After our expedition to the Shomron, it was inevitable that our surviving members who had no significant alternative plans or surgeries would be eager for another adventure. The Shomron trip had been a huge success and I was again looking forward to the extraordinary beauty of the mountains, valleys, flora, and fields of the Galil.

The war intervened and the trip was postponed time and again; we were beginning to despair. As soon as the pikud oref permitted, however, we were instructed to gather in the municipal parking lot (across from English Cake, which opens at 6:30 and, as every MOOP knows, has toilet facilities as well as coffee and pastries). My wife brought her signature MOOP excursion specialty, which has won her a loyal following among MOOP women: two rolls of toilet paper, which she graciously shares as they line up outside the ladies room du jour.

We assembled for a scheduled 8:00 am departure. Everyone was early, which is the beauty of arranging trips for old people. If we are not early, you may assume that we have died, and the bus can leave on schedule either way. We boarded the bus. We had been advised to leave the front rows available for the many folks who claimed to be afflicted with motion sickness; I made Ahuva join me way in the back, because I didn’t want to be in front of anyone afflicted with motion sickness.

On April 26, MOOP embarked on its Galil excursion, undeterred by the fragility of the ceasefire.

[For the uninitiated, MOOP is an acronym that I coined for Modi’in Organization of Old People. It is not a pejorative. We are proud MOOPs–collegial, highly educated, well-medicated, diverse (to the extent that a bunch of old, white Jews can be diverse), and mostly ambulatory.]

Immediately upon boarding the bus, the intrepid MOOP septuagenarians and octagenarians, in exhilarated but hushed tones, started planning for the first bathroom stop. We were excited to see that the extraordinary tour guide from our previous trip was leading us. He is personable, knowledgeable in ancient and modern Jewish history, conversant with Biblical and Talmudic sources, charming, and highly sensitive to the strained facial expressions and low moans of the elderly that indicate a communal desire to find toilets. He also has a passion for Israel.

His name is Chezki Bezalel of Ahavat Ha’eretz. He brought us all back alive, with our own passion for Israel renewed and reinvigorated, and without a single broken hip.  He is a treasure. And he was assisted by his wife, Yehudit, who provided support above and beyond the call of duty. The tour organizers were also exemplary, patient and thorough. Shepherding a bunch of old Jews is not easy.

Two underlying themes, before the details of the trip: (1) The beauty of the land of Israel touches the Jewish heart and her history speaks to a Jewish soul. There is no authentic Judaism without a commitment to the land that was integral to the original compact with God. So yes, the concept of Zionism, the commitment to this land as a Jewish national and religious home, is part and parcel of Judaism. (2) While the devastation of the border communities of the South on October 7 was horrific and their graphic destruction ineradicable from our memories, the punishment inflicted on the North continues to this day. There are no tourists in Meron, Tzfat, Kiryat Shmona, and the beautiful wineries. The economy is hurting; in many places we were the only tourist bus. Chezki encouraged us to shop (after we used the toilets and washed our hands) and buy local falafel and shawarma. Need I say that the women were........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)