One evening last summer I was chatting in a bar in Crete with a doctor from Tel Aviv, who was on vacation with his family. We talked about the Palestinian friends he hadn't seen since the start of the Aqsa intifadeh, his missions as a reservist in the Israeli army. I asked him how long he was staying in Crete. Just a few days, he said, then added wistfully, "Sometimes we just have to get away."
These days "getting away" is easier said than done. Ask the Israelis who arrived at the Paradise Hotel in Mombasa just as bombs exploded there,...
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