Being the last full day before the start of the Rally, Friday was bound to be a crazily busy day. I spent most of the day packing, chatting at various points with Dudy (Starck) and Louise (Angel) from Nefesh B' Nefesh to coordinate the afternoon activities.
 
The action really started around 4 in the afternoon when the car was delivered - a Rolls Royce Silver Wraith from 1948 (it too celebrating its 60th birthday this year) accompanied by Simon Winters - Chief Exec of the JNF and one of the main organisers of the Rally, and Graham - the mechanic who has been working around the clock to get the car in shape in time.

The car was a little bigger than I expected and looked amazing - wow! Simon and Graham showed me around the car - some of the highlights -- the car had been repainted and looked really nice, on the inside things were a little new to me and some small things came as a bit of a surprise, such as.. the fuel gauge didn't work, the windscreen wipers are hand-operated, and they installed indicators yesterday.. oh and the small detail that the brakes weren't particularly effective to slow you down - you have to use the gears to do that! They were comfortable all was OK so I was too!
 
Simon said his goodbyes, and shortly after the photographer from the illustrious Harrow Observer (the local newspaper) showed up and took some pics, one of which was to go with the feature article that I was concurrently discussing with the reporter over the phone.
 
ITV television reporters came as scheduled - they took various pieces of footage of packing, going into the car, interviews, an interview with my mum. It all went pretty fine - ITV will be back to see us off on Sunday and will be broadcasting a short piece in the London Evening News. Louise was on hand to help us out with all of this and it all went very smoothly.

 
The time had come for me to a quick driving lesson with Graham - so off we went, together with Dudy and Louise in the back seats, for a quick lesson. Graham drove a bit first to show me the ropes. There was a lot to learn but shortly after I took over. I didn't actually take me too long to get the hang of things which was reassuring. It will take a little time to get used to but should be OK after a short while.
 
So that was a snap-shot of the day - what a day! Everyone was happy to go home well in time for Shabbat and some well-earned rest after a hectic week.

Ali

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Day I: Cold feet? More like cold engines.

Sunday morning saw two young men wake up at a ridiculously early hour to embark on the journey of a lifetime. Myself and Aly had been packing for days, planning for months and dreaming for years for the day that we would finally make aliyah and start a new life in Israel.

Aly was to drive down to Waterloo Place in central London to meet myself and the other rally participants for a big send off from the really quite impressive crowd who had gathered to wave us off. However, our fellow member on this epic voyage was having some doubts and was severely lacking in chalutzic spirit and Zionistic fever. Our as yet unnamed 1948 Rolls Royce had decided that he would declare when he was ready to leave and when his ignition wanted to work. So due to our uncooperative friend, we were late for the leaving ceremony with the Israeli Ambassador and all the cars had left by the time Aly and our car arrived.

The next five minutes were a whirlwind of photographs, television interviews and hurried farewells to friends and family. It would have been nice to have said a proper goodbye to our loved ones, however in this age of paparazzi and celebrity icons, we were immersed in our own fifteen minutes of fame and had ambassadors to meet, babies to kiss and autographs to sign.

The day finally unfolded with our car deciding that even France was a step to close to Israel and struggled to start at least three times. Meeting an old couple who used to live in my old flat in Highgate at a service station an hour south of Calais was a highlight for me, as the car enthusiast 70 year old started tearing apart our engine in the vein hope that he could spark some life in to it. Plots to hijack a London bus (a la Cliff Richard in Summer Holiday) and very nearly having to find out how sixty year old headlights work brought to an end an epic first day.

Our next entry will detail our trials and tribulations through the French countryside en route to the land of milk and honey. In the meantime, au revoir from the land of baguettes and odd looking people who enjoy staring at you at service stations as you sweat over the engine of a vintage car.

Yan