Israel's Good Name

Archive for the ‘Tel Aviv’ Category

Palmach Museum

In Israel, Tel Aviv on March 25, 2013 at 9:14 AM

Heading to the Eretz Israel Museum, coming from the Diaspora Museum, I found myself asking directions from a friendly guard. A few steps later, I turned around and noticed that the guard was guarding the Palmach Museum entrance, a museum I have always wanted to visit. The Palmach was the fighting force of the Haganah, the lead Jewish organisation in the British Mandate during the 1920 – 1940 period, and was originally established in cahoots with the British Army to help defend the Holy Land against the expected Nazi invasion. When Erwin Rommel (the “Desert Fox”), and his Afrika Corps, were defeated at El Alamein, Egypt, the British decided that the Palmach was no longer needed and attempted to disarm them. Realising the great benefits of having an army, the Haganah kept the Palmach alive, working on the sly. In 1947, the Palmach’s brigades were instrumental in the War of Independence and became the backbone of the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) once independence was declared.

The Palmach in training

The Palmach in training

Believing in early Zionist fundamentals, Palmach members engaged in both farm-work and military training, being extremely useful to the struggling Jews in those difficult times. Thus, the symbol of the Palmach is a sword framed by two stalks of wheat:

The Palmach logo

The Palmach logo

I entered the museum and requested admittance. The front desk informed me that, under most circumstances, admittance to the museum was done by reservation only. However, since I was in uniform (and people in uniform look like they know what they are doing and are often left to their own devices, which is pretty handy) and I was alone, they told me that I could join the next group that was starting in 25 minutes. What makes the Palmach Museum very unusual is that there aren’t any artefacts, it’s an experiential museum – a tour incorporating well-made sets and archived footage, linked together with a reenactment film taking the visitor on a journey through the seven years of the Palmach. Here’s a scene from the tour, a connecting path showing the training of the Palmach members in the rocky desert terrain.

''Palmach members training''

”Palmach members training”

My favourite set was the very first one, however I was unable to photographically capture it. A scene from early 1940s Tel Aviv, the set looked like a WWII-era Paris street corner, minus the Nazis. Even an “old-timey” bicycle was leaning against a metal guard rail, in front of a café’s large picture windows. The tour was given by a soldier girl and everybody had little translation machines that they held to their ears; most of the tour were Spanish speakers, with a handful of English speakers. I opted for the original Hebrew audio to accompany my visual experience, and was happy with my decision. The Palmach group on-screen, represented by modern-day actors and actresses, took us on a path that led to their eventual deployment in the War of Independence, after secret operations and capture by the British. Here is a sculptural depiction of Palmach soldiers using a radio during the war (with ammunition at a premium, desperate Palmach members had sometimes turned to rocks to help fend off the enemy):

''Palmach members in battle''

”Palmach members in battle”

The tour, which is 90-minutes long (including a 25-minute film), begins and ends at the memorial room, which commemorates all the Palmach fighters who lost their lives in the struggle for the Jewish State.

Palmach memorial

Palmach memorial

After the tour I asked the soldier who led the tour if there, by any chance, was more to see. She replied in the affirmative and took me to a room that houses drawers, hundreds of drawers. Inside each drawer is a binder with information on a Palmach member. Some drawers are larger than others, and upon opening, reveal more than just a binder. In one particular large drawer I flipped through a 1941 calender book and held an old pipe – memorabilia that once belonged to the Palmach member, presumably donated by the family. I found it very interesting and would have liked to spend a long time exploring the drawers, however, there was more to see. The next room the guide took me to was the photo collections room, dozens of photo albums divided by brigade, location and operation. I flipped through some and saw that the Palmach took far more photographs than I had ever imagined, even aerial footage. That particular room, the vast collection of photo albums, is not included in the museum’s admission fee; rather it is free to all. Who can pass up such an opportunity?

Great painting detailing a blockaded street in the 1940s

Great painting detailing a blockaded street in the 1940s

After flipping through some albums, I bid my thanks and farewell and headed out, walking in the direction of the next museum on my list – the Eretz Israel Museum.

