I confess - I took a day off! I'm back with the program, here in sunny Tel Aviv on the Mediterranean. First, the hotel. It is called the Hotel Cinema, part of the Atlas chain. It is a boutique hotel, made in a Bauhaus building (more about them later) which once was - a cinema!
If any of you are heading this way, I highly recommend the hotel. It is centrally located, moderately priced, has a long breakfast and a happy hour on the roof every night. What more could one ask?
Contrary to their reputation (and, indeed, my personal experience meeting a lot os Israelis in New York in the 60's and 70's), the Israelis I have met have been friendly, charming and helpful. Maybe it is because they are in the tourist industry, or maybe it's because they are more relaxed at home (with less of a chip on their collective shoulders) or maybe they have just mellowed in 40 years.
I arrived on Friday night, shabbath, and on Saturday, pretty much everything but a few cafes was closed. I was up early, and, after a wonderful breakfast spread at the hotel including goat cheese from the Galilee, olices, fresh tomatoes and cucumbers, smoked white fish - but, of course, no bacon (they actually raise pigs here, although they don't call them pigs but)rather, white meett, which they raise only for export), I went fr a walk on the promenade by the Mediteranean.
There are, of course, reminders of the past everywhere...
Since it was Sabbath, and since Hank wasn't here yet, I thought I would go to synagogue. Interestingly enough, the half dozen people I asked didn't know where a synagoge was! (For a change, The Lonely Planet had it right: "While the State of Israel hits the headlines, the state of Tel Aviv sits back with the cappucino!). There was one on the map, though, so I headed off on Allenby Street (all these names from history - Allenby thought he would just be a footnote in history, but he does have a street named after him!) to what they call The Great Synagogue.
I was actually quite nervous to go in. All I saw going in were wizened old men in prayer shawls. Wel, after I ginned up some Dutch courage (to use an expression which I have never used before and just came into my head) with a cappucino, I dutifully covered my head and went in.
As I feared, there were no women inside, but 15 or so men rattling around in this huge, beautiful synagogue. I hovered around the back - I saw the balcony, but didn't see anyone up there, so just stayed in the back of the sanctuary. Sure enough, the Jewish equivalent of the rector (I think) came up to me, and told me, politely (to my surprise1) that I could pray upstairs. After had clambered up there, I did find three women - one young and two very old - also praying.
As most of you know, I don't have very finely tuned feminist sensibilities, but I felt remarkably offended at being relegated to second class citizenship. That said, it was all remarkably familiar, and the rabbi had the voice of an angel - it was downright operatic! So I stayed for an hour and a half, thought about my parents, and the rest of my family, dead and alive, said the prayer for the dead, and left, feeling - good.
Keeping with the non-commercial nature of the day, I then joined up with a free Bauhaus tour. Apparently, Tel Aviv has more Bauhaus buildings than any other city in the world, and was declared a Unesco world Heritage site because of it in 2003. Of cours, the ideas - and the ideals - of the Bauhaus movement were brought from Germany to Israel by the Jewish architects fleeing Nazi persecution. A lot of the structures are dilapidated now, although many are being rehabbed. The architecture is characterized by horizontal lines, curved balconies, "thermometer" stairwells (stairwells with a row of vertical windows to provide light), and a complete absence of ornamentation.
There is so much new construction going on that they all the crane the national bird, so you can always see the new behind the old, but you get the idea!
One thing that the tour guide said was interesting personally. He called the Jews people of extremes - we were the extreme socialists, and now are the extreme capitalists. As some of you know, David used to call me Ms. Excess, because I always do things to extremes. I guess he knew whereof he spoke!
Anyway, it was a fascinating tour, albeit a long walk home. After a nap, I went up to the roof for happy hour, to wait for Hank's arrival. And there I will leave you, as - finally - Hank has smoked enough and I-padded enough, and may be ready for another day. I will bring you up to date later!
If any of you are heading this way, I highly recommend the hotel. It is centrally located, moderately priced, has a long breakfast and a happy hour on the roof every night. What more could one ask?
Contrary to their reputation (and, indeed, my personal experience meeting a lot os Israelis in New York in the 60's and 70's), the Israelis I have met have been friendly, charming and helpful. Maybe it is because they are in the tourist industry, or maybe it's because they are more relaxed at home (with less of a chip on their collective shoulders) or maybe they have just mellowed in 40 years.
I arrived on Friday night, shabbath, and on Saturday, pretty much everything but a few cafes was closed. I was up early, and, after a wonderful breakfast spread at the hotel including goat cheese from the Galilee, olices, fresh tomatoes and cucumbers, smoked white fish - but, of course, no bacon (they actually raise pigs here, although they don't call them pigs but)rather, white meett, which they raise only for export), I went fr a walk on the promenade by the Mediteranean.
There are, of course, reminders of the past everywhere...
Since it was Sabbath, and since Hank wasn't here yet, I thought I would go to synagogue. Interestingly enough, the half dozen people I asked didn't know where a synagoge was! (For a change, The Lonely Planet had it right: "While the State of Israel hits the headlines, the state of Tel Aviv sits back with the cappucino!). There was one on the map, though, so I headed off on Allenby Street (all these names from history - Allenby thought he would just be a footnote in history, but he does have a street named after him!) to what they call The Great Synagogue.
I was actually quite nervous to go in. All I saw going in were wizened old men in prayer shawls. Wel, after I ginned up some Dutch courage (to use an expression which I have never used before and just came into my head) with a cappucino, I dutifully covered my head and went in.
As I feared, there were no women inside, but 15 or so men rattling around in this huge, beautiful synagogue. I hovered around the back - I saw the balcony, but didn't see anyone up there, so just stayed in the back of the sanctuary. Sure enough, the Jewish equivalent of the rector (I think) came up to me, and told me, politely (to my surprise1) that I could pray upstairs. After had clambered up there, I did find three women - one young and two very old - also praying.
As most of you know, I don't have very finely tuned feminist sensibilities, but I felt remarkably offended at being relegated to second class citizenship. That said, it was all remarkably familiar, and the rabbi had the voice of an angel - it was downright operatic! So I stayed for an hour and a half, thought about my parents, and the rest of my family, dead and alive, said the prayer for the dead, and left, feeling - good.
Keeping with the non-commercial nature of the day, I then joined up with a free Bauhaus tour. Apparently, Tel Aviv has more Bauhaus buildings than any other city in the world, and was declared a Unesco world Heritage site because of it in 2003. Of cours, the ideas - and the ideals - of the Bauhaus movement were brought from Germany to Israel by the Jewish architects fleeing Nazi persecution. A lot of the structures are dilapidated now, although many are being rehabbed. The architecture is characterized by horizontal lines, curved balconies, "thermometer" stairwells (stairwells with a row of vertical windows to provide light), and a complete absence of ornamentation.
There is so much new construction going on that they all the crane the national bird, so you can always see the new behind the old, but you get the idea!
One thing that the tour guide said was interesting personally. He called the Jews people of extremes - we were the extreme socialists, and now are the extreme capitalists. As some of you know, David used to call me Ms. Excess, because I always do things to extremes. I guess he knew whereof he spoke!
Anyway, it was a fascinating tour, albeit a long walk home. After a nap, I went up to the roof for happy hour, to wait for Hank's arrival. And there I will leave you, as - finally - Hank has smoked enough and I-padded enough, and may be ready for another day. I will bring you up to date later!
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