Today was a travel day and tomorrow will be similar to today. Sometimes travelling is like that. You must spend 1 or 2 days travelling to get to where you want to go and then spend a few days there. I had breakfast with Rob and we had our usual enlightening political discussion. We politely solved all the problems in the world. Yannick came down to say goodbye and we promised not to wait 15 years before seeing each other again. Before coming to R and J’s home, I diligently prepared a ‘short’ presentation of the last 15 years of my photo stream concentrating on the developement of my family. We showed the photos on a big stream TV. Afterwards, Rob showed 2 movies, 1 on one of their daughter’s wedding and 1 on the construction of this house and the last house. The last house was an 8th century ruin complete with a chapel which took 4 years to rebuild. The house was then sold to an elderly lady who is now in her 90s. The present house took 4-6 months to renovate with 50 or more workers. The renovation is a marvellous success. R and J are wonderful hosts and I am very happy to have renewed our acquaintances.
Rob drove me to Chiusi, about ¾ hr away on small country roads. I had forgotten how beautiful Italy is, having not been here in over 15 years. Rob gave me 2 cans of olive oil from their garden which I managed to pack in my overflowing suitcase. The 2 suitcases are rather heavy as I am carrying clothes for a month as well as clothes both for the triathlon and motorcycle ride. Uniforms for the parade, Tri suite for the swim, bike, run, shoes for running and bicycling, motorcycle boots, my motorcycle suite, my helmet etc. The train ride took 2.5-3 hours with 2 changes eventually arriving at Rome Aeroporta. A shuttle bus brought me to my hotel, a ‘3*’ hostel, ok for 1 night. I had a seafood dinner in a local taverna recommended by the shuttle driver.
Love,
Brian
The last 200 meters of the triathlon with my American buddy, 20 years younger than me, 1 foot taller and a former pro hockey player.
Today is Oct. 7th, the day that my life changed, the day that I realized that I could not, nor would return to my former self. Throughout my life, I have been a son, a husband, a surgeon, a father, and a grandfather. I have also identified myself as a Canadian, a Jew, an atheist, and a Zionist. These identities underwent a profound transformation following the tragic events of October 7th, 2023. On that fateful day, indelibly etched in my memory, the latter identity assumed paramount importance over all others.
There are many dates to remember, for my generation, for the generation of my parents, ‘the greatest generation’ and the generation of my children. Many people remember these dates, many remember exactly what they were doing at the time the event took place. Nov. 11, WW1 ended, Sept. 1, WW2 began. June 6, the Normandy invasion, Aug. 6, Hiroshima, May 8, WW2 ended in Europe, Nov. 22, Kennedy was shot. Sept. 11, the Twin Towers, Oct. 7, Gaza.
On Oct. 7, 2023, I made the decision to go to Israel and serve in whatever capacity I would be needed. Eventually I went to Israel 3 times. In 2024 I served 2 months, 1month with the IDF packing medical bags and 1month as a physician/paramedic with Magen David Adom. I repeated this in 2025 serving 2 weeks with the IDF and 2 weeks with MDA. Once again in 2026 I spent 3 weeks in Israel, including 2 weeks with MDA. I documented my experience in my blog entitled, ‘gobriantravel.com’. Subsequently, I wrote a book documenting my experience. The book includes several chapters on the history of the Middle East from 1900 to 1948. The book concludes with chapters dedicated to my family history and my personal opinions of the world today focusing on antisemitism and antizionism. All proceeds on the sale of the book will go towards the purchase of an ambulance for MDA.
I awoke this morning, at 6:29, 1 minute before my alarm was to go off, to lightening and the sound of thunder. Oh no! I really did not want to ride for 5 hours in the rain. By the time I had my bags packed and secured on my bike, the rain had stopped. I boarded the ferry from Palma, Majorca to Denia and settled in at a window seat for 5 hours. After a 5 hour boat ride I had no interest in doing a 5-7 hour bike ride. Last evening, I edited my journey to a 3-4 hour ride on the autoroute. The sun was shining, the road was bone dry so away I went. The speed limit on highways here is 120 km/hr. I rode mostly at 100 to 110 and was quite comfortable at that speed.
I am staying at a 4* at the outskirts of townfor a reasonable price. I just spent 2 hours at one of my favourite places, the laundromat. I am sitting at a local taverna with the locals, had a delicious meal consisting of fried calamara, writing my blog. I made friends with a few of the locals who promised to read my blog. We checked it out on the website and it had been automatically translated into Spanish. Great! As a reward, I was served a ridiculously large teramisu with an oversized glass of Scotch to finish off the meal.
