Day "1" - Part 2: Flights and Airports

Part 2 of 3

In order to keep this entry from stretching on forever, I've split it up into three parts. If it helps, you can think of them as Pre-Airport, Airport & Flights, and Arrival in Tel Aviv.

I arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare. This was a relief, as I can think of few worse ways to start a trip than missing one's flight.
The downside was I had, in my rush to get there, totally forgotten to deposit a check that I'd been carrying around. Oops.

I got all checked in, left my giant-bag to be checked and kept my carry-bag. After a few "Hey, I got to the airport just fine!" phone-calls and a last-meal-in-America, I boarded the flight for Zurich. (The flights went NYC - Zurich, Zurich - Tel Aviv)

Boarding the plane felt, I imagine, a bit like jumping off a cliff, or leaping out of an airplane. The undeniable beginning of this trip.

As for the flight itself, it could have been worse.
I started off by sitting in the wrong seat, where I almost-had a wonderful seat-neighbor. I reseated a row further back, next to a very old lady who I'm fairly sure was not-all-there.
She left her overhead-light on all night (I think because she couldn't figure out how to turn it off? I wanted to help, but there's no polite way to say "Do you want to turn off that light?" at 3 in the morning.)

I didn't sleep much, if any, on that flight. My seat was also in the middle of the middle-row of seats, so any view out the window was restricted to neck-straining glimpses. This was also the case for the flight from Zurich to Tel-Aviv.

On the plus side, Swiss Air is delightful. They gave everyone quite a few meals, several refreshment-runs, and a piece of chocolate at the end of each flight! (Three cheers for free Swiss chocolate!) Also, all the blankets and pillows and headphones came in plastic cases that looked like something from the Ikea stockroom.

Arriving in Tel Aviv was a trip. I was, after about 16 hours either in the air or in airports, no sleep, clothes that I'd been wearing since Thursday morning, and a stomach with nothing but airline food in it, in a decidedly altered state.

The passport-control officer heard my request that he stamp something other than my passport, but I had been under the impression that they would stamp a piece of paper I kept. This was not the case, and I felt a bit silly having handed him a piece of paper. He stamped this entry-pass thingy, which they took after i walked through the passport-area. (The reason for not having them stamp my passport is that other Middle Eastern countries, including the other two I'll be visiting, Egypt and Dubai, may take an Israel visa-stamp as a good reason to hassle you. I don't really feel like having to bribe / being detained by Egyptian or Emirate airport security, thus, separate piece of paper.)
I got minimally screwed by the taxi driver for the ride from airport to hotel (travel tip: With very, very few exceptions, taxi drivers are essentially con-artists with a map and a car and an unbridled desire to take your money)
and got all checked-in to the hotel.

What appears to be a Cobra attack-helicopter just flew overhead. More on Tel Aviv later.