Army Trip: Mount Herzl

Sometime in the middle of this past week I was taken on a little trip to the holy city of Jerusalem. The objective of the trip was one of honour, to attend the memorial of a fallen soldier. This soldier, by the surname of Avner (I am reluctant to divulge his full name without permission from the family), was a truck driver from my Logistics base, Tirah (“Northern Knights” 6910 battalion). A reservist returning for duty during the First Lebanon War, Sergeant Avner left Tirah base driving a “Safari” truck. For those who know their history, there was an “incident” known as the “Safari Disaster” where twelve soldiers were killed and fourteen were injured. The story, featuring our Sgt. Avner as the truck’s driver, goes as follows.

The Safari Disaster Memorial in Metula

It was Sunday afternoon, March 10, 1985, and Sgt. Avner began his day at the Tirah Logistics base, as his older brother told me before the memorial service. His mission was driving his “Safari” troop carrier truck, loaded with combat soldiers dressed for battle, from the border town of Metula to the Lebanese village of Marjayoun. Already over the border, the convoy he was in encountered a red Chevrolet pickup. The driver of the pickup waited as the convoy passed, looking mighty friendly until he blew his car up – just as Sgt. Avner’s “Safari” was driving by. The huge explosion sent the seated soldiers flying through the air, and even windows back in Metula were shattered from the shock wave. As mentioned above, the death toll was severe. Speaking of explosions, an aquaintance of mine who served in the Combat Engineering Corps, related to me stories about the unassuming force of an explosion’s shock wave. With plenty of experience with explosives, this particular soldier would be an authoritative figure, as would anyone after blowing up piles of old mines – after removing them cautiously from the ground.

”Safari” truck (not my photo)

Oddly enough, I had never heard of the “Safari Disaster” and was thereby quite intrigued when hearing a brief overview of the story during the ride. Being a representative of the IDF, to pay respects to our fallen heroes, is an experience that should be cherished – in fact, my CO knew I’d be interested and thus sent me along. After the pleasant drive from the base to Jerusalem, we – a handful of soldiers and an officer – drove through neighbourhoods that I recognised yet, despite my frantic crowd-scanning, I did not see anyone I knew. At last we arrived at the Mt. Herzl military cemetery and disembarked from the vehicle. We buffed our boots to a mild gleam and put on our berets, waiting patiently for the family and friends to amass.

Military cemetery

At last we entered the cemetery and headed for the plot belonging to Sergeant Avner. Standing a bit off to the side, the small group of us stood respectful and silent as the service began. A military man led the memorial, his deep voice lending to the somberness of the situation. As I looked around me, at the people – of wildly different appearances, at the gravestones, and at the peaceful surroundings, I wished I could whip out my camera and capture, somewhat, some of the experience. However, as a representative of the IDF, and, in particular, of my battalion, the photography would be breaking rank, and unprofessional. A few people said a few short words, a slightly choked kaddish was said and before long we were departing. But I had not had my fill. I happened to have noticed one of the attendees speaking Hebrew with an American accent (oh, how we stick out!) and so I approached her. After offering her a tissue, which she refused, I asked her about her connection to the family. She, as it turns out, is a sister-in-law of Sgt. Avner. I asked her about him and she told me that he was killed shortly after her wedding…

Mount Hertzl (photo by joshuapaquin, Flickr)

One thing that I found very interesting, and in fact took the time to mention it to a friend, is the sameness of the graves in a military cemetery. Soldiers, officers and even chiefs-of-staff are all buried in the same manner, all with the same headstone. Just a few plots over from Sgt. Avner was a Lieutenant Colonel – the rank of a battalion commander. We suggested that the ranks were only considered “important” for the living, because beneath the rank, beneath the uniform, lies an human – and a Jewish soul. Who’s to say who deserves more honour when all is said and done?

Herzl Memorial (Flickr)

In the various sections of the cemetery, there were all sorts of memorials and such which I would have loved to have looked at. Who can resist such a intense glimpse into the past, into the blood-soaked history of modern-day Israel? Alas, such is the way of the free man – to gaze around at ease – however, I was on a “mission” and had to be on my way. Hopefully one day I shall return, on shall we say, a happier occasion.

Army Trip: Lehi Museum & The Olympic Experience

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.

Lehi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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: Ramat HaNadiv

After more than two months of army duty, having completed basic training and already well into the driving course, my fellow soldiers and I were treated to a “break from the schedule” and enjoyed a day trip to the Ramat HaNadiv memorial park. The trip was intended to give us a taste of driving on unfamiliar roads as well as providing us with a little bit of fun, tied in with history and education. With each driving instructor giving each of his soldiers a turn at the wheel, we took a really long and roundabout way to Ramat HaNadiv (coming from the Haifa area). I drove a nice hour-long stretch and then handed the wheel over to the next soldier. When we, at last, arrived to the park, there was a BBQ going and we were given a brief explanation of the site by our immediate commanding officer. After that we were released into the park to explore and enjoy while the food preparation finished up.