My TomTom 550 Rebel is a GPS dedicated for motorcyclists. You chose your route according to whether you want the fastest way to get there or wether you want a ‘thrill’ ride which is usually on secondary or tertiary roads with the maximum amount of hills and curves. That is usually the type of road that I choose. To day was no exception and should be my last ‘thrill’ journey. I chose a route on the south western part of the island from Palma to Valldemossa and then down to the port. The road was steep and I was amazed to see hundreds of bicyclists on the road. They seemed to ride in groups of 5, 10 or 20 and were probably part of different teams. I spoke to several people and although most were from Spain, many came from different countries in Europe. They carried no luggage so probably a truck brought their bags to different hotels along the route. Many times the bicycles past me on the way down going over 50km/hr.
The first part of the route had the usual amount of curves and twists. The road from the town of Valldemossa to the port was the most difficult and adventuresome road that I have ever been on in all my days of motorcycling. The route was only 5 km long and the scenery was breathtaking. I wound my way down the mountain with a switchback every 30 to 50 meters. I rode in 1st or 2nd gear rarely achieving 30 km/hr. Many of the turns had to be taken in 1st gear at 5 km/hr. Often I had my foot on the ground for balance. Hopefully I didn’t do too much wear and tear to the sole of the boot.
I arrived at the port at the bottom of the mountain and had a capuchino in a cafe overlooking the port. There were many cars there and everyone was enjoying a full meal. I didn’t stay long as I was anxious to get going and the sky looked threatening. In the end, going up hill on the curves was no harder than going down hill. I arrived at my hotel 5 hours later.
My ferry boat from Ibiza arrived at 10:30. There was a long line up of about 20-30 motorcycles waiting to get off the boat. We all started up are engines together, you can imagine the noise, and proceeded in single file off the boat. Everyone nodded to each other and off we went, as if we had known each other for years and were in the same motorcycle gang.
My hotel, Juan Miro Museum is a 4* located 5km from downtown Palma, the major city in Majorca. It was impossible to find, and much too expensive to be in the old city. This hotel proved to be much less costly and has all the luxuries that one expects in a 4*.
I dropped off my luggage, parked my bike on the sidewalk which is apparently acceptable here and headed off for late night refreshments at 11:30. The manager gave me explicit directions, ride down the hill, turn right and you will find many small restaurants open at this late hour. I came upon 1 restaurant and had a few tapas. Somehow, I managed to head off in the wrong direction. Very soon I was on an autoroute going I am not sure where. Unfortunately, I had neglected to bring along my GPS and had a vague idea of the name of the hotel. It came across my mind that I may be obliged to sleep at another hotel along the way. Just in the nick of time, I spotted a sign for Palma. I followed the sign and arrived at a gas station. I asked directions from a young man filling up his tank who suggested that I consult the GPS on my phone. Why didn’t I think of that? The elderly should not be allowed to travel alone in a foreign country. I consulted my GPS and what to my surprise, my hotel was listed in living colour with the correct directions of how to get there. Off I went hoping to have enough battery life and 15 minutes later I was back at my 4*.
My 4* has a buffet with no fewer that 50 items to choose from. The cook, from Ghana prepared a 2 egg tortilla with an assortment of vegetables for me. I added another dish of fruits with yogurt and I was set for the day. I decided to take the bus to town instead of the bike. It is easy to park the bike but it means that I must carry around the heavy helmet. The bus trip took 20 minutes and passed through downtown. Palma is much bigger than Eivissa and shopping area id very well developed for the local population,
I got off the bus and wandered through the old, walled section of town. I was pretty much alone until mid day when the tourists woke up and flooded the streets. The old city has the usual narrow, windy streets with the usual shops dedicate to the tourist population. I eventually arrived at the cathedral but did not enter as I was unwilling to pay the 6Euro entrance fee. I settled for the basilica which was much more modest and probably at least as old.
I had a capuchino at the town square and walked along the waterfront. It is Sunday afternoon, sunny, 28C, not a cloud in the sky, blowing 10-12 knots and not a single boat out sailing. It is the same everywhere in Europe and North America. People buy boats, leave them in the harbour and never use them. It takes both time and knowledge of sailing to sail a boat or even to sail a motor yacht. People don’t have the time or energy to learn how to use their toys. Eventually the boats are sold at a loss.
