The Israel Trail 05/04/2010
 
On Thursday last week my father-in-law, Dan Eyal, went to work for the final time. At the age of 67 he has received his 'gold watch' and all the family now look forward to him enjoying a long and happy retirement and to him being free to do all those little jobs around his house (and mine), that have needed attention for some time.

Dan has experienced quite a journey through his 67 years, a journey that in so many ways typifies the struggles and joys that the State of Israel has survived since 1948.

He was born Daniel Krakowski, in, (of all places), Samarkand, Uzbekistan. Why was this Jewish baby born in that Central Asian Muslim state back in 1943? Well, because his mother and father, natives of Zakopane and Warsaw respectively, in Poland, fled east away from the advancing Nazi forces, and kept running until his mother could run no more. They had reached Samarkand, and that is where Dan was born. 

At the end of the Second World War, unlike the overwhelming majority of Polish Jews, Dan's parents chose to return and settle in Warsaw. They stayed there until 1956 when resurgent anti-Semitism caused them to flee again, this time to the fledging Jewish nation of Israel. Like so many European immigrants to Israel, Dan (on his wedding day) chose to change his name and left behind Daniel Krakowski to become Dan Eyal.

Growing up on Kibbutz Hatzor, near Ashdod, Dan served in the Israeli Army and was amongst the Nahal fighters under the watchful eye (singular) of Moshe Dayan, who won back Jerusalem from the Jordanians in 1967. He went on to fight a few days later against the Syrians in the Golan, and was called up and back in action again in 1973 down on the Egyptian border during the Yom KippurWar, after which he chose to stay in the air force parachute regiment where he held the rank of major until retiring in 1985.

From then until last Thursday, Dan worked for the Israeli aircraft industry as an electronic engineer. An honourable career I would say, by any standards.

There is a group of hardcore Israelis who love the Israeli countryside, the mountains, deserts, fruit groves and beaches, who set themselves the task of walking every step of the 'Shvil Yisrael', the Israel Trail. Dan decided that upon retirement he wanted to do a section of the nearly 1000km trail every few weeks, a walking path that begins at Metula on the Lebanese border in the north, and ends in Eilat on the shores of the Red Sea.

Last week he mentioned he was going to do the first section, and in a moment of weakness I offered to walk with him on the trail from Shefiyya to Jisr Az Zarqa. And so it was that this very morning we were dropped off at the Shefiyya junction and headed off with map in hand, a couple of bananas and five litres of water between us on the first leg of what would surely be a journey of epic proportions.

Dan might be 67, but he's in very good nick, swims four or five times a week, cycles regularly and walks every evening. I'm nearly 43, do none of the above, but have been known to be fairly useful at snooker and can knock out a passible version of 'Misty' when in the mood to tickle the ivories. Regular followers of this blog will know that I'm not averse to a little wager now and then, and I would have made Dan 4/6 favourite to complete the 20km hike and me no better than 5/4 against!

Once away from the main Route 70 road from Fareidis to Yoqneam, we crossed into the first of many beautiful fruit groves. Apricots were beginning to appear on the branches of these very attractive trees and huge bulrushes ran around the perimeter of the grove where a small stream flowed. Birds were singing, the skies were blue and my legs soon felt like a spinster's pincushion as we walked through thistle-laden paths, having made the mistake of wearing shorts and not hiking trousers. 

Up the first (of many) hills and through the vine groves belonging to the Carmel winery, beginning to blow a bit as we walked the steep path that leads up to the tourist haven of Zichron Yaakov. The path, marked every 100 metres by blue, orange and white lined symbols took us through woods that offered blessed relief from the rising temperatures and after the first hour we stopped in what had been an ancient quarry. It's not easy to find a silent place in Israel, but that was the prize for arriving at this spot. Silence, apart from the twittering of the birds, the whirring of a few grasshoppery-type creatures, and the hissing of a snake. The hissing of a snake! 

Yes, but 10 feet away a black or dark brown slithery, disgusting reptile stopped momentarily to take a good 'butchers' at us. I have to confess to being afraid of few if any animals, with the exception of snakes. I am terrified just looking at them. My spine started shivering and my feeble hushed calls to Dan literally fell on deaf ears, as he had not brought his deaf aid with him for fear of it falling out in the undergrowth. Happily, it slithered under a rock some way away and I packed up my bananas, blanched almonds and bottled water and headed away - poste haste, with Dan trotting after me asking "what's the hurry?" 

Through orange, fig, and pomegranate groves, passing beautiful wild flowers in shades of pink, purple and yellow and on to a descent where fly-tippers had taken the outrageous liberty of dumping building material, doubtless from a major housing project under construction a couple of miles away. In Israel, the police rarely if ever prosecute anyone for destroying beauty spots. It's a crying shame. Crossing the main Binyamina road and uphill (again) through the rugged Ramat Hanadiv Nature Reserve, across landed given by Baron Edmond de Rothschild to the people of Israel. 

In amongst a stunning pine forest where the scent reminded me of an after shave my dad used to wear back in the 1970's - it wasn't Brut – but something like it – it might have been Old Spice – and on to Ein Tzur a beautifully preserved natural water spring that became a spa and baths for the Romans, built around 100BC. Through the rough pastureland past a herd of unflappable Jersey type cows and eventually to Hirbet Aqav, the remains of a Roman Villa that was later home to Byzantine farmers before being lost for nearly a thousand years until, according to a plaque on the site, it was discovered again by Kitchener in 1873. He must have been on a day trip from Khartoum! Quite a find, and with a view from the top of the rocky headland across to the Mediterranean that was simply breathtaking.

Being an amateur Israel Trailer walker, it was only then that it dawned on me that we would have to find a way down the extremely high mountainous rock on which we were standing, and the thought made me wonder why I'd volunteered for the 'stroll'. We'd now covered about 13 kilometres. The path directed us onto a particularly taxing descent over massive uneven boulders and through a Canaanite burial site that dates back to 2500 years BC. Just a quick thought; how can anyone deny that this is the Jewish land when there are such sites documented and proven dating back through so many thousand years of Jewish life in the area?

A very difficult descent indeed, after which we found ourselves stymied by the main Haifa to Tel Aviv rail line and accompanying barbed wired fence which runs right across the path. As if by magic, four walkers came from the opposite direction (the first we'd seen in nearly four hours), and one of them, younger and clearly with less brains than us, took it upon himself to sprawl across the barbed wire to lower it to a height where we could all cross, whilst he groaned in discomfort in Tommy Cooperesque fashion.. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" That's from the New Testament (John 15:13), but who cares, we're in the right part of the world! Bless him, whichever A&E department he must now be residing in!

Through olive groves, banana plantations, through the waters of the Taninim River, past the edge of Binyamina, through Beit Hanania and finally to the Roman aqueduct that lead us, staggering slightly in the manner of Laurel and Hardy in their French Foreign Legion picture, to the Sudanese Arab town just north of Caesaria that is Jisr-Az-Zarqa. 

Well done Dan – a great performance for a newly retired 67 year old. And well done me too, (though I say it myself). A real sense of adventure and achievement, highly recommended to all who come to visit this extraordinary land. The Israel Trail. A long and winding road….. 

Check out the Israel Trail for yourself at www.israelnationaltrail.com

 

 
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