The next few days take on a familiar routine; up early for a run along the sea front, or a workout at an open air gym on the beach, followed by a meditation looking at the waves, phone calls with British Airways and my travel insurance to establish when I can fly again, brunch at Bistro Masada eating shakshuka and tahini, the afternoon sat in my hotel room doing emails and work calls and then back to Bistro Masada to work through the sunset and have dinner.

After three nights of routine, I decide that no matter how nice the Bistro is, I need a change of scenery. So on Wednesday night, and following the recommendation of Alice In Chain’s manager the week before, I walk along Rothschild St, with its buildings designed in the 1930s by German architects of the Bauhaus movement, towards North Abraxass, the much-hyped restaurant on Lilienblum in the swish, banking part of town. This time I manage to bag the only free seat at the bar, with the chefs in the kitchen on full display, and order an Israeli merlot whilst perusing the menu.

Next to me is Instagram model taking hundreds of selfies and photoshopping them relentlessly and a Zurich banker who tells me he comes here whenever he’s in Tel Aviv. To a soundtrack of banging hip hop I eat a spicy platter of dips and chillis, and ‘Battata’, baked sweet potato served in a brown paper bag that you eat with your hands. It’s all very delicious and I wander back through the buzzing crowds of revellers and diners, enjoying being stranded in such a cool city.

By Thursday however I’m starting to get desperate to come home. I’ve not slept brilliantly, my ears don’t seem to be improving, my tinnitus is getting worse and I’m hugely missing Coman. I awake at 4.30am with renewed ear pain and need one of the doctor’s prescription-only painkillers to get back to sleep.

Tired and lacking the energy for a run I decide to go for an early morning walk to Jaffa instead. By 9am the heat is sapping and I stop for breakfast at Shaffa near the flea market, enjoying their vegetarian special of lentils, egg, radish, olives tomato and yoghurt-like labneh cheese.

Walking back to Tel Aviv I make my way through Carmel Market, past Bar Ochel where we had breakfast over a week ago, intending to visit the Tel Aviv Museum Of Contemporary Art and Opera House. However by the time I get to Meir Gardens I’m flagging and spotting a sign for the Tel Aviv LGBTQ Centre I decide to pop in and see if they have any recommendations for something to do on my final night in Tel Aviv.  

They’re distinctly lacking in advice however, so I wander out and sit in the shade, realising I’m far too tired to make it all the way to the museums so head back to the hotel, stopping off at the Dizengoff Center en route for a coca-cola and a very welcome blast of air con. A 90 minute nap restores my equilibrium and I work all afternoon once more, taking my regular spot at Bistro Masada at 7pm to watch another amazing sunset and have dinner, hoping that tomorrow I’ll be given the all clear to fly home.

Sure enough, just after 7am on Friday morning, a different hotel doctor appears and examines my ears. The infection has reduced and while I still have another five days of antibiotics to go he certifies me fit to fly. I’m almost delirious with joy and arrive at the airport far too early, loading up on decongestants in case I have problems with ear pressure coming in to land.  

Israel – I’ve very much enjoyed spending time in your holy lands, but right now I’m thanking God that I’m going home!