My Pilgrimage to the Galilee

People travel from all over the globe to the Kinneret, the Sea of Galilee, in the north of Israel. Many come for religious reasons; others come to vacation, because the Kinneret is so beautiful, especially along the southern end of the Sea. But we came for another reason entirely.

We had spent the day in Tzipori and Tzfat, traveling through the north of Israel. Tzipori is a Roman era town recent excavated, still being excavated, that is remarkable for its beautiful and intricate mosaics, not only in the homes, but also in the shul. Typically Jews don't depict the human form, but the Jews of Tzipori had reached some accommodation with Roman culture, and right there in the shul were mosaics depicting biblical events such as the Akeidah, as well as the Jewish zodiac, something I'd never even heard of before. And despite this seemingly assimilationist philosophy, Tzipori had preserved Judaism in the years after the destruction of the second temple. The Sanhedrin sat there; the Mishnah was compiled there.

Afterward we made the climb to Tzfat, high on a hilltop, miles from anywhere. What made this remote town such a center of Jewish learning in the middle ages? Tiny, unassuming shuls where works like the Kabbalah and the Shulchan Aruch were written. I got the chills just imaging that on the very spot, Madonna had probably walked. I think she and Paris Hilton are leading a group of celebrities on their voyage to Tzfat for the High Holidays.

Anyway, as evening approached, Mike took us to an open-air restaurant on the shores of the Kinneret, Decks, where we dined on an assortment of meats grilled on open fires. Our kind of place. The highlight of the meal was a veal tenderloin, seared on the open fire, and then sliced up, and finished to order at tableside. Our guide, Yaakov, wanted to make sure there was no blood in his veal; it had to be well done. Mike and I ate ours medium rare, perhaps cooked a touch more then we would have in the pit. Besides the veal, we had lamb, chicken, and the ubiquitous kebabs, a blend of ground meat and spices, sometimes served in patties, sometimes on skewers, a stapel of everyone's cuisine around here.

During dinner, as we surveyed the shores of the sea of Galilee, Yaakov pointed out the Scotch Hotel. Danny had told me earlier that there was an inn in Tiberias that served malt whiskies. So after dinner, we wandered over, and had to persuade the young security gal guarding the Inn that we deserved admittance. We had, after all, traveled thousands of miles to drink malt whisky in the Galilee. So she took our names, and addresses, and then guided us personally up the elevator, through some empty lounge, and into the tiny bar of the Scotch Hotel in Tiberias. Needless to say, we were the only patrons there, and I would even guess that we bought the first glass of malt whisky that had been sold that day. Out cute Israeli barmaid had just begun her job that day, and she was being shown the procedure for pouring a whisky, and serving it neat with water on the side.

The selection was good, especially considering the obscure location, but nothing to compare with the choices at Keens or Pints Pub. Still, there were a couple malts which one doesn't find everywhere. I settled on a glass of Mortlach 16, which I'd had only once before, and that was at Maltings, on the cruise ship with the boys. The Mortlach was actually better than I had remembered, but it was the setting, and not the whisky that made this drink so memorable. We had journeyed first across the ocean, and then to the north of Israel, and then on this day we had traveled back to Roman times, and then through the middle ages, and after all that, we ended the day at a new spot, but still a familiar spot, at a bar with a glass of scotch whisky. The next day, when we stopped for lunch in a Druze village in the Golan, Yaakov asked the proprietor if he had any scotch whisky. Yaakov was just being funny, but the Druze restaurant did have a bottle of Johnny Red. So maybe it won't be too long before we're drinking malts in the Golan. But that's a story for another day.