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This is Tel Aviv1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Itinerary | Home
The port of Tel Aviv fell into disarray in the 1960s, when the nearby deepwater port of Ashdod emerged as a better shipping alternative. This area, just north of the seemingly endless stretch of beaches that end at the ancient port of Old Jaffa, was basically abandoned until the late 1990s, when a multimillion-dollar rejuvenation project was launched. By 2005, it had emerged as the most popular quarter in the city. Rundown hangars that once housed oranges are now blocks of shops, galleries, publishing and graphic art workspaces and dozens of restaurants, bars and clubs, all linked by buildings and a promenade patio system that stretches end to end. One of the bars is named after a local mental institution; it’s got a South Beach vibe, all open air with palm trees and sand floor. Next is Whisky à Go-Go, this one with steely good looks. Others have situation-appropriate names, like Speedo and Sea Breeze Spa & Bar, and boast low-slung chaises with overstuffed pillows and stubby tables overloaded with icy drinks and condensation rings. What’s especially striking is that on a Wednesday night, every last one of them is packed. I think, This is the Israel you don’t see on the six o’clock news. Earlier in the evening, with my yellow cab inching through the sticky October air toward the port area, the Namal, Reuven, my amicable taxi driver, had been filling me in on what’s been going on in his city since I’ve been gone. “I take people to the airport at 5 a.m. and all the clubs, steak houses – all full,” he enthuses. “Nobody is thinking to go home before morning. See that place?” He points to a modern pizza parlour to our left. “See that place?” He points to the Parisian-chic café to our right. “That one is open 24 hours.” Reuven says the restaurants with their “gourmet foods” are so good “but not cheap anymore. Many young ones make a lot of money in high tech, and they’re spending it.” Toward the end of my trip, I’m already reminiscing about its beginnings. Out on the terrace of Hotel Mizpe Hayamim, a Relais & Châteaux wellness spa in the Upper Galilee, I was polishing off a bottle of Yarden Cabernet Sauvignon with Niso, the driver for my first two days in the country. As we sat under starry skies amid floral Galilee breezes, Niso, a bear of a man, was giving me the lowdown on how to make the most of my time in Tel Aviv before we headed there in the morning: “The Namal, I take the British tourists there and they can’t believe it. London, Amsterdam – it beats them all. People come to Israel and at first they’re afraid. They think it’s like another world.” It is, and it isn’t. Write to us: letters@enroutemag.net |