Diaspora Museum

In Israel, Tel Aviv on March 24, 2013 at 6:38 AM

Last week I began something I had quite nearly forgotten about, vacation. Having passed my army truck driving course, I was able to secure some much desired vacation days and, to celebrate, I went to Tel Aviv to browse some museums. With two museums on my radar, I was psyched and departed early in the morning, taking the train down to Tel Aviv. In order to secure free transportation (one of my favourite things about the army), I wore my full “dress” uniform for the day. My first stop after disembarking from the train was the Diaspora Museum in the Tel Aviv University campus. Focusing on the saga of Jewish life throughout the Diaspora, the museum showcases important historical events as well as the day-to-day life of the exiled Jew.

The Diaspora Museum in the Tel Aviv University campus

The Diaspora Museum in the Tel Aviv University campus

I stepped up to the front desk and asked for an admission ticket, reaching into my pocket for some money. The kind people behind the desk told me that the museum was free to soldiers, and that it was the least they could do for “those who guard us while we sleep”. I confessed that I don’t really guard them, but yes, I do my fair share of guarding so I guess I’m entitled. I think it’s funny how there are some soldiers who barely do anything (I know one who serves a few hours a week) and then you have those in intense combat programs who go home once every 28 days, yet to most people a soldier is a soldier – at least I’m in the middle of the spectrum. Anyway, I waltzed on in without paying a agura and that pleased me. The first thing I saw as I began walking through the exhibitions was a recreation of the south panel of the Arch of Titus in Rome, the “spoils of war”:

Replica of the Arch of Titus

Replica of the Arch of Titus

The first interesting collection, that I really enjoyed, was a series of models of synagogues from around the world (from Cochin, India to Amsterdam, Holland and more). The craftsmanship is superb and many feature a cutout in the building which reveals the gorgeous interior. Some of the buildings, built so many years ago, are masterpieces and sadly, many have fallen to ruins. Here’s a really decadent one from Europe (Hungary, if I recall correctly):

Superb synagogue model

Superb synagogue model

After reveling in the minute accuracy of the models, I carried on and enjoyed more models of historic moments and places. The one drawback of the Diaspora Museum is that a lot of their displays are actually replicas, with the originals being in other museums. Due to the fact that the Diaspora is trying to convey a message, showing the trails of Jewish history whilst living in the Diaspora, the importance is in the appearance, not the value and uniqueness of each piece. So, to compensate, the museum has so many wonderfully done models, of all different materials. Here’s one of my favourite, a model of the final moments in the Spanish court before Ferdinand and Isabella signed the law that started the infamous Inquisition:

The final moments in the Spanish Court before the start of the Inquisition

The final moments in the Spanish Court before the start of the Inquisition

Another great model is of the Cairo Geniza (a geniza is where holy articles, scrolls and books are kept when they are worn out and no longer in use, often buried after some time). Built into the attic of the Ben Ezra Synagogue in Fostat (old Cairo) back in the year 882, the Geniza contained hundreds and hundreds of years of papers, books and scrolls. In the late 1800s, the contents of the Geniza began to appear around the world, now divided up to museums and collections. As there are estimated to be some 300,000 manuscripts, the Diaspora Museum does have a little handful of them on display. Here, the Geniza:

Model of the Cairo Geniza

Model of the Cairo Geniza

One particular model/recreation is full sized, the Rashi Chapel in Worms, Germany. Built in 1624, the Chapel was built onto the existing Worms Synagogue, where Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzhaki, a famous medieval French rabbi and scholar, pioneer of commentary on the Bible and Talmud) studied in his youth.

Replica of The Rashi Chapel in Worms, Germany

Replica of The Rashi Chapel in Worms, Germany

Another exhibit that I found to be interesting was a 12-part collection of the modern-day Israeli citizen. Each of them coming from a different land, and each a different trade, these twelve individuals are a slice of the life here in Israel – a rainbow of colours and background, a palette of traditions and legacies. Towards the end of the main museum house, at the end of the dark hallway, was a cutout of a menorah with an artsy image of Israel behind it – symbolism, I believe, of a paradisaical Land of Israel reached only by the use of the menorah, the symbol of the Temple, the ideal Jewish connection to religious life.

The Holy Land through the menorah cutout

The Holy Land through the menorah cutout

With that I walked out and found the temporary exhibition “Threads of Silk – The Story of Bukharan Jewry”, which was interesting and colourful. After that, I ran through an art gallery and then headed outside. Finding a kosher place to eat, I grabbed a grilled pizza sandwich and hurried through the vast campus, headed for the next museum – the Eretz Israel Museum.

