It was really supposed to be the summer trip of a lifetime. After much internet stalking and price comparisons, I organized a roundabout visit to Israel through Vienna. For me it would be a great opportunity to take a work trip for the Jewish Link Wine Guide, visiting Israeli wineries, participating in and photographing plantings and harvests, while also bringing my kids along and letting them enjoy all that Israel has to offer in the hot summer months. We had not been able to come to Israel since the war broke out, and we all felt that it was important to spend some of our summer here.
As June melted into July and Israel announced two major terrorist assassinations, talks of ceasefires and hostage releases stalled. Israel went on a higher alert than before for an expected direct attack from Iran and its proxies. By August 7, the day before our departure from my mother-in-law’s home in Vienna, the headlines predicted an attack within hours, with potentially devastating consequences. Several family members canceled their own trips. My mom, a sister-in-law and even my mother-in-law thought traveling to Israel at that moment was the worst idea ever. It was under this most heightened state of stress—with Israel readying for an attack within hours—that my kids and I boarded an El Al flight and flew to Israel.
(It was strangely ironic that during our two days in Vienna, a Taylor Swift concert series was canceled due to a planned terror attack from Islamic militants. This made us feel like it might be safer to be in Israel than Vienna.)
What was most interesting is that even before we got on the plane, we got a taste of “business as usual” from El Al, even though it was, by then, the only major airline flying in and out of Israel. Every seat was filled, many with Israelis returning home from vacations, with children and babies, many business travelers, Americans and small groups with elderly travelers needing wheelchair assistance. It was just like every other flight to Israel I’ve ever been on.
Now, after two peaceful Shabbatot in Israel and looking toward our last Shabbat of this trip, I am bemused and a little surprised at how little “the tensions” affected our trip.
I was able to keep virtually every appointment I made before the trip, and the only cancellation of note was that one of the water hikes at Ein Gedi was closed (not for war reasons). We were able to drive without incident to Mitzpe Rimon and to several wineries in the Negev, and passed through many checkpoints all around central Israel without incident. We particularly enjoyed getting covered in dirt while planting vineyards in Shiloh for Shiloh Winery and in Susya for La Forêt Blanche. While we don’t plan to go further north than Zichron Yaakov, the only real concession I felt I had to make due to the war was missing that drive up north to some of my favorite wineries in the Upper and Upper Western Galil like Dalton, Adir and Kishor.
One of the truly magical days of the trip was at Agur Winery, where my friend Yechiel is on the staff. The winemaker, Eyal Drory, works hard to create blends that are reflective of the unique microclimate of the Elah Valley, which is distinct from Judean Hills and foothills. We helped sort sauvignon blanc grapes that had been affected by a bit of noble rot, and got to see the entire process as the grapes were sorted, destemmed, crushed and processed into juice and piped into a vat for fermentation. We also were invited to join the winery staff for lunch, which was a beautiful meal grilled with care by the father of one of the winery partners.
What I do feel is present in Israelis is a remote sort of politeness toward us as “annoying American tourists,” which I haven’t seen before, perhaps an acknowledgement of vulnerability to the way the news and the war has affected their tourism businesses over the last nine months. Also, many I have spoken to have a sense of hopelessness or sadness as Rosh Hashanah approaches, with 318 days gone on the calendar since October 7. October 7, 2024 is going to be really tough this year, unless another miracle happens and the IDF is able to rescue more hostages. I hope God will help this happen.
If I am honest, I am glad we came even though there is sadness here; and also glad that the experience on the ground is vastly different from that which we hear on the news in Chutz L’Aretz. While Israelis live against a specter of war and terror all the time, their message now is that they still have to buy groceries, meet friends, go to work and spend time with their families. People are still getting married and making smachot, and vineyard planting still has to happen before Tu B’Av.
I know many people canceled their trips to Israel this August (and certainly many airlines canceled people’s trips for them), and I certainly understand why. But I do feel that coming to Israel this year was important for me and my family. Every place we went, whether it was empty or half-empty, we felt we added a little bit of support by being here.
