It’s a fair assumption that any wise old saying that I can recognise in three different languages is likely to have more than a grain of truth in it. If you caught the reference in the title of this week’s post, you will be way ahead of me. Just in case you didn’t, here’s what I’m referring to.

The best laid schemes of mice and men gang oft agley.

Man proposes, God disposes.

Der mentsh tracht un Got lacht.

(I understand, incidentally, that the origin of the English version is in Latin, from a work by Thomas a Kempis, the 15th Century German cleric.)

Anyway, I planned to be writing this week’s post at an altitude of 30,000 feet, somewhere between Lisbon and Tel Aviv, rather than in a Lisbon airport hotel. However, Homo proponit, sed Deus disponit, as Tom so snappily put it. Let me explain.

Bernice and I were booked to return to Israel on an overnight El Al flight, landing at 2:30AM on Monday. This was a smarter move than it sounds, because Taanit Esther, the dawn-to-nightfall fast that precedes the holiday of Purim, would start about two hours after we were due to land, giving me an opportunity to eat and drink just before the fast started. It also meant that we would be able to leave Penamacor in the middle of the day and have a civilised drive to Lisbon, rather than slipping away during the night as we did in November. We felt that Tao might more readily accept our absence if we drove off during the day, rather than disappearing overnight. It is, for us, upsetting that we cannot explain to him at this age that we will be back and have not deserted him.

So that was the plan. We had, of course, been following closely the spread of the Corona virus, and were relieved that the number of cases in Portugal was small, and that the kids had chosen to move there, rather than to Spain or Italy, particularly after the Israeli authorities ruled that anyone returning from the worst affected countries had to self-isolate for 14 days.

I was woken on Sunday morning at 6:00 by Tao’s crying. (He is cutting, or rather not quite cutting, a tooth.) I was secretly a little pleased, because the pain does not seem to last very long, and Tao is then wide awake, while his parents are usually still exhausted. My selfless offer to keep him entertained downstairs while they go back to bed is gratefully accepted, and I get to look like a hero, while enjoying an hour or more of Tao to myself. Lying in bed, waiting to see whether Micha’el managed to coax Tao back to sleep or gave up and took him downstairs, I checked my phone, and read an SMS from El Al inviting me to check in online (which I had already done) for our 7:00PM flight the same evening. This SMS had been sent at 5:37AM. A second SMS, sent by El Al at 5:38 (a minute later) informed me that our flight had been cancelled! While I was struggling to absorb this information, I heard Micha’el go downstairs with Tao. I followed them, and asked Micha’el to stay with Tao for a few minutes while I phoned El Al.

‘A few minutes.’ I only had to wait on the line for 35 minutes before a clerk answered. I explained our situation, and learnt that, as I suspected, the airline was ‘condensing’ flights. I imagine this is because passengers are cancelling, and also because flight crews returning from some European destinations are having to self-isolate. When I confirmed that I wanted an alternative flight as soon as possible, I was transferred to reservations. This involved me holding for another 90 minutes, quite convinced that at any moment the line would go dead and I would have to start the whole process again, but eventually another clerk answered, and, after I had explained the situation, he offered me a TAP (Air Portugal) flight the following afternoon. When I confirmed that would be fine, he asked me to hold while he made the booking. A mere 7 minutes later he was back, and I soon received email confirmation of the booking. It was now 8:30AM, and Bernice and I started thinking of the other changes we had to make. She whatsapped our insurance agent, to check whether we needed to extend our travel insurance by a day. In fact, since we had been due to land at 2:30AM on Monday, we were already covered for the entire day. Meanwhile, I called the car hire office at Lisbon airport to explain that we would be returning the car a day later than arranged.

Which is where Got really started lachting. The conversation went something like this:

‘Our flight has been cancelled, and I would like to extend our rental period by one day.’

‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible, sir.’

‘Im sorry. Could you repeat that? I thought I heard you say that isn’t possible.’

Note: In my experience, car hire companies are only too happy to extend the rental period, and often don’t even require you to notify them. You can return the car a week later than agreed, and they will be delighted.

‘That’ s correct, sir. Your contract is for 28 days and that is the maximum contract period that we allow. You will have to make a new contract.’

OK. I’d like to make a new contract for one day.’

‘No problem, sir. Just come in to the office and we will do that.’