Army Trip: Lehi Museum & The Olympic Experience

In Israel, Tel Aviv on January 13, 2013 at 5:20 AM

Almost as soon as I returned to my base after Shabbat we were told that we were going on another trip – educational, mind you – with the destination being a secret. I wasn’t feeling my best on the morning of the trip but I tagged along nonetheless and in the end was glad to have done so. Still not knowing where we were headed, I finally overheard my commanding officer ask the bus driver if he knew how to get to the Lehi Museum in Tel Aviv, somewhere I’ve been wanting to go for a while now.



Whether the driver knew how to get there or not, approximately two hours later we were walking through the streets of Tel Aviv headed for the Lehi Museum, located in an obscure building in the Florentin neighbourhood. The fascinating part about the seemingly odd location of the museum is that it contains the apartment of Lehi’s founder and leader Avraham “Yair” Stern, his final home before he was murdered by undercover British policeman on February 12th 1942.

Avraham "Yair" Stern, founder of Lehi

Avraham “Yair” Stern, founder of Lehi

Stepping further back in time, Lehi was founded in 1940 as a resistance group against primarily the British Mandate government, which according to Lehi was the biggest hitch in the plans for a Jewish homeland. Far more radical than the other groups (such as Haganah and Etzel), Lehi was also known as the “Stern Gang” and carried out numerous attacks on both the British troops and international diplomats, earning themselves hefty bounties offered by the British government. At the museum I learned that, in the hands of the British, many of the captured members of Lehi were sent to various countries in Africa as expulsion, including Kenya and Sudan, once it became clear that local imprisonment wasn’t enough of a deterrent. One story that our guide told us was of two Lehi operatives who were captured and kept in a local prison. The two men decided that they would blow themselves up, along with as many British soldiers as possible, on the day of their execution. With copious amounts of ingenuity, they constructed a grenade inside of an orange, lining the inner walls of the peel with shrapnel. However, much to their dismay, a rabbi offered to be with them at the gallows so they had no choice but to scrap their plan lest they blow up the rabbi as well. So, the night before their would-be hanging, the two Lehi operatives stood together, orange grenade against their chests, and ended their lives.

Mock-up of the orange grenade

Mock-up of the orange grenade

On the top floor of the museum is the aforementioned apartment where Avraham Stern was killed. Kept exactly as it was some seventy years ago, the room’s only modern accessory is a flat-screen TV which depicts the story of his assassination in A/V form. I’ve always wondered when visiting cities with historical significance as to the previous “happenings” that may have occurred at that location fifty, a hundred, or even 2,000 years ago. I’m sure there are hundreds of people living in Tel Aviv who own apartments once used as safe houses and meeting rooms by the Palmach or Etzel, for example, who spend their whole lives never knowing what incredible stories the walls could tell should they be granted the power of speech. However, despite the Zionist glory and grandeur, Lehi was definitely not exempt from human losses and this remembrance room located beside Avraham Stern’s old room portrays the fallen from Lehi’s ranks:

Rememberance room for the fallen Lehi members

Rememberance room for the fallen Lehi members

As soon as our tour was over we were given a few minutes to poke about and then we were rushed out. From the museum we walked through the streets of Tel Aviv, in some of the strongest wind I’ve ever encountered, until we boarded our tour bus. I thought that our trip was over and that we were heading back to base but I was wrong… Next destination: The Olympic Experience:

The Olympic Experience

The Olympic Experience

Just to firmly announce my beliefs – something I tend not to get into on this blog, I am fundamentally against the Olympics. I don’t agree with the whole idea, especially its Hellenistic founding, and I think that every time Israel participates in the modern Olympics the outcome is more bad than good (ie BBC scandal of 2012, Munich Massacre of 1972, etc). That being said, I still must hand it to the designers of The Olympic Experience for creating a very interesting showcase – particularly the audio-visual presentation, which is state-of-the-art.

An interesting screen

An interesting screen

There were some notable parts, which I enjoyed, such as the video about the Munich Massacre which included an interview with Esther Roth-Shachamorov who was one of the female athletes representing Israel that year. Our guides were quite enthusiastic about the Olympics and several of us tried the hands-on activities, as if to compare oneself to the physically prepared bodies of the athletes that participate in the Olympics.

