I hate packing. Vacation is great, but before you leave, you have to spend so much time picking out the right clothing combinations that will fit your specific needs. That’s especially complicated when the weather can be blazingly hot during the day and bitterly cold at night.
Then there’s the travel medications. In addition to packing any regular meds, you need to anticipate every inevitability: pills for pain, creams for stiff necks and dry toes; sleeping capsules, antibiotics (always be prepared!), meds in case of nausea, opioids if everything goes totally sideways.
Now, try packing all of that when you don’t know whether war is going to start up again while you’re abroad and your flight home could be canceled.
Prudence dictates you should double or triple up on everything. That, at least, was our experience overpacking for what should have been a quick jaunt to Cyprus for a four-night stay at the Secret Forest, the popular Israeli-run kosher resort.
My wife, Jody, and I started planning the trip in January. But when the US and Israel attacked Iran and the regime responded in kind, we didn’t feel comfortable finishing our booking not knowing if we’d still be at war. People were hoofing it to Taba or Amman or Sharm el-Sheikh to make their international flights.
When it looked like the ceasefire seemed to be holding, we got back in touch with the resort. There were just two seats left on the El Al flight to Paphos (the Secret Forest takes care of accommodations, board, and flights for one price), so we had to act fast. Not succumbing to our typical days-long debate, we let whim guide our decision and grabbed those spots.
The very next day, the headlines blared, “US preparing to restart war in coming days.”
Oy, what had we done?
But this was to be my first trip overseas since my CAR-T cancer treatment, and I didn’t want to miss out.
We also desperately needed a break from the frequent trips to the bomb shelter, the constant checking of the “Can I Shower Now?” app or waiting for the scritch-scratch alarm on our phones indicating that a siren would likely sound shortly.
When no missiles had landed on Israel by the morning of our trip, we headed to Ben-Gurion Airport and hoped for the best.
Part of the allure of Cyprus is it’s so close to Israel. But when you factor in transport time to Yitzhak Navon station in Jerusalem, then the train to the airport, check-in, security, passport control, and grabbing a bite to eat (since short flights don’t serve food), followed by picking up your luggage and boarding the bus for the 40-minute ride into the mountains, it’s actually close to the same as the drive to Eilat.
The Eilat comparison proved apt. The Secret Forest makes for a bizarre combination – a cross-section of Israel transported into the Cypriot mountains.
The resort is 100% Hebrew-speaking. All of the lectures, guided meditations, yoga and Pilates instructors, the evening entertainment, the experiential “reversing” seminar, and, of course, all 200 guests were Israeli. The kosher food (dairy and pescatarian) attracts a significant percentage of observant guests.
With Hebrew the lingua franca, there was no feeling we were getting a taste of another country’s culture. Other than the waiters in the restaurant or the shuttle drivers, we could have been in Hadera or Holon (where half the guests seemed to be from).
Cyprus, or just another slice of Israel?
If there’s a Cypriot favorite food, it wasn’t offered at the expansive farm-to-table brunch buffets. But there were two kinds of shakshuka and a plentiful supply of smoked fish and fresh breads, mainstays at any respectable Israeli hotel spread.
The views eerily resembled the hills of the Upper Galilee; utterly familiar, still beautiful.
My point is: If one is looking for an escape from the Israeli pressure cooker, the Secret Forest ain’t it.
That doesn’t mean it’s not worth going. The grounds are gorgeous – the place was an established retreat before Yoni Kahane, an Israeli tourism entrepreneur and Chabadnik who owns and manages other kosher properties in Cyprus and beyond, acquired it in 2023. His vision was to refashion the Secret Forest as a comprehensive, adults-only wellness retreat.
The staff encourages guests to tuck their phones in their suite safes or at least not to follow the news back home too closely.
There are no chocolate treats waiting on your bedroom pillow; rather, each room has a full supply of nuts and fruits. Throughout the resort, wine and cocktails are free (no soft drinks allowed). Before brunch, which starts at 10 a.m., unlimited strawberry and mango smoothies are available. The honey in the dining hall buffet was so fresh, it was still attached to the comb.
Rinat, who performed two of the four nights we were there, was less an Eastern Mediterranean troubadour than a classic Israeli erev shira (Hebrew for sing-along) cheerleader. The one night when there was a local Greek band, it had learned a few Hebrew hits to throw into the mix.
Much dancing and merriment ensued.
The highlight of our time was a hike to the neighboring village of Miliou. The foliage-friendly dirt path parallels a brook that babbles absently.
I was surprised by how out of breath I was during the at times steep climb (I’m still working on accepting my post-cancer “new normal”), but I did it, which made both Jody and me feel proud.
As our time in Cyprus drew to a close, we began the seven-hour return home. Upon landing at Ben-Gurion, nothing seemed to have changed.
“As Iran talks stall, Israel and US prepping to renew war as soon as next week,” one headline announced.
I unpacked all the extra clothes and medications we’d stuffed into our already overweight suitcase, all the while wondering if this, too, has become a new normal.
The writer’s book, TOTALED: The Billion-Dollar Crash of the Startup that Took on Big Auto, Big Oil and the World, was published earlier this year as an audiobook. It is available on Amazon and other online booksellers in print, e-book and Audible formats. brianblum.com
