Pesach in the North. Don’t pass over it.

This blog is dedicated to an old friend, Jez (Yehudah) Freedman, who passed away suddenly yesterday afternoon, whilst out buying medicine for his baby daughter.  (See note below)

Israel goes nuts over pesach. Suddenly, completely irreligious, seemingly normal people start agonising over random housework which bears little or no relation to true pesach cleaning. Clearing gardens, painting houses and washing curtains is not uncommon. All in the name of the festival of FREEDOM. (Does anyone else see the irony here???)

Now I see nothing wrong with a good spring clean. The days are longer, the weather more amenable and the energy is there, so why not? I just don’t want my kids think that’s what Pesach is. I am a purist. So I am honest with them; Cleaning the fridge – Pesach. Clearing the rubbish around the garden – a Spring Clean (which also happens to keep our landlord happy).  We decided to keep it simple – a vegetarian pesach meant I wouldn’t have to worry about Jojo (who prefers not to eat animals) and also meant we only have to open half the boxes (= half the work.  Hooray!).  We used a roast beetroot for the shankbone in case you’re interested. (Don’t you just love the internet?)

With 5 days to go, we set up a strict pre-pesach regimen. Since I had 3 small kids at home (and no help) we drew up a plan where we divided the most miserable tasks between the few mornings, and kept the afternoons for fun & fresh air. The kids were fabulous. They scrubbed, wiped, shopped, shlepped, papered, unloaded… you name it. My 6 year old and 4 year old were quite happy to assume responsibility for pesach. The baby joined in too. We worked for around 3 hours every morning and then the young staff clocked off for the day whilst I finished up. Thursday 7pm. Job done.

By Seder night they were more than ready for a good time so in the spirit of re-living the exodus we decided to prepare our own 10 plagues. This was our first family seder alone and we wanted it to be special. Blood? easy. Food colouring and water. Frogs? we have one. We made him dance. Lice? Simple. We just plucked one out of the babies head. (For those of you non-Israelis who are appalled by this, I am sorry to inform you that Head Lice here a fact of life.  We live in harmony with them). Wild beasts? We found wooden ones. Hail? We surprise pelted Husband with pre-made polystyrene bits. Boils? My old red lipstick. The rest we acted out with props.

So all in all good fun. Now we have a week of tiyulim. The North is quite simply the most beautiful place in Israel this time of year. Everything is lush and flooded with varying shades of green. The sites are not too crowded and the weather is lovely. We have no idea why Brits visit Israel and spend their entire holiday sweating in Tel Aviv, Herzliya and Jerusalem. We have given up trying to explain it to people. One pattern we have noticed is that it there appears to be a country vs town mentality. When friends visit us who themselves live in the countryside, they are far more inclined to make the journey. And boy are they rewarded when they do. The drive up to Misgav from the centre of Israel is a beautiful thing.

So we have spent our week doing rustic trips such as Nachal Hilazon (literally “Snail Stream”), a beautiful green riverbed which runs from Misgav & Karmiel all the way down to the Nahariya sea, the monkey forest in Yodefat, and our favourite quiet beach spot with clean sand and rock-pools, which is a little off the beaten track on the way to Rosh Hanikra. Tomorrow we visit family in Netanya and that’s as far as we go. The North is such a special place, there is something for everyone – and we are planning to make the most of it. We invite you to do the same.

For those of you wondering why this dedicated blog post is not maudlin and riddled with pathos, that would be because Jez wouldn’t approve. Nor would he be happy if I spent our precious pesach holiday moping over him. So I allowed myself a little cry or two, and then our family went off to the beach where the soft sand grounded me, the salt water washed off my tears and the stunning view cleared my head. My friend was a humble fellow and would also be unhappy if I sang his praises on this blog, so instead, I will write them down and share them with his lovely mum.