Learning about the early days of the Olympics

Learning about the early days of the Olympics

However, despite the glamour of the Olympics and the ultra-modern design of the “Experience”, the topic didn’t appeal to me much so I am at a loss as to what to write. If the Olympics does, in fact, interest you, then by all means, go check this place out. But if you share in my beliefs, perhaps you’d agree that the Lehi Museum was the highlight of the day.

Until next trip (which at this rate may be this week)!

Army Trip: IDF History Museum, Yad VaShem & Ammunition Hill

In Israel, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv on November 11, 2012 at 6:22 AM

During the course of the army, no matter how long one serves, he or she is going to be taken on a variety of trips around Israel. Many of these trips are to historical locations, others are culturally oriented and some are just random trips. This past week, still in basic training, we had the opportunity of visiting three interesting sites: the IDF History Museum in Tel Aviv, Yad VaShem Holocaust museum and Ammunition Hill both in Jerusalem. Due to the fact that I am in basic training, photography was difficult so I have culled most of the following photos from the Internet. The first of these trips was to the IDF History Museum in Tel Aviv, a museum I’ve been wanting to visit for some time now.

Armoured buses

We toured several exhibits of the large museum accompanied by a knowledgeable docent. Our platoon of 27 soldiers and four commanders/commanding officer was joined by similar numbers from two other army bases, the Central and Southern counterparts to our Northern base. We strolled through the museum’s grounds en masse, observing the numerous military artifacts.

Willys Jeep from the War of Independence

As we went from building to building, the docent relayed many interesting stories and historical tidbits which I found to be quite interesting. I would have gladly stayed much longer, to properly enjoy the museum but I was just a pawn on someone else’s schedule so I was limited to what was offered.

Museum display

We were rushed out of the museum prematurely and had to return to our respective bases but I plan on going back and catching up on what I’ve been remiss on seeing all these years that I’ve been here.

The next trip we took was to Jerusalem where we visited two sites, well really it was 1.5 due to time constrictions, and then headed back to the base. The most famous Holocaust museum, Yad VaShem, was first and there we had a great guide who zipped about from exhibit to exhibit pointing out the poignant details and shedding light on the great tragedy that many people don’t know much about. To clarify that last sentence, there are a few Bedouins and Druze sprinkled into our ranks, some of them volunteers and others conscripted along with the Jews. Here are two Muslim Bedouins from my platoon, the one on the left is quite the jester and told me after I took his photo that I can tell my parents I took a picture of an Arab. Speaking with a heavily accented Hebrew, that remark was quite humorous and we all laughed, some more awkwardly than others.

Two Muslim Bedouins in my platoon

Once inside the museum I was pleasantly surprised to see how much interest some of the Arab soldiers were taking in the sad tale of carnage and destruction. One particular Bedouin was quite engaged in the terrible stories the guide told us, but he wasn’t the only gentile in the building. Walking slightly behind us was an Italian admiral, his sidekick senior officer, an Italian non-com and the Israeli party of a naval captain, a lieutenant and a seaman taking pictures. This entourage was quite interesting to watch and I had to ask my commander which navy the foreigners were hailing from.

Yad VaShem memorial (Photo: Adam Jones, Flickr)

Despite the fact that this was my second time in Yad VaShem, I had an interesting experience. An American woman came over to us and seeked out an English speaker. Once I was her captive audience she began to tell me about how her father recently passed away and that after his death she found pictures and letters that pointed her past to the Holocaust, something she didn’t know beforehand. She showed me the photos of her family members and then ran off, not wanting to get too separated from her tour group.

Break time outside Yad VaShem

After the museum tour we went out and had lunch. During that time I took the liberty of getting a photo of me with my “dress” uniform on (there are two types of uniforms: dress and work):

Standing at Yad VaShem

After Yad VaShem we headed over to Ammunition Hill, an important battle site which helped secure the full re-capture of Jerusalem during the Six Day War in 1967. Due to time constraint we only got to see the interactive video about the war and the battle that took place below our feet. Having already seen the actual site (and not the video) when my Yeshiva here took us to Jerusalem, I was satisfied. However, I must say, the video presentation at Ammunition Hill is absolutely amazing, a work of art.

