There I was poolside, on day three of our vacation, fumbling with four water glasses I was bringing to my dehydrated kids, and who do I run into? The one guy I see most Friday mornings on Pico Boulevard when I pick up challahs for Shabbat: my friend Julien Bohbot, owner of Delice Bakery and Delice Restaurant.
Bohbot was there on business. He is putting together — with the people of Club Med at Ixtapa — an all-inclusive Passover excursion with his own kosher gourmet cuisine and all the fabulous amenities of Club Med. For a set fee, you can avoid all the Passover cleaning, shopping, cooking, serving, hosting and shlepping.
All you have to do is pack your bags and show up at LAX. They’ll take it from there.
Bohbot represents the tip of the iceberg of a mini-revolution in how American Jews are choosing to spend their eight days of Passover. Open any Jewish newspaper at this time of year and you’ll see a growing number of ads for Passover excursions on cruise ships, desert or beach resorts and even luxurious trains.
It’s the Exodus from the Exodus. For more and more American Jews, it seems that at Passover time, there’s no place like away from home.
Until this year, I didn’t pay much attention to this trend. But as I sat poolside this past week listening to Bob Marley music and pondering the notion of reliving the story of my people in a place where they teach you beach limbo, part of me wanted to scream: What are you all thinking?
I understand the convenience of getting away and taking advantage of the Passover holiday to have a family vacation. But where’s the romance of tradition?
The first of the final three candidates at Beth Jacob arrives on Shabbos.
