Having many more of Don’s aunts, uncles, and cousins to visit, we set out for Kiriyat Shmona, which also happens to be the city Don’s mom and dad first met in. Nevo was driving on the twisting roads down the mountain from Baram, and he spotted a sign that said "Naftali Scenic Lookout", and pointed down a gravel path. Nevo has a tendency to veer off the road and stop at every scenic viewpoint he can find, so we began driving down the bumpy, narrow pathway. It took us along the edge of the mountain where we could see the entire Hulah Valley below. Since there was no place we could turn the car around, and the path appeared to continue down the mountain, we kept driving to see where it would take us. After winding down the switchbacks, Kiriyat Shmona came into sight, and we discovered an exit through a residential neighborhood. We arrived in Kiriyat Shmona safely, but were later informed that we accidentally drove on a gravel path only meant for bicycles and army vehicles, and it could have potentially taken us into Lebanon if we continued going on it. At least it had a scenic view.
For our afternoon activity, we drove nearby to Beit Hillel to go rafting on the upper tributaries of the Jordan River. Galila went to purchase our tickets, and I could hear her arguing at the counter.
Galila: “We are staying in a bed and breakfast in the area, don’t you offer discounts for that?”
Employee: “Yes, but you need a coupon book”.
Galila: “But I left it by accident…”
Employee: “What’s the name of the bed and breakfast you are staying at?”
Galila: “Um…Felix’s Bed and Breakfast”
Employee: “I’ve never heard of that…”
Galila: “You haven’t heard of it? It’s an amazing place!”
This went back and forth for a while, and eventually the employee gave in and let her have a small discount. The river Dan, also my boyfriend Don’s namesake, was more of a mellow, shady stream than the raging torrent advertised by the boat rental company. Galila, Nevo, Joanna, Don, and I were in one big inflatable raft. Nobody but me felt like paddling, so we spun in circles, occasionally knocking into tree branches, other rafters, and an abandoned mattress floating downstream. I eventually gave up, and just let the current help us creep along. Toward the end of the journey, we were warned of rapids. I was picturing class five rapids, but instead it was a mere three-foot drop over some submerged boulders. A photographer on the riverbank patiently waited for each group of rafters to pass over the sole rapid, so he could snap a picture of how extreme the experience was, and sell it to them in the gift shop. At the end of the route, some tan and jocky Israeli guys hoisted our raft out of the river, and directed us towards the bus that would take us back to the parking lot. We passed by the kiosk selling our pictures, but we were told “come back later, the computer isn’t working”.
We left souvenirless, and drove to Don’s uncle Felix’s bed and breakfast, which is not actually called “Felix’s Bed and Breakfast”. We arrived to a warm welcome, and were given our own bungalow, with a Jacuzzi tub oddly situated in the living room. We reconvened at Felix’s house, and were joined by more, and more of Don’s relatives. Don’s aunt Rina, who is an excellent cook, began to bring out plates of salads and appetizers, as the men set up a charcoal grill. While we were waiting for the burgers to grill, Don’s cousin Moor took us to see his friend’s pet donkey. I felt bad for the poor animal as Moor, who is large for his age, tried to ride it around the block. I’m not sure who was more stubborn, Moor or the donkey. We returned to Felix’s to discover some new items on the menu for the evening: grilled chicken hearts and liver. Though I was told they are a delicacy, and kosher, I decided to pass on the opportunity.
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