Israel: Tel Aviv and Jerusalem

Earlier this year, I found myself rubbing shoulders with Germany’s chancellor, Angela Merkel – literally. We had bumped into each other in the lobby of David InterContinental Tel Aviv, a seafront hotel in Tel Aviv. She smiled graciously and continued to the hotel lifts, no doubt to prepare for the next day, when she would be in Jerusalem to make her historic address to the Knesset (Israeli parliament) in German.

This was a historic trip for me too, a whirlwind tour of the holy land’s two most important, yet, wholly different cities – Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. I wasn't sure what to expect but what I found is that these two cities are so different that it is hard to reconcile that they are in the same country, let alone just 48 miles apart.

TEL-AVIV

Tel-Aviv, like any city worth its salt, has that indefinable vibe that compels you to walk its streets. Trendy hotels, ballet and dance theatres, street art, high rises, ancient passageways, walk-by archealogical digs, museums, sea-front promenades and twenty-four hour nightclubs galore - this city has it all.

There is also a motley mix of shopping experiences from flea to designer on offer. And Allenby Street in the heart of the city, is a fabulous conduit to three of them. I started my spree at the art fair at Nachalat Binyamin where talented artists display their arts and crafts for sale. I couldn’t leave without buying a hand made belt and small painting.

Just steps away is the colourful Carmel market where stall holders nestle together, noisily, in long, narrow walk-ways, selling fruit and veg, clothes and hardware. Trade is brisk and I had to gesticulate hard or shout just to be noticed. I eventually emerged, a little worse-for-wear, but exhilarated, back onto the Allenby Street t-junction clutching a bag, brimful of delicious fresh dates.

Collecting myself, I walked past some locals resting on a semi-circle of street benches and crossed the road to Sheinkin Street, one of Tel-Aviv’s most trendy streets, where café culture thrives. I could have chosen any number of types of cuisine but it was the falafel/shawarma bar that lured me. I couldn’t wait to get my teeth into one of Israel’s best ‘street’ food: a pita bread filled with balls of fried chick pea, salad, chips, humous, tehina and chilly for the brave.

What exactly makes Tel-Aviv tick is difficult to say. The Israeli people have cosmopolitan features, varying styles of dress and cultures that have (not entirely) integrated from around the globe and who now live together in a city that was just a collection of sand dunes a mere 60 years ago.

From my perch at the tiny falafel bar, I could see blondes, brunettes, white and dark skin and all shades in between. Had it not been and the tell-tale Hebrew language spoken at high decibels with typically Israeli hand gestures for extra clarity, I may well have been in Oxford Street in London.

From Sheinkin it’s a short walk to the very elegant Rothschild Boulevard home to the ‘White City’ - a large clutch of world-famous German Bauhaus architecture known for its straight lines and no-nonsense design. It is not at all beautiful but it is a Unesco Heritage site and worth taking a peak at just for its historical perspective.

Rothschild Boulevard is also where the Israeli Independence museum is located (number 16) which in my view is a must-visit museum. In here is the very room where the state of Israel was born and where a touching 10 minute film shows the idealism, heartache and losses that the Jewish people endured in the build up to the birth of Israel.

Just outside the heart of the city is the impossibly quaint ancient fishing port and city of Jaffa. Jaffa (or Joppa) dates back to biblical times and the architectural style hasn’t changed. Artists hang the fruit of their easel on the exterior yellow stone walls of their studios and I spent most of my time uncovering the almost hidden doorways that lead the way to tiny shops selling Judaica and archaeology in twisty stone passageways named after the signs of the Zodiac.

The Wishing Zodiac Bridge - where I complied with folklore and placed my hand on the Capricon segment (my sign), and made a wish while looking at the sea - leads to the red-bricked Franciscan St Peter’s church which, they say, hosted Napoleon is 1799.

The sea here is the Mediterranean and its laps onto 14km of soft sandy wide-brimmed shores. Even in early spring, temperatures are warm enough to enjoy a walk along Ha-Tayalet promenade. It follows the contours of the beach and along the hem of high-rise seafront hotels. It is gorgeous. But by 9pm the promenade fills up with entertainers, pedestrians and party goers. By midnight, bars, eateries and clubs are a swell of bodies swaying to the rhythm of the night into the small hours. It feels hedonistic and after a couple of drinks, it was all too easy to forget that I was in the holy land.

JERUSALEM

By contrast Jerusalem feels and looks entirely holy. It is only an hour or so drive from Tel-Aviv but in that hour, the cityscape changes dramatically, shape-shifting into undulating waves of land courtesy of the Judean mountains with crammed-together, stone buildings that seem to protrude from every hillside nook and cranny.

