Having eaten breakfast close to our hotel at Bistro Masada on the Tuesday, we decide to heed Josh's advice and on Wednesday morning go for a walk in search of his top 'locals' recommendation, Bar Ochel. Neither James or Andy have slept brilliantly but are determined to experience a bit more of Tel Aviv in the brief time they have there, so we head off along Ben Yehuda street and then up Allenby, Google maps guiding us as we turn right into the bustling street stalls of Carmel Market.
Whether it's pomegranates or underpants, iPhone covers or ice cream, spices or saucepans, there's a seller hawking their wares in the bustling, tarpaulin-covered walkways we wander down. Having not brought swim shorts, James bargains his way into a pair whilst Andy and I snap photos and stride on ahead, ending up at an eaterie that reveals itself to be Bar Ochel, the place we’ve been looking for.
Carmel Market
Serving a more authentic (ie: bargain) shakshuka we settle at tables and gaze at its hippy Euro-meets-reggae vibes, nattering about the state of the music industry and sharing tales about PRs and journalists as is de rigeur on these trips. My painful left ear from yesterday seems to have healed, drip-fed by the drops I've been administering from the pharmacy on a regular basis. Once fed and caffeine'd up we meander back in ferocious sun, to grab our beachwear and head for the sea.
Towels laid on the sand, Andy and I strip off and run into the water, and it's magnificent. All the Alice In Chains team were agreeing yesterday about the balmy temperature of the sea here, and with the exception of Brazil, this is easily the warmest I've experienced, an almost bath-like experience where you can just walk straight into the sea without any shock to the system at all. Tel Aviv's beaches have a gentle swell, controlled by the breakers a couple of hundred metres off shore, which means swimming is accompanied by bobbing waves and the occasional crasher which makes the whole experience a lot of fun. I could stay here for hours!
Spice fun
Sadly work calls and after Tuesday’s round of interviews and gig, Wednesday is photoshoot day, starting once again with Jerry, this time in Todd's bedroom where local make-up artist Nirit, a rather strange lady who comes across as both timid and austere in equal measures, applies powders and creams. First shoot done, James, Andy and I have lunch by the pool before we head back to Caeserea, with Nirit in tow, and Josh joining us once more, for band shoots and the triumphant second performance.
On Thursday morning I awake early and go for a run, heading north this time along the Schlomo Lahat Promenade, past the orthodox bathing area, the gay beach, the municipal pool and Metsitsim Beach to the North Port of Tel Aviv and back again; a sweaty, gruelling endeavour but one that Tel Aviv's citizens seem to do with ease. As I huff and puff along, millennials and septuagenarians alike do the same, glistening in the morning sun, whilst commuters on electric-powered scooters and bikes glide past me nonchalantly.
Beach scenes
I have breakfast at Bistro Masada once more with James and Andy before seeing them off in a taxi to the airport, having booked three extra nights here by myself to explore a bit of Israel, unaware that these three nights are the mere start of my solo time in the Holy Land. With a backlog of work building up I spend a few hours answering emails and making calls back to the UK before venturing down to the beach to read a few pages of a book in the shade and bob up and down in the waves for half an hour, relishing the solitude after a few weeks of non-stop sociability.
That evening I order a cab and head to Jaffa, the 30 minute walk reduced to a mere five minute air-conditioned ride that drops me at the clock tower. Heading back to the square James and I walked through on Monday evening I buy a couple of souvenirs and then retrace our steps back towards the restaurants around the flea market, settling myself at Raisa where I watch the world go by and catch up on work, whilst eating a dish of chickpeas and tahini.
Markets in Jaffa
An evening wander in search of North Abraxxas, one of AIC's manager's recommendations, takes me from Jaffa into the heart of modern Tel Aviv and Rothschild Blvd. The restaurant is rammed so I continue my walk onwards towards Allenby and soon come to Port Said, a bar and restaurant opposite the Grand Synagogue, which has also been tipped by a number of people.
Vibey and exciting, it's got tables outside full of hipsters and diners and inside by the bar and kitchen the walls are covered in vinyl. I grab the last available seat at the bar and order a mojito, whilst perusing the menu. A sticky and dark ratatouille, with a hard boiled egg is the name of the game, alongside a bottle of beer; the night time heat demanding an ice cool drink to wash down the dish.
It's a fantastic bar, filled with gorgeous people but I'm tired and happy and ready for bed, mindful that tomorrow my real adventures begin so I meander along Allenby and Ben Yehuda, seeking solace in sheets and air conditioning before my early alarm call to venture into the desert.
