It was our youngest son, Elad, who came up with the idea. At four in the morning we left the house, by 8 AM we were at the Taba border crossing, and just 15 minutes later we were in the Sinai.
Mohammed drove us to Dahab. The previous evening I had negotiated the price with him over the phone. Mohammed is a Bedouin, many of whom speak Hebrew. The Bedouins, the heat, the Red Sea, this desert–in a word: the vibe–all came together and washed over me in a powerful flashback. Memories of my childhood and youth were unavoidable as we rode in the taxi. Just as then, so now, too, we traveled without air-conditioning. My parents imparted to me a love for the Sinai, which at that time was under Israeli rule. Finally, I was here again, together with Anat, Eden and Elad. It was a dream come true.
Despite the extreme heat, we enjoyed every moment. The numerous checkpoints on the highway didn’t bother us; we are used to that from Israel. Each time we were stopped by...
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