Jerusalem is neatly divided into four quarters and we started our path in the Jewish quarter. Our first destination was the iconic Western (Wailing) Wall in the Old City. There are many gates into the old city and we entered via the Maimonides Gate passing through airport style security towards the wall.

King Solomon built a temple to house the Ark of the Covenant, so revered by Jews, in 516 BC. It was destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD and this wall is all that is left today. Jews (and others) come to pray in front of it, often squeezing hand-written notes asking for fertility, money or health, into any chink they can find, hoping for a direct line to their god. The woman next to me told me she was praying for her hair to grow back after chemotherapy and my heart broke. If ever there was a monument to humanity’s deepest despair and most heartfelt desires, this 2000 year-old stone wall is it.

Looking down at the ground at the foot of the wall I saw hundreds of messages that had fallen out as new hopefuls add their memo’s to god. None are destroyed as these are later buried by the wall-keepers. It’s all very beautiful yet I found the atmosphere to be heavily sombre.

This is also the site of the world’s oldest mosque, The Dome of the Rock (built AD 691), sacred to Muslims. Muslims believe that it was from this spot that Prophet Mohammed ascended to heaven. I could see its golden dome shimmering for recognition in the afternoon sun while I said a few words to whichever god may be listening.

When I walked away from the al-fresco prayer plaza beyond the railings, I saw a priest animatedly arranging his congregants (Polish pilgrims) for a photo opportunity, exicted to have the wall as the backdrop. I went to take a picture of the scene, and when he spotted me he spontaneously struck a delightfully jocular pose.

I saw this earthly shepherd and his flock again later at the Via Dolorosa (the 14 stations of the Cross), leading them along the winding route that Jesus took from his trial to the site of his crucifixion. This passes through the Muslim quarter and ends in the Christian quarter at the Church of the Holy Sepulchure or Church of the Resurrection. Entry to this most sacred church is just a humble brown door, but just steps into the interior is a stone slab set above ground level known as the Stone of Anointing. This is said to be the place where Christ was prepared for burial and I watched as faithfuls lovingly kissed and caressed the stone in reverence.

All denominations conduct their own services in various parts of the church. I witnessed the Catholic service which is held at the central dome. Congregants were dispersed to the sides to make way for a parade, which, to my amazement was headed by my jocular priest who winked at me as he walked by!

Despite the Muslim/Jewish tensions that reside alongside the locals it is gratifying that on ground level, its business as usual. I milled around the shuk (Arab market) and rummaged through gold trinkets, garish scarves and hookas. Later, in hillside shops, I joined Jews, Christians and Muslims in the fine art of haggling and came away with a couple of bargain pieces of jewellery. The day ended at an open air café where I mingled with all manner of Israeli’s enjoying Turkish style coffee as Chasidic Jews in full regalia walked by. In the background I could hear the muezzin call Muslims to prayer from a nearby minaret.

Leaving Jerusalem in the early evening meant emotionally preparing for Tel-Aviv’s city lights again. This was made all the more difficult by Benny, the guide/driver. As we were departing he stopped so that we could take in the hill-top vista over Jerusalem whose ancient creamy stone buildings, all the way down to the bottom of the hill, were by now, bathed in the golden-red hues of the setting sun.

It brought to mind a Babylonian Talmudic description (Tractate Kiddushin 49:2): ‘Ten measures of beauty were bestowed upon the world; nine were taken by Jerusalem and one by the rest of the world.’

I wonder if Ms Merkle would agree!


FACT BOX
bmi flies operates a daily, direct service to Tel Aviv from London Heathrow. Return flights between London Heathrow and Tel Aviv cost from £310 including all taxes and charges.
www.flybmi.com

Thomsonfly also operate flights to Tel-Aviv from Luton and from manchester

Furter information: Israel Government Tourist Office
Tel: 0207 299 1111 Or visit the website www.thinkisrael.com

For more information on the David InterContinental Tel Aviv please visit www.ichotelsgroup.com


Dome of the Rock
In 2006, the compound was reopened to non-Muslim visitors. Free admission, except on Fridays and Muslim holidays, between 7-10 a.m. and 12:30-1:30 p.m. Entry is through a covered wooden walkway next to the security entrance to the Western Wall known as the Mograbi Bridge or the Maimonides Gate. However, entrance to the Dome itself for non-Muslims is not allowed.

7 August 2008