‘So you are telling me that I need to drive a 90-minute round trip to Castelo Branco to make a new contract for one day? I can’t believe you are suggesting that.’

‘No, sir, you misunderstood. We don’t have an office in Casto Branco. You will have to come to Lisbon.’

‘So, in order to extend my contract by a day, I….’

‘No, sir, you cannot extend your contract.’

‘Of course. Silly me. So, in order to take out a new contract for 24 hours, I have to drive three hours to Lisbon and three hours back.’

‘Yes, sir. Exactly, sir.’

‘And I cannot do this over the phone.’

‘No, sir. You have to bring back the car in person, and we will issue you with a new car.’

‘You do realise that this is complete madness!’

‘I’m afraid there is no other way, sir.’

After a brief discussion, Bernice and I decided that the only solution was to leave Penamacor as planned on Sunday afternoon, book into a hotel near Lisbon airport, leave our luggage there, drive to the airport and return the car, then spend the night in the hotel and return to the airport the following morning. At least this would all be at El Al’s expense.

Growing increasingly frustrated, I googled and found an airport hotel, booked a room online, printed out the reservation, and asked Bernice to put it with the rest of our travel papers. She spotted immediately that I had booked a room for Monday night, instead of Sunday night. I tried to alter the reservation, but that was not an option online, so I had to cancel the reservation and start again.

By the time I had done that, the clock on my laptop showed that we had barely enough time to pack and make some sandwiches to tide us over the next 24 hours, before we had to leave, if we were to drop off the luggage at the hotel and then return the car within the contracted time. (I was using the clock on my laptop because my watch battery had died a few days before; it transpires that God, like his opposite number, is in the details – we had not found anywhere in Penamacor that replaced watch batteries.)

I was far from quietly growing increasingly hysterical as the clock ticked, and I had no idea why the rest of the family were staying so calm and looking at me as if they did not understand my concern. It was only after we were ready to go that I realised that, since my laptop was still on Israel time, we in fact had more than an hour before we needed to leave.

This meant that Bernice and I had time to make and eat some breakfast (at around noon) before saying our goodbyes. Never easy, but our next trip in June is already booked. We had an uneventful drive to Lisbon, found the hotel and checked in without incident, and returned the car on time. We then walked back from the airport to the hotel (a 40-minute walk, which was a good opportunity to stretch our legs after the drive), went straight to our room, showered, ate some of our sandwiches and spent a pointless 20 minutes looking for something worthwhile to watch on TV. My goodness, wasn’t The Ten Commandments a dreadful film? And why did the Egyptians and Hebrews all speak with a British accent (Chuck Heston, Yul Brynner, even Edward G Robinson,), while the Midianites all spoke with American accents? We soon opted for an early night, after an exhausting day.

I am now writing this post at 30,000 feet, as originally planned, so I suppose that all’s well that ends well. Of course, when we land, we may discover that Portugal has been added to the Israel Ministry of Health list, and we will be facing two weeks of self-isolation at home. Mind you, after the last day and a half, two weeks of doing nothing at home sounds pretty attractive.

PS: …. two weeks of doing nothing at home sounds pretty attractive. This is just as well, because, in a move that proved beyond doubt that we are no better off than mice in the planning business, we landed in Tel Aviv exactly 75 minutes after Israel extended the self-isolation requirement to Israelis returning from any foreign country. (Word on the street is that Israel wanted to extend the requirement only to a number of countries where the situation had worsened, including a number of states in the US, but Mike Pence ‘explained’ that America would view with dissatisfaction being labelled unclean, but would be prepared to accept being part of a blanket restriction.)

So, I am completing this blog in the comfort of our own home, where Bernice and I will be enjoying a second honeymoon, desperately trying to remember what we did on the first one almost 48 years ago.

We are comforted by the fact that, having returned, from an isolated and so far virus-free area of a country that is (again, so far) much less affected than Israel, and having arrived back at our home town of Maale Adumim, whose first case of Covid-19 was diagnosed today, we actually feel much safer at home, isolated from all those potential carriers on the streets. The only drawback is that our internet is not working at home, and, as of the time of writing, I do not know when I will be able to upload this post. So, please accept an advance apology for prospective tardiness.

And next time, having spent a week locked up at home, I will have no news from here, and should be able to bring you up to speed on the kids.