My brain is mush. My thoughts come as an interior monologue of grunts. I am for all intense purposes intellectually brain dead. And this is a result of spending the last three weeks on vacation in Israel.
Normally in these blog accounts, I tend to go into great detail of my misadventures and escapades, giving a blow-by-blow account of every sight, sound, and smell. This time, however, you will forgive me for glossing over the details in favor of a more languorous and hazy description. It does, I believe, do justice to the experience, which could be characterized as being in the more hazy, zen-like, dreamy realm.
So what did I do for 3 weeks? I slept, I ate, I saw friends, I traveled at bit (to the beach, up north, and even Jerusalem), and I contracted a vicious stomach bug that rendered me incapable of eating anything more than a bit of toast. That’s about it. The stomach bug wasn’t even so terrible, considering I could happily listen to the idle chatter of family and friends below from my position upon that glorious porcelain throne. But don’t worry, I won’t go into detail.
All in all, there is nothing quite so splendid as sitting in my parents’ back garden, gazing somewhat half-focused at the avocado trees, and listening noncommittally to the sounds of doves, parrots, Palestinian warblers, and the like. And above all, not having to use my brain.
I trust that my mental faculties will return at some point. It’s ok to be so impaired while on holiday, but I am going to need them eventually.