I walked along the waterfront, eventually walking up the steep hill to my hotel. The journey took the better part of 2 hours. I spent the rest of the afternoon at the pool, swimming and reading my book.
I woke up to a drizzle this morning forcing me to change my plans and wait for a change in weather. There are always emails to catch up on and I like to review my plans in advance for the next few days. As I am taking 3 ferry trips with a motorcycle, I don’t need any last minute surprises. I was finally able to download a new book so I sat out on the hotel terrace, watched the raindrops fall and read my book.
The weather changed at 1:00 and the sun appeared. I waited 1 hour as I don’t like to ride in the rain or if the roads are slippery. The sun dried everything up and I was off. I planned my trip in advance on my Tomtom and headed off to the west coast of the island. Ibiza is very small and it is easy to cross the island in 30-45 minutes. The centre of the island is mountainous and the roads go in between the mountains.
I arrived at a small port town on the other side of the island and took off my motorcycle clothes. I was over dressed and hot as the temperature had risen to at least 25C. I decided upon a cappuccino and a double but small gelato for lunch. A had a little chit-chat with 3 American students who were spending a ½ semester in Madrid. After refreshments, I continued my journey wearing only short pants, no gloves and my motorcycle helmet in open position to ‘feel the breeze’. I rarely wear short pants on a motorcycle as it could be dangerous in a fall. I usually keep the helmet closed but the weather was warm and agreeable and I was not going too go fast.
I continued onwards deviating from my route to follow the sea. The problem with doing that is that you often either wind up at a dead end at the sea, or on a small narrow uninviting cow path. Today was no exception. I enjoyed the scenery but the GPS lady was not impressed. She lead me round and round until I was able to get proper directions at a cross roads from 2 police officers in a vehicle. ‘Straight ahead’ and off I went. Eivissa is well developed but the rest of the island is rather undeveloped. All along the coast there are small hotels catering to tourists who come for a week or a few days of sun, drinks and beach. Although the island is tiny, it still takes time to get from one place to another.
I was due for a change of pace for dinner. I am at a touristi beach restaurant overlooking the Med., listening to the waves lap the shore and sipping a marguerita. I treated myself to a seafood platter and a copa of tinto to wash it down. It is a little chilly so I am wearing a fleece.
When I arrived at the restaurant, the hostess addressed me in Italian, thinking that I was of Italian extraction. May be it’s my sun tan or the way that I carry myself. Many years ago, my mother worked in an Italian bakery when she was 14, and taught me to count to 10 in Italian. The hostess laughed and we switched to English. My grandmother taught me to count the same in Russian. My waiter speaks 7 languages. Compare that to Mr. Legaux who speaks 1.5.
I woke up this morning, well rested, although I didn’t do much yesterday, and partook of the hotel buffet included in the price per night. Other than the size of the room which is only slightly larger than the bed, I am certainly comfortable here in my renovated well, to good taste and modernized 3*. The day started off with a few drops of rain enough for me to wear my new Pantagonia rain jacket but not enough for an umbrella.
I decided that today would be devoted to a walking tour of Eivissa. The island is called Ibiza and the town is called either Ibiza of Eivissa to confuse the tourist. I walked through the down town area which has more stores than downtown Montreal. The area caters to the locals rather than the tourists and contains shops that you would find in most downtown areas. I have found over the years with my many travels, that the 2nd impression of a town is very different than the 1st impression. A 3rd impression would only be made after spending some time in the area.
The night time crowd differs considerable from the day time crowd. The locals here resemble the locals in any small Spanish Med town. Young and old, rich and poor, in good shape or not. Compared to the evening and night time tourists, most of the people are middle aged, with the smattering of grey hair but no white haired ones like me. Ok so be it. I continued through the area eventually arriving at the old town. Here everything changes. The streets are narrow, windy and cobble stoned. The area is pedestrian only. Unless you have a good sense of direction, you can go round and round and arrive at the same place that you started from. This part of Eivissa caters 100% to the tourist trade. Stores, cafes, restaurants one after another selling everything that a tourist thinks that he/she must have. Everyone must have a beer, margarita, pizza or tapas at mid day. You must consume something as the restaurants only open later after 9:00.
Eivissa has a history that dates back 2700 years to the Phoenicians, Romans, Arabs, Crusaders etc. There is a mountain in the centre which has a fortified castle at the top. You can walk up the narrow winding streets or take staircases or any combination of the later. Once at the top the view of the Med is sensational. I walked around for several hours eventually arriving back down at the port. At his point my phone was running out of battery from taking so many photos that it was a challenge to return to my hotel, the address I had forgotten.
