I’m in Tel Aviv, walking the same streets I did five years ago. The northern part of the city, near the marina. I recognize the park, the steps down to the beach. It’s late, but then again that’s the only way I know this city. Some thirty six hours ago I left Atlanta. There was a stop back home in Virginia to switch luggage on my way from DCA to Dulles. A few hours in Istanbul’s airport (before the terror attack). Now I’m here, and it’s well after midnight. But with cousins and a Goldstar beer to welcome me, all the travel recedes into a painless blur. Another round, a few more stories to tell before bed.

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