Roman Nightmare

On July 10th, we were to leave Rome and fly to Tel Aviv, or as Talula called it "Tel Aviva". We were supposed to leave the hotel in Rome at 10am to take the bus to the airport. Everyone got wake-up calls at 7, or so we thought. As the tour group assembled in the lobby around 9:30, we realized that Sandra and Talula weren't there. Mr. Vivian sent me up to their room to get them, and when I knocked on their door, they answered it very sleepy. It seems that the hotel did not give them a wake-up call to get back at them for the trick we played on the bellhop the night before. So, they screamed and hurried to get ready. As they ran into the lobby at 10am to leave, the hotel staff just smiled. We were all pretty mad, but they had the last laugh. We got to the airport, and I saw very heavy security. Police with machine guns. Now, you have to understand that this was 1973. Security was very tight back then in European airports, as well as in Israel. It wasn't like that in the US. Strangely though, they never asked me about the small knife I had in my pocket. We boarded the plane for Tel Aviv. We flew over the Meditarranean Sea to Tel Aviv. Our hotel was on the sea, and I went out that night to put my toes in the water. Judy went out on the beach with the bartender. Another night of sampling the local flavor. The Israeli leg would be very eventful and rather scary. And, it was just beginning.