I am currently sitting at a hotel terrace overlooking the beach. The weather is warm enough but the beach is small and the water is rough. I saw 1 girl wading and 2 windsurfers out. There are other better beaches on the island that I will explore tomorrow.
I am anxiously awaiting the results of the Quebec election that everyone says will result in a PQ victory. Legaux really helped them with his poor government. The Liberals have no chance. The best that we can hope for is a minority government for 4 years. The Israeli elections are another problem. There are 38 parties running in a government formed by proportional representation. After everything is settled, the prime minister is left with the task of forming a government from several often extremist parties.
There was an attempted highjacking of a plane by an Islamic terrorist bent on crashing the plane into probably a densely populated area. There were Israeli tourists on board, so instead of calling it a terrorist act, CBC, CNN and the BBC are calling it an altercation between pilots in the cockpit. At the same our own beloved PM is handing another $100 million to the Palestinians making a total of $700 million donated to the cause since 2023, in order to continue building their subway (tunnel) system. Their billionaire leaders are raking it in living off the fat of the land in palaces in Qatar. Meanwhile we now have 120,000 homeless in Canada who are left to fend for themselves. One need only to read the latest version of the Concordia University Handbook, (manifesto) which severely criticizes Canada’s colonial background. If they don’t like it here, why do they come here to study?
I will finish off my afternoon beer, continue gazing at the Med, finish writing my blog and prepare myself for a ‘busy’ evening.
I have had great luck in choosing my hotels during this trip. Last night and this evening the hotels are once again exceptional with great atmosphere and reasonable pricing. I booked a table later in the evening after a shower and a brief nap. Riding a motorcycle is wonderful, adventuresome, tiring and of course just a little bit dangerous. I met a lovely couple from England and we had discussion of my recent volunteering for 4 months in Israel. They showed interest in my blog and hopefully will purchase my book. Dinner consisted of a 4 course meal including an entree, a main course, a salad, a dessert a beer and a glass of wine. I was definitely full at the end of the meal and will perhaps decrease my consumption tomorrow. (Or perhaps not)
I awoke well rested and partook of the morning buffet breakfast. The problem with buffets, is that one tends to overfill several plates and consume more than is necessary for a breakfast. I formally checked out of the hotel, but was permitted to remain at a table in the garden for the rest of the morning and the greater part of the afternoon. It took me 3 hours to catch up on my emails and another 3 hours to book the remainder of my hotels and train tickets in France. I gave up trying to book a hotel at CDG as I refuse to pay 400 to 1000 euros for 1 night in an airport hotel. I will take a TGV from Reims to CDG, check my baggage overnight at the airport and take an RER to Paris. I booked a ‘reasonably’ priced hotel in Montmartre allowing me some time both to visit with Remi and Marie-Christine and to spend the evening in a wonderful arrondissement of Paris.
Later in the afternoon, I rode to the Dania port. I proudly lined up with the motorcycle guys and gals waiting in line to board the Baleares ferry boat to Ibiza. On the boat, I stayed on the back deck to view the port of Dania and the town. A rough count allowed me to estimate the number of motor yachts and sailboats at over 1000. I love to watch the swell that a ferry boat makes coming off the back of the boat. We arrived in the port of Ibiza 2:15 hours later. I drove off the boat with the bikes and continued down the Main Street to my hotel.
My 1st impression of Ibiza is that this is a real party town. The Main Street, which I will explore tomorrow is filled with high quality shops. There are people walking everywhere. The population resembles the population at the triathlon. In Pontevedra there were 4500 athletes and tens of thousands of onlookers. As I have mentioned before, there were 29 athletes in the 75-79 age group with 3 from Canada. The tourist population that frequents Ibiza is no different. If I look around me, I am definitely the oldest here. The island definitely caters to the 20-30 year olds. Great, I feel really at home here.
My hotel is situated less than 50 meters from the beach. The beach area has a long boardwalk boarded with cafes, bars and restaurants. The atmosphere resembles the board walk in Tel Aviv but the beach is much more narrow here. I am sure that there are other more secluded beaches in other parts of the island which I will check out tomorrow. I am sitting at a bar/restaurant overlooking the beach, drinking beer, eating tapas and writing my blog. The weather is pleasant permitting me to wear only a tee shirt and shorts.