Ammunition Hill (Photo: Simnatic, Flickr)

As the video played lights and lasers danced on a large metal topographical display of 1967 Jerusalem. The fierce battles between the Israeli and Jordanian forces were shown out in full colour, the Israeli blue gradually conquering the Jordanian red. As we watched the light-created tanks climb up hills and enter the populated areas we looked up and saw actual footage from the battles for Jerusalem. The full excellence of the presentation is hard to put on paper, so to speak, so I strongly recommend a visit.

Tank from the battle (Photo: Simnatic, Flickr)

After quickly rushing back to our special white army bus, the non-com who brought us drove us back to our base for an early bedtime – something to look forward to in the army!

Hummus & Diamonds

In Israel, Tel Aviv on September 4, 2012 at 12:35 PM

Here goes another tale of Tel Aviv, the home of hummus and diamonds, and the surrounding experiences as told with words and pictures. I was in Jerusalem already, on business, and grabbed a bagel from the Central Bus Station for breakfast as I headed towards Tel Aviv. I confirmed by phone the location of the IDC (Israel Diamond Centre) Diamond Museum, which I’ve been wanting to visit for a while now, and once in Tel Aviv grabbed another bus to Ramat Gan – just a few minutes away from the Savidor Mercaz train station. There, looming over me and scraping the sky, the tall buildings of the famed Diamond District greeted me, occasionally shading me from the late morning sun as I sought out the museum. As an interesting side point, the roundish building below, on the right side of the photo, is the tallest building in Israel.

Skyscrapers in the Diamond District

Beneath the immense buildings I found an array of jewelry shops and restaurants and asked some security guards for directions to the diamond museum, whatever the name was. It was easy to find and I stepped into the Harry Oppenheimer Diamond Museum operated/owner by either the IDC or the IDI, I keep seeing conflicting reports, unless they are both the same group. Regardless, I paid my entrance fee – which was reduced because I told them I am going to the army in less than two months – and had a personal guide instruct me on the correct uses of the little informational video stands.

Fake diamond on display

At first I examined the new special exhibition of silver Judaica, not really connected to diamonds but there are different special exhibitions and this was the current one. Moving along the rooms I started the diamond manufacturing self-activated tour and watched the first of three videos explaining the path a diamond takes from the creation to the gem we recognise. Along with the videos there were various tools, both historical and modern, which are used to work the rough diamond. At the end of the stages there is the finished product and so, as expected, there were showcases of loose diamonds and jewelry encrusted with diamonds:

Real tiny diamonds on display

One of the coolest diamond piece on display was the De Beers Hourglass, a 24-karat gold hourglass with over 2,000 tiny diamonds acting as sand flowing through the hourglass encased in some unidentifiable liquid. It was really cool, however not an accurate hourglass, but the photos I took didn’t come out too well (dark room and dark display behind glass). From there I went to the main video, activated it myself and sat by my lonesome in the viewing room, looking up at the three screens. The video took me through the final stage of the diamond transformation, the selling or brokering of the gem. In the course of the video I learned some rather interesting little tidbits about the diamond industry. One, half of the diamonds sold in the US pass through Tel Aviv at some point or another. Two, at nearly every diamond deal – regardless of the location – a handshake and the words “Mazal U’Bracha” compose the traditional mutual agreement. So, in the video (all performed by actors, I checked with the museum), when “the Chinese” are buying diamonds from the Israelis they all say “Mazal U’Bracha” as they seal the deal. Here is a snapshot just seconds before that glorious moment:

Closing the deal with the Chinese

When I finished the video, having learnt some trivia about the local diamond industry – including the fact that Tel Aviv is one of the biggest diamond centres in the world, following only Antwerp and New York (I believe) – I examined the rest of the museum, the collections of other gems and semi-precious stones all left in their rough state, and headed outside. From there I walked into the IDC showroom and examined the finished products up for sale. As an interesting note, none of the Tel Aviv diamonds are blood diamonds. I did “sneak into” a special showroom section and consequently was forced to leave that special room and continue my browsing on the general floor. When I had seen enough of the millions of dollars of diamonds I left and searched for some more diamond locations. After nagging some guards I was reassured that there was no more to be seen save the scatterings of diamond retail and jewelry stores – but those I’ve already seen. As I was leaving I saw several chasidim heading into one of the buildings – no doubt diamond cutters as the chasidim have that in their blood, and become fabulously wealthy from the diamond industry. So with that final flourish, seeing the workers and the trade, I hopped back on a bus and and headed for one of Israel’s best and/or most famous hummus joints, an ideal lunch for a traveler in Tel Aviv.

