So this is my final blog entry and I've been sat in front of my laptop for more than an hour trying to work out where to start and how to try and describe how I feel.

I am currently sitting here in on my balcony in Herzliya having just had the most unique few days of my life and looking ahead to my future in a country I can wholeheartedly call home. I've always thought that language, though often beautiful, can sometimes do little justice to convey a feeling or an emotion. Therefore, I'll give you a run through of all that has happened since we left Eilat on Tuesday morning and the experiences that will stay with me forever.

However, rest assured that the smile on my face right now and the tingle down my spine could tell you so much more about the most incredible journey I have just had and the pride that I have looking at my teudat zehut which lies next to me on the table.

We woke up bright and early on Tuesday morning for a marathon slog up to Herzliya where we were to spend our penultimate night of the car rally. I was shattered after having a terrible night's sleep after I did my usual trick of trying to eat more than my own body weight at the previous night's BBQ. The incredible heat was also an omen for a challenging day ahead. It started badly with a reading of the wrong map and a false start heading north out of Eilat. Once we had left we were in good spirits after we picked up a copy of Yediot and found ourselves plastered on the front of the supplement. We were celebrities in a country we had been in no more than two days! Every car passing us gave us a hoot and a wave and we were making good time in order to meet with the rest of the cars at Sensana which is a very small community supported by the JNF just a couple of miles away from Kibbutz Lahav.

However, as the sun came overhead and our engine temperature began to soar, the day was about to take a turn for the worse. The relatively easy downhill journey down to Eilat the previous day now meant some steep (at least for a 1948 car in the desert!) climbs and our poor clutch that had performed so admirably over the Alps was, to use a technical term, 'on it's arse'. We chugged up the initial climbs at 20 mph with smoke popping out of the exhaust until the we basically came to a stand still half way up a hill. As we waited for the support crew to come to our rescue for the first time since central France, truck drivers slowed down to take pictures of the car and offer their support of which none was particularly helpful as I considered life as a Bedouin wandering the desert for the rest of my life.

The support crew finally arrived and myself and Graham (chief mechanic and one of the nicest guys I've ever met) chugged very slowly past Arad and Be'er Sheva and finally arrived to cheers at Sensana. The mechanics got to work quickly and tore out the seats and floor to discover that the clutch was not going to make it to Latrun, never mind the final destination in Herzliya. A tow truck was therefore called to take the car to Jerusalem as myself and Aly got a lift in other cars to an emotional tour of Yad LaShiryon at Latrun and then on to a relaxing evening in Herzliya.

The next morning heralded the day we'd all been waiting for. This was the final day of the rally and we were to finally travel to Jerusalem for the much anticipated event at the Knesset. Aly and I were driven to Jerusalem by Graham, where we picked up our poor old car at the King David hotel. With a little tweaking of the clutch the car made it to the gates of the Knesset to be security checked.

It was there we met Tony Gelbart and Rabbi Yehoshua Fass of Nefesh b'Nefesh who were responsible for making this entire trip possible for us, and to who I am eternally grateful. After a quick polish of the car we drove in formation on to the forecourt of the Knesset which was decked in blue and white and sent shivers down my spine. We stood around chatting and schmoozing as well as giving more interviews than I care to remember until Dalia Itzik, speaker of the Knesset, came out to start the ceremony.

The cars looked amazing, everyone was in good spirits and we were to be stars of the show. Myself and Aly were presented with our teudat zehut (Israeli ID card) by Mrs Itzik as she genuinely welcomed us to the country and wished us luck for the future. I told her that I look forward to the day I will join her as an MK in the Knesset. She laughed nervously; I said watch this space. We then sang Hatikva alongside Mrs Itzik looking out over Jerusalem, and a wave of emotion hit me as I realised I was one of the luckiest and happiest people in the world to have been involved in such an incredible project and to have had the privilege of being given my formal welcome to Israel by one of the most important people in its hierarchy.

I was walking on air for the rest of the day and my state of euphoria was prolonged long into the evening when we had an end of rally dinner and presentation where a good time was had by all. The next morning I was asked by the mechanics to give it a go and see if our poor old battered car could make it to Ashdod to be shipped back to the UK. Amazingly, and with much care and attention whilst driving, I managed to get the car two miles away from the port before it gave up altogether. Therefore the final leg of my journey and love affair with a car as old as the state I call home, was towed by the support van to the port of Ashdod and driven into a container never to be seen again.

So here I am living the first day of the rest of my life, utterly excited about the up and downs, trials and tribulations and of course ridiculous amounts of hummus eating that lie ahead. I wish to thank everyone involved in Nefesh B'Nefesh and the JNF who made all this possible and of course to you for reading our ramblings on route to the land of milk and honey.

So here I am ready to build a life, get a job, buy a home, find a wife, have kids and tell them the greatest story of how their father made aliyah and ensured that they were born sabras with a love for the state and a determination to make this country a better place.

I hope to see you around (and if you're reading this from the diaspora: GET A MOVE ON AND MAKE ALIYAH!)

Yaniv