Tel Aviv

... if C. will wake up!

We did eventually get to Tel Aviv.  Compared to Jerusalem the entrance to city via the bus station was like 'Brave New World' - all grey concrete and gaudy signage.  The impression lasted as we walked towards the centre of the city via a park.  A used syringe on the ground, litter, seedy gatherings and under the sparse trees, drunken and passed out were the failed aliyah-ots - ethiopian black jews who had obviously not successfully assimilated into the promised land.  We wondered who was in control there - perhaps the drug lords and not the ubiquitous police (who seemed to be ubiquitously absent in this squallid suburb).

Tel Aviv is a new city set along the coastal beaches north of Jaffa.  It has grown haphazardly in spurts - and the building material of choice is rapidly erected concrete and not the hewn stone of Jerusalem.  In central Tel Aviv the architecture while still often shabby had taken enough time to allow beauty to emerge.  There were the pretty 1920's art deco apartments and public buildings, and the area around Nahalat Binyamin had a very cuban feel, with the homes looking like old Havana.

We ate chocolate at the 'Chocolate by the bald man' (been yearning to try it) and then continued down Sheinken St towards the mediterranean beaches.

The beaches and blue sea were beautiful.  Shining and (relatively clean) - young tanned israelis playing makot, fashionistas holding a fashion shoot with such young and underdressed models, a disturbing lack of concern about kosher anything (the market sells fresh pork!!!) and the beachside restaurants sell seafood.  we drank wine under a beach umbrella, and thought homewards.

On returning for our last night in Jerusalem, in the twilight the moon was white and huge in the pale blue sky.  the city looked sad (that we were going) but C.  said it wasn't the city, it was me. all the shutters were hanging in despair.  the stones were tinged gray with melancholy ... even the buses seemed to groan as they trawled up and down the ascents.  We had one last meander through the old city and then turned just in time to catch the last arab bus to the mt of olives.

Jerusalem's darkened streets and plazas and her jaded watchmen.