The hummus joint in my sights was Hummus Ashkara, recommended to me by several people and also featured on many of the “Best Hummus in Israel” lists that can be found online. Most, if not all, of the other famous/best hummus joints are owned by Arabs and do not have kosher certification, thus I cannot eat there. This one, to my joy, was 100% kosher and open for business. I headed for the Tel Aviv Port area and found the hummus I was looking for. Behind the counter, dishing the hummus, was a nice [Jewish] religious young man.

Hummus Ashkara

This particular hummus joint, unlike the famous Arab ones in Akko, Abu Gosh  and Jaffa, is open 24 hours a day. I heard somewhere that traditional Arab hummus joints are only open in the morning and close at about noon, this one apparently doesn’t follow the traditional Arab way. I sat down and the perky Middle Eastern waiter asked me what I’d like to eat. I told him I wanted the dish that makes this place famous so he asked me if I was hungry. I said sure and he pointed to the “Ashkara dish” on the menu with many words of recommendation spewing from his lips. I agreed and he came back in record time with a bowl of hummus and two fresh pitas in a wooden bowl. Here it is, the famous hummus from the famous hummus joint:

My bowl of hummus

Now it may look unfamiliar to some so let me break it down. The beige paste around the edges is the hummus, the brown soup-like ingredient is beans and those spheroids are chickpeas. Also on top is a dash of spice, olive oil and perhaps lemon juice. Partially hidden is a whole hardboiled egg split into quarters. As I apprehensively scooped some hummus+ up with my torn pita piece, I began my journey – my first time doing the pita and hummus meal at a restaurant. It was exciting at first but then I noticed that there was only about 40% hummus in the bowl, the rest of it bean puree and eggs. I think that next time I’ll go with the hummus and tehina plain, they can keep the bean puree and eggs and give them to another customer. When I was done, having needed to “order” a third pita, I had mixed feelings. I think it could have been better but by all means, if you (dear reader) have never had hummus in a famous hummus joint then do so.

After my hummus and pita lunch I decided to walk down Dizengoff Street and see some of Tel Aviv at a slow pace. I entered into some interesting shops, one selling really expensive pens (one costed ₪22,500 which is about $5,600) and other one that sold interesting tobaccos and cigars, from which I bought neither. Along with the interesting stores there are also scores of wedding dress shops and Dizengoff has become the place to go for brides looking for a dress.


After walking at least halfway down the entire Dizengoff I came upon the famous Dizengoff Square and the landmark fountain up above, “Fire and Water” by Yaacov Agam built in 1986, having taken the artist ten years to build it. At night the fountain looks cooler and is supposed to shoot fire and water upwards but it has fallen into disrepair some and I do not know if the fire still erupts.

”Fire and Water” at Dizengoff Square

Beyond Dizengoff Square, going even further south, I came upon Dizengoff Centre. Basically it is just an extensive mall complex so I kept going, heading for Rothschild Boulevard. There, on one of the streets, I stopped and got myself a cool, refreshing drink at a fruit juice joint. I got a freshly squeezed lemon and mint drink blendered with ice to create a delicious beverage perfect for sipping on in the muggy Tel Aviv heat.

Lemon and mint drink

With cold, dripping beverage in hand I walked the length of Rothschild and then turned onto the charming Allenby Street where I nabbed a bus to the train station. On the way we passed by Rabin Square, where Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated the day after my 5th Gregorian birthday. From the bus to the train, then a layover in Akko and then another bus and I was home. I am eager to go back and continue my explorations of Israel’s second biggest city, Tel Aviv.

Exploring Tel Aviv-Yafo

In Israel, Tel Aviv on August 2, 2012 at 11:34 AM

Wednesday (Day #3) was dedicated to Tel Aviv and Yafo (Jaffa) so it was intended to be a somewhat relaxing day, free of transportation woes. What transpired was a long day of exploration and enjoyment, however there were transportation woes as well. I had in mind to join the free walking tour of Yafo at 10:00 AM but the bus that was supposed to take me there decided not to show… so my plans were changed. When I did make it to Yafo, my first notable stop was this marvelous antiques store, with so many things I wanted to buy (including a typewriter and a banker’s lamp):

Antiques for sale!

