Tsefat - Breslov

In Tsefat, each chassid I talked to, or was addressed by was likeable or loveable.
I davened at the unstintingly adorned Breslov Shul.
( I didn't enjoy it.)
Too many of the hundreds of congregation members prayed with oppressive intensity.
A few hundred men vocally declaring their determination to sip or suck joy from life is bound to result in their pissing their joy on my shoes.

As I was driven along Gallilean roads I noted that the lush winter greenery sprinkled with bright wildflowers was reminiscent of the hilly English countryside in early summer. There were leafy and blossoming trees and the occasional cow browsing.
Perhaps that is why the British allowed such beautiful land to be allotted to the Jews: in seasons like this, the countryside seemed so familiar to Englishmen that it seemed commonplace, nothing special.