her to death by jumping out from behind her. We sat, had coffee, tried to figure out how to best the evil foreign exchange people who take a too-large commission for their surly attitudes, and ate yummy tuna sandwiches. (Being women on Rosh Chodesh, and all, benching was in order.)
Then NML introduced me to the vagaries of the tube. I was fine; she was not. We discovered this with me inside the nice gates and her on the outside of the nice gates. Fortunately this was resolved quite quickly, and I discovered how lovely the tube really is, and how stereotypically British some British people look. We took the Picadilly line to Knightsbridge, and walked briskly and efficiently around Hyde Park long enough to comment upon the length of the line for the men's room, the man-made-ness of the little lake called Serpentine, and to discover that my camera's battery had died a short and hopefully painless death overnight. Baruch dayan haemet. Thank goodness NML brought her camera. After Hyde Park, we walked towards Buckingham palace, and took more pictures. We also tried to figure out who the various women represented on the huge statue in front, and decided that if it were Florence or Cracow, they'd be the virgin Mary, but here in England, at least one was Queen Victoria. The other three remain a mystery. We then walked via St. James Park to Big Ben and Parliament, and I had NML take pictures from afar. Then, when we got to the tube station there, I pronounced us "done". N inquired "Don't you want to go closer?" I asked why and she replied "to see it from closer." I really don't get the tourist thing some times.
Then we headed off, from Westminster to my favorite (right near Nehama!) King's Cross station, whose wise officials have lately taken to putting up a fake platform 9 ¾, complete with a trolley that's supposed to be half through the wall. Now I can die happy, as I have been to where Harry Potter was. Just kidding, poo poo poo, ad meah ve'esrim and punch the evil eye in the nose, etc.
Of course, though it was only about 1:15, we were hungry and headed off for lunch to Golders Green. Then, after an unexceptional meal, we went back to NML's place so I could take a much needed nap. While NML wrote a paper, I slept and got ready to head out, then we caught a double decker bus to the subway and took shameless tourist photos en route, stopping at Covent gardens to see the open-air market, some semi-talented buskers and the royal opera house. I saw there was a theatre museum, and was sad we didn't go, until we saw that it had been closed for renovations since January. Then we got to the airport at long last (an outdated New Yorker and crossword puzzle later for myself and Hami respectively) and we parted ways. Oh, and Nehama solved my battery problem. Now I am no longer carrying a lens-laden paperweight. Tourism is fun.
Biggest challenge today: Getting my purse and all its contents into my backpack. Now, a la Gordon Korman, my next challenge is to cram a Jeep into a teapot.
Sleep count: 4 hours today
Fun people count: 1 – Hami!
Labels: travel
