On Friday June 13, I awoke at 3:15 a.m. to the airline pilot’s announcement informing us that our return flight from Barcelona was to land in Paphos, Cyprus, rather than in Tel Aviv. The couple next to me exclaimed, ”Is this for real? Where on earth is Paphos?” They had left their toddlers with a Russian babysitter who had no clue about what was going on. Neither had we, yet unaware as we were, that war with Iran had broken out. Each to his own, we were told.
At the Paphos International Airport, thousands of Israelis were scrambling to secure accommodation. Within minutes, most rooms in the local hotels were booked. In addition to the regular British and German tourists, numerous Israelis, now stuck in Cyprus, were frantically searching the Internet for rooms. It felt like mission impossible. Finally, after many hours, I managed to book a room in a hotel owned by an Israeli. The locals had been extremely sympathetic about our ordeal. As an observant Jew, my most immediate task was to book Shabbat meals. Fortunately, no matter where in the world one finds oneself, one can always count on Chabad. During Shabbat at Chabad House, the mix of Israelis was the most eclectic from all parts of the world – from Thailand to Georgia, backpackers, tourists, and businessmen. Israelis from Tel Aviv to Kiryat Shmona shared the same longing to get back home.
