a Book
Postcard from
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TEL AVIV By Laur Gelder
Icons from www.flaticon.com - Postcard by Freepik; Web by Pixel perfect
Miam vibes
If you sit on the beach in Barcelona you won’t need to strain hard to hear the dulcet tones of a Brit, or 100, close by. But in Tel Aviv, Israel’s – and surely the Mediterranean’s – hippest city, I heard none. The city is called the Miami of the Middle East and no wonder. Retro tower blocks extend right down to the sand, where palm trees, gaudy beach huts and the rainbow façade of the Dan Tel Aviv Hotel – which has hosted Madonna and The Rolling Stones – create an Instagrammer’s dream. Beautiful people parade the sun-soaked promenade on foot or skates. Most Brits don’t come to Tel Aviv for the beach though. It’s very much a city break destination, and a 24hour party place if you want it to be. My favourite place was Carmel Market. Open since the 1920s, the Shuk Hacarmel, as locals know it, sells clothes and electronics along with piles of colourful fruit and vegetables and tempting street food. The smell of freshly-squeezed pomegranate juice and a persuasive man selling falafel decided my lunch.
Biblical views
Jaff is 4,000 years old
Most of Tel Aviv’s architecture is modern – it has the world’s biggest collection of Bauhaus buildings – but keep walking south along the promenade and it starts to feel more like the Holy Land. Jaffa is thought to be the oldest constantly occupied port in the world, having
Hit leafy Rothchild Boulevard for Bauhaus buildings, coffee kiosks and hip bars and restaurants
views of modern Tel Aviv
The tiny square under Jaffa’s clock tower has an Arab bakery selling bagels and pastries
existed for 4,000 years. Its cobbled streets and honey stone alleyways are now home to modern art galleries, silversmiths and trendy bistros, but St. Peter’s Church is built on the remains of a crusader castle. After wandering amongst Jaffa Flea Market’s jumble stalls selling old records, vintage clothes, books and antiques, I stopped in at Dr Shakshuka. Battered pots and pans hung from the restaurant’s stone ceiling and the shakshuka (eggs baked in a spiced tomato sauce) came in a hot skillet. As the sun sank into the Mediterranean, I stood on the sea wall under the spearmint minaret of the Al-Bahr Mosque, caught between two worlds – Jaffa’s biblical port and the glittering skyline of Tel Aviv.
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