The overiding theme that has been repeated in myriad fashion throughout this voyage is the way that creativity, combined with desperation, has allowed the state of Israel to survive and thrive against the type of odds that would make a casino operator salivate. The extraordinary mingles with the ordinary to produce a unique society, awash in contradiction, that continues to manifest itself. Often the little things don’t go as planned, but through an inexplicable force, everything works out. This is not a new phenomenon that can only be traced back to 1948, but rather a transcendental element that coloured the history of this magical part of the world. No huge diatribe on the amazingness of this country, rather it permeates the narrative.
A prison constructed by the British to incarcerate the Jewish resistance forces back in the 30’s and 40’s was based in Acco. For additional entertainment, they would hang the occasional prisoner. After independence, Israeli archaeologists excavated the jail unearthing a Crusader fort built in the 11th century as a stronghold against naval invasions.
The notion of any ship being able to secure a berth near the fortified city walls seems remote when viewing the action of the surf. The milky white froth of the Mediterranean cascades against the walls, raising 10 meter high flows of spume, seems discouraging enough.
and, although we were only there for three, we would have been happy to spend another 998 Arabian nights in its luxurious confines. In addition, the hotel owner was primarily a restauranteur. He was the chef and creative sprit behind one of Israel’s finest eateries, known as Uri Buri.
Situated a mere sixty steps from our Effendi hotel, the quality and preparation of the victuals were supposedly without peer. Unfortunately pier was required since all of the produce had spent the earlier part of the day swimming. Needless to say, we did not indulge since the net result would have been Bruce Buri.
or as it is known by the locals, Yaffo m’od. From sand dunes to a modern city of 2 million, in less than a century, Tel Aviv is one of those magnificent miracles that define modern Israel. Lori and I are not big on the nighclub scene, nor the beaches, which is the calling card of Tel Aviv. There are geographical, cultural and historical elements that segregate this party city from the Rios of this world.
Whether it was Libby, bringing us breakfast and showing us pictures of her little boy Adam, or Ivnan sharing little ins and outs of the area, the Alma was the perfect foil for the potentially overwhelming hustle and bustle of TA. For further info on a hotel that we would prefer to keep to ourselves, check out my review on Trip Advisor. It will be entitled Alma Loving (can’t help myself).
Aside from hosting the Technion, one of the world’s finest universities, and being an early destination of the Templers – group of Germans who decided to settle in Israel in the early 20th century to get ring side seats for the second coming, and having a bunch of industry, not much to report.
a small quaint restaurant like a thousand others in this country with the tragic and unenviable distinction of being the target of a female suicide bomber who turned out the lights of two entire families, most of a third as well as random customers enjoying a peaceful Shabbat lunch about eleven years ago. I felt a need to eat there (food was so-so) as a symbolic gesture of solidarity and a physical statement of refusing to be cowed by those attempting to modify my behaviour. It was a meal that brought agonizingly close the randomness and inexplicability of life and horror in this unique nation.
we sifted and dug through rocks and dirt, uncovering shards of pottery, charred wood and small animal bones.
Gathered together and analyzed, the archeologists have put forth a comprehensive history of a past civilization.They were traders in olive oil, had sophisticated water systems and, based on how cleanly the bones we found were picked, Mrs. Maccabee must have made quite a Friday night chicken dinner.