Upon entering the new natural history museum in Tel Aviv, visitors are greeted by a vivid re-enactment of the great avian migrations from Africa to Europe through northern Israel’s Hula Valley, complete with stuffed hawks, pelicans, and vultures circling around the ceiling of the building’s entrance.

The Nabateans traversed the hilly desert by camel, but you can do it
by car, jeep, or bike and see some spectacular scenery along the way.

Close your eyes and travel back in time 2,000 years. You’re riding the back of a camel laden with frankincense and myrrh from faraway Yemen, navigating 100 kilometers (62 miles) across the harsh, hilly Negev Desert to get your precious cargo to the Mediterranean ports.

The music at the Golan Heights Winery has just come to a stop, giving the 20 dancing couples from the Washington, D.C., area a chance to catch our breath and maybe take another swig of wine. One of the musicians, a zither player with a long white beard and flowing robes, walks to the microphone and smiles at the crowd. “Welcome to Israel,” he says, “Welcome home.” Though the group of 40 young professionals, which I am part of, were strangers just four days ago, we are indeed beginning to feel a sense of belonging.

In the Jewish tradition, dolphins are described with mythical qualities. In the Talmud (Bekhorot 1:5), we are told that dolphins “are fruitful and multiply like human beings.” Some manuscripts, however, say that dolphins “are fruitful and multiply with human beings”! Rashi, in discussing these passages, considers dolphins to be half human and half fish, using the old French word, syrene (mermaid).

In the summer of 2008, I trekked in Nepal to the base camp of Mount Everest. After nine challenging days, I stood at an altitude of 18,100 feet, atop Mount Kala Patthar, and from there I had an unobstructed view of the summit of Mount Everest. It was truly magnificent and I was quite proud of my accomplishment. However, the most meaningful experience of the trek did not occur until two days later.

I’m not sure if the rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain, as the song goes from the musical “My Fair Lady.” Maybe that’s why I packed a raincoat, which I wore for about two minutes during a light rain shower in Barcelona. For the rest of the time on my trip to Spain, the weather ranged from hot to oven-like temperatures bordering on three digits, and all I wanted to do was drink cold lemon water and dash for cover into the shade.

Israel21c recently published an eclectic list of anticipated new hotel openings you should keep in mind as you plan your Israel travels this year.

The Appalachian Trail is the longest hiking-only trail in the world. It extends 2,200 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mount Katahdin in Maine. Over the years, I have hiked sections of the Appalachian Trail in Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine. It is my dream to one day complete the entire trail.

This winter, I had the privilege of participating in Caravan for Democracy, a 10-day mission organized by Jewish National Fund (JNF) designed specifically for American, non-Jewish student leaders from various universities to visit Israel for the first time. From the moment we arrived at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv, the itinerary was packed: We would meet with high-ranking politicians, journalists, and businessmen and women, as well as visit important religious and political sites around the country.

Holding up my glass, I made eye contact with the other volunteers. The protocol was to then say “Egeszegetekre”— “To your health,” the traditional Hungarian toast — and take a sip, inviting the others to follow. We had performed this ritual every night for two weeks. I continued to hold up my glass, but I hesitated before saying egeszegetekre.