After taking pictures of the tapas, I decided to forgo a formal dinner and just engorge myself with tapas. I selected several, which you can see from the pictures were all delectable. The tapas, accompanied by beer and wine made for a most pleasant evening. Spain appears to have a male dominated culture if one can deduce from the population at the hotel bar. There were about 20 males present in groups of 3 or 4 arriving from 9:00 to 10:00 pm. Everyone was watching the soccer game and there were no females present.
I awoke this morning perfectly rested and prepared myself for my ride today. I had planned all my rides in advance with my TomTom GPS. All my rides leave from my hotel and bring me door to door to my next hotel. I usually allow for 2 stops for coffee and several stops to take pictures. My route was supposed to be 4.5 hours long and 6 hours with the appropriate stops. I arrived at my hotel 8.5 hours later.
When riding a motorcycle, there is always an adventure at every turn. Today was no different. On planning my route, I forgot to eliminate dirt roads. On leaving Albecete, I immediately found my self on a dirt road. On engaging a dirt road, I usually hope that the road will improve in 15 minutes. I hour later I was still on dirt. The problem with a dirt road is that I can only use the 1st and 2nd or 3rd gears as I don’t want to go over 25 km/hr. This also burns a considerable amount of gas which brings me back to my usual problem of running out of gas.
Eventually, I found myself on a reasonable terciary road. At that point, probably due to all the shaking, the electric wire from the GPS to the bike gave out. It is impossible to drive in Spain on secondary or tertiary roads without a GPS. You will be lost even before you start. Several cars stopped to help but no one had a solution. I played around with the wires for a while without success. There is an unwritten code among those who ride motorcycles, that if a bike is stopped at the side of the road, you must stop and offer assistance. This has happened to me on multiple occasions.
The 1st bike to come by, and therefore the 1st to stop, was ridden by an English fellow and his Ukrainian girlfriend. Great, at least we could communicate. He was a retired industrial mechanic and an expert on motorcycles. He unfortunately could not get the wire to work. He had multiple tools with him and suggested that we remove the seat and search for a burnt fuse. Still no success. In case of emergencies, I always carry an external battery pack. Needless to say, I did not have the correct wire attachment. He suggested that we go to a ‘China shop’ similar to our Dollar Stores, run by Chinese people; which are present in every small town.
He accompanied me to the next town where we found the store. There, we went through several isles, eventually finding the correct wire attachments. He then skillfully rewired my GPS to the power bank. I don’t know what I would have done without him. I don’t know if I can call CAA from Canada here in Spain! After taking pictures and telling him that I would include the storey and pictures in my blog, he lead me back to my route. They then took off at a speed that I could not follow.
The rest of the route was a motorcyclist’s dream ride. After leaving behind the arid, mostly flat land from Albecete, I arrived at the costal mountain range. The GPS lady told me that the next 73 km would take 2:15 hours. She was wrong. It took me almost 3 hours as I had to stop to rest and occasionally take breathtaking pictures. There was a hairpin turn every 30 meters. There were ‘S’ shaped turns, curves, hills and steep slopes. The views were spectacular. Many times I stopped to take photos peering down cliffs. The weather was warm, sunny with cloudy periods, occasionally threatening but no rain.
I arrived at Dania, a seaside port which I will explore tomorrow. I am staying at Hotel Rosa, a 3*- 4* resort hotel a few hundred meters from the port. The hotel is wonderful, resembling an older hoscienda. My room has a balcony overlooking the garden and the pool. My ferry boat leaves tomorrow at 5:00 pm so I will take the entire day to relax. When I consider the jet lag, 2 triathlons in 3 days, my trip to the ER for treatment of a UTI, my hair raising 2 days of intense motorcycling, I think that I need a break to reset. After all, I am 77.
Today was a travel all day type of day, just to get somewhere and sleep during the trip. I was tired after the race but was really happy with my team mates. We bid each other good-bye after a beer and hopefully we will meet again at the Worlds in Hamburg next year. I will be 78 at the time of the race and might be getting a little old for these tests of endurance. We will see next year when the time comes to register.