Beyond the store, heading for the Old City of Jaffa and the Mediterranean Sea, I came upon the Jaffa “flea market”. I don’t like that name – it was more like a “awesome old things market”. I did make a small purchase there, and received a cup of cold water as well.

The Jaffa ”flea market”

From the market I reached the famous clock tower, what used to be the centre of town, and took a few photos of it. It is interesting to note that there are a few of these clock towers all built by the Turks and scattered around Israel, one of them in Akko (which oddly never works no matter how often they try to fix it…).

Jaffa clock tower

Beyond the clock tower, on a little hill, is the Old City of Yafo. A picturesque little town, similar to Tzfat (Safed), offers extreme heat and humidty… and old buildings too, as indicated by this nice man:

Welcome to the Old City of Yafo

Having been in Be’er Sheva the previous day, the humidity levels were shockingly different. I was feeling assaulted by the harsh elements, as was, no doubt, everyone around me, so I took shelter in the visitor’s centre. This cannon, “parked” outside, is from the Ottoman Empire times, somewhere between 1515 and 1917:

Historical cannon

Here is a photograph of the peaceful side alleys of Yafo’s Old City, nearly identical to those of Tzfat:

Tzfat-like alleys in Yafo

After exploring the shaded alleys, I headed out to the port area and was greeted with more heat and humidity – but also great gusts of cool air coming in off the water. Here, taken beyond the port, rounding the corner of the “cape”, is Tel Aviv and the green-blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea:

The green sea and the buildings of Tel Aviv

Climbing back up towards the Old City, I found a place to do a short panoramic shot, which came out just a tad askew:

Short panoramic of the view from Yafo

Back on the road I came across something rather peculiar. It is a large abandoned building with arched ceilings and a large population of giant fruit bats. To add more peculiarity, these humanoid statues made from palm pieces… and weird sets of wings swinging from the ceiling. I was really curious, and wanted to go inside, but the gate was locked and the bats flapped and screeched out of my reach:


As soon as I had seen just about everything there is to see in Yafo, I headed north and found the Etzel Museum. Dealing for the most part with the Jewish resistance and defence operations in the area in the late 1940s, the location of the museum directly ties into the stories and exhibits inside. The museum, built on ruins from a neighbourhood that was the site of the historical battle for control of Jaffa:

The Etzel Museum

Once inside, cool and refreshed, I indulged myself with historical data – the battles, the operations, the hierarchy and the strife with the other Jewish groups. Those times must have been quite trying!

An Etzel trainee

After the Etzel Museum, I found HaTachana, the really old train station that has been converted into a complex of restaurants, gift shops and exhibits – a popular place for tourists and locals alike. I prefer the historical aspects but they have been mostly redone and have lost some of their antique appeal. Built in 1892, the train station was the beginning of modern transportation in Israel.


After HaTachana I entered the chic Neve Tzedek neighbourhood and strolled around. I sat down on a bench and studied some maps, the sound of music emanating from a dance studio across the park. After a little while, duly exploring the area, I chanced upon this cute stencil graffitti. It reads, in English: “This is not you, it is me” spoken by the Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu, with a sly grin on his face:

Street art

My next stop was the Shalom Tower where, according to one of the information pamphlets I picked up, I could watch the sun set from an observatory. The guard informed me that the observatory has been closed for some time now and that I would not be able to watch the sunset from way up high. So, in a seemingly mindless manner, I found a redeeming feature in the tower – a photographic collection of the area in the 1920s and 30s (my favourite era). Here is a old photograph of the photographer, whose name slipped my mind, sitting on the beach with Yafo in the background.

The olden days…

After seeing the collection, a gem hidden in an obsure building, I headed for the water to see the sun go down. I found a pleasant area with rocks breaking the surf, and settled in for the show. Here, in the middle stages of sunset, a wind surfer takes to the waves, giving me a pretty nice picture:

Wind surfing at sunset

With the sun gone and the full moon making its presence, I took my travels to the Allenby and Rothschild streets – getting one of the last buses back to my hosts’ quarters in Ramat Aviv. All in all, a long and eventful day of exploration, research and travel – a success story.