I dropped my bike off at the parking lot as arranged and drove back to Pontevedra to pack. You can’t get served in a restaurant in Spain before 9:00 pm so there is no point even in trying. I spent the time packing and left the hotel at 9:00 to go to the same restaurant as last time. Unfortunately, I did not memorize the route or the exact name of the restaurant. After driving around on small roads and getting semi lost, I realized that my search would be in vain. I stopped at a roadside taverna and the owner was kind enough to serve me. I consumed the biggest ham and grilled cheese sandwich that I have ever seen, accompanied by chips and a smaller empanada. The sandwich was half a bagette long overflowing with cheese and lettuce. With a beer to wash it down, it really hit the spot. I spoke at length with the owner about the race as well as my blog and my book. I never pass up a chance to publicize myself.
I slept from midnight to 5:30 am and drove to Vigo 1 hour away to drop off the car. I then took a local bus from the airport to the train station where I boarded a train to Pontevedra. The roads and the signage on the roads is incredible. The speed limit is 120 km/hr but people tend to drive even faster. On the other hand, the signage to get you from the bus station to the train station leaves much to be desired. I was lucky to meet a young Egyptian fellow who was doing his PHD in engineering in Vigo. He helped me with my luggage and guided me to the station. I must make quite an impression with my white hair and 2 pieces of luggage because even young and middle age women offer their help to me.
I boarded the TGV equivalent to Madrid which moves along at 3:30 km/hr. Wow. I tried to take pictures of the countryside but the train was moving too fast so the pictures got blurred. I promise to take pictures of the route tomorrow. It was a struggle to get from the Madrid train station to T4, then to T1 where I took a taxi to the Crown Plaza Hotel. I slept on and off on the train and managed to do my final bookings of trains and hotels for my trip. I am having some trouble with bookings in Paris as it is hard to book an airport hotel, for my dates, for less than $500 a night. It must be a holiday weekend.
My motorcycle, a Honda 500 Rebel, was delivered right to my hotel. Great service. I inspected the bike and it is exactly the same one that I rode last year so I am familiar with wth the controls. I packed just enough for the 10 day trip as I prefer to wash clothes rather than carry extra baggage.
Although it drizzled all day today, tomorrow will be partially sunny, 25C, just perfect for riding.
I ate breakfast at my usual café and slowly made my way to Pontevedra. I managed to find a tight spot in a free parking lot. Hopefully I will find my way back to it as my iPhone has run out of battery. The super tiny battery bank does not seem to like my iPhone. I may have to buy another one which is always more expensive, bigger and heavier. Oh well those are the trials and tribulations of travelling in a foreign country.
I picked up my rental bike in the parking lot and had the fellow adjust the seat and put on my own pedals. It is super light with semi automatic gears which the fellow had to explain to me how to change gears. Sometimes modern conveniences are above my level of comprehension. I managed to find my way to the registration counter and was able to register without too much difficulty. People here take an extra bit of time to help white haired seniors find their way around.
It was 16 C this morning but has warmed up to 30 C now at 3:00. I race tomorrow at 2;00 pm so the heat should really be fun. There are a lot of stands at the site selling various foods and drinks for the race. Last time I made a mistake and was tired and dehydrated at the end of the race. I found a stand selling foods and beverages and was served by a young knowledgeable young lady. I explained what happened to me last time. She gave be a drink to have just before the race, special energy bars for the bike ride and run and a recuperation drink for afterwards. She also gave me a water bottle with an electrolyte drink which I can fill at will.
I will be off to the assembly area in a few minutes to meet with my team. There are 4500 athletes here from 60 countries. All the countries assemble by continent and in alphabetical order. We take a group country picture and then march in under our respective flags through the cobblestoned streets in front of 10,000 fans cheering us on. Wow!! Everything is filmed for local and close circuit TV.
Continued:
My iPhone was not working as the connection was loose. I found a great telephone shop with a knowledge salesman. He seemed to be happy that Canada will have EU status and would immigrate to Canada if at all possible. He fixed my phone and sold me a new battery pack, somewhat heavier than the one I have but with more memory and much much faster to charge. It took some time for him to set everything up, but it was worth it. I missed the team photo but got several photos of the parade. I marched in with the Canadian team. It was really fun. 4500 athletes and 1000s of spectators with a lot of camera men. The World Championships Triathon is very important all over the world except North American.
looked for the Israeli team but could not find them. I am not sure if they were with Europe, Asia or the Middle East group. I saw one group of individuals with a Free Palestine flag. I walked by, showed them my dog tags and told them I was with the IDF. I was with a large group of Canadians, mostly looking big and strong, so my risk was minimum.
I am eating supper at 10:00 pm, in a restaurant overlooking the water. Life is beautiful. I am looking forward to the race tomorrow.