Some of the gardens

As we walked through the park we took group pictures and individual pictures, posing in the well-maintained gardens. Had I known about this trip when I was last at home I would have made sure to bring a camera but the trip was spontaneous (at least from our side) and I was forced to engaged in photography with a 5-MP phone camera – some of the pictures coming out remarkably well.

Vegetation

To give a little background about the site, Ramat HaNadiv is a small nature park just outside of Zichron Yaakov established as a memorial gardens for the Baron Edmond James de Rothschild and his wife, who were both buried in a crypt on location in 1954. The Baron and his wife had been previously buried in Paris in 1934 and 1935, respectively, but were re-interred in Israel on land purchased by them some time before. Ramat HaNadiv translates into “Heights of the Benefactor”, an ode to the Baron’s nickname which was earned through many years of donations and assistance to the Jewish settlers during the first few Aliyahs.

Sundial

The Baron Rothschild is the same baron as the one who was instrumental in founding Rosh Pina, a town established in 1882 beside Tzfat (blog post about Rosh Pina, mentioning the Baron, found here).

Engaged in thought…

One of the things that makes Ramat HaNadiv a unique place is the variety of flora, of all different varieties. It was told to us towards the tail end of our walk that Ramat HaNadiv contains the largest amount of endangered plant species in all of Israel.

Flora

Mid-way we came across a sign to “The Crypt” and followed it. There we found an impressive stone courtyard with narrow pools of koi fish and outside a handful of us posed, myself not included:

Some of us outside the courtyard to the crypt

And a view of inside the courtyard:

The courtyard outside the crypt

Once through the heavy doors, I entered the crypt and walked down to the burial room where the remains of the Baron and his wife are now held:

Inside the crypt

Emerging from the underground cavern, I branched off from the group with two friends and began to explore more, despite the constant update that the food was ready and everyone was heading back to eat. In the end I’d say that our actions paid off as we got to see a larger portion of the gardens and ended eating as well when we finally got back to the picnic grounds. There was even a family of mongoose that ventured out of the bushes to examine us and our victuals. Back in the park, here is the Cascade Garden:

The Cascade Garden

As we continued on, just after the Fragrance Garden, we bumped into an elderly gardener who noticed we were speaking English. He introduced himself as Sydney and gave us a thorough lecture on the water absorption complications of the ficus tree. An experienced gardener, having decades of horticultural experience under his belt, Sydney filled our minds with interesting facts and tidbits, sharing some of his knowledge with us.

Sydney the Gardener

Had we had more time at our disposal I would have liked to have heard more about the site, but at last he told us that we should be on our way and so I promised that if I come back I’d have to snare him into giving me a tour. Looking at the Wikipedia page about Ramat HaNadiv I see that there are several archaeological digs that I missed and those demand to be seen!

Until next time, whenever and wherever that may be!

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

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!

Akko (Part 2)

Continuing on with my saga of Akko and Rosh HaNikra, both visited on Thursday, here is the second half of the Akko report:

One of my favourite parts in the Old City of Akko is the Marina and its cheap boat rides of the bay area, something that gives me the same thrill each time. We found a bright pink boat in the Marina that was still loading up – the boats usually carry between 15 to 20 people – and waited for the gaudy sea-going vessel to be untied from the dock. But first, the Marina:

Akko’s Marina

When the boat was full, mostly with vacationing Arabs, we untied and took off, leaving the marina behind as we headed out to the open sea. The captain turned his invigorating Arabic music up to the max, the gaudy boat reverberating as we bounced in the troughs. Here I shoved my arm way out, sitting down for a spell, and took a blind shot of what was behind us:

Leaving the bay behind

As we went out, passing the domain of the sea walls, our eardrums cringing from the overpowering music – the classic Arabic songs are all the same to me, one man singing and then a chorus of a bunch of men partially repeating what the main singer said (something like this song, blasted at 100 decibels). If you listen to the song at full volume, rock back and forth and splash salt water on your face from time to time, you may begin to feel what the boat ride is like, with the help of a healthy imagination! Here is another tour boat passing us on its return journey, Haifa and the famed Mount Carmel in the distance:

Another tour boat passing us

And then we too turned around and headed back, about fifteen minutes after departure. Here is the Old City as seen by sea, how the incoming vessels – be them for war or for peace – would have seen Akko all those years back, minus the destroyed Templar Fortress:

The Old City from sea

Here we re-entered the Marina, after a 20-25 minute boat ride, and another tour boat leaves for the high seas:

Re-entering the Marina

From the Marina, after disembarking and planting our feet on terra firma, we walked our way back into the crowded streets and found the Kahn El-Omdan and the Clock Tower. The Kahn El-Omdan is an Ottoman-styled motel where people would tie up their horse/camel and belongings in the lower coves and then go upstairs to sleep in the rooms up above.

Kahn El-Omdan

The Clock Tower is also from the Ottoman Period, one of seven built throughout Israel (the ones in Tzfat and Jaffa have been photographically featured on my blog). Last time I was in Akko the clock was out of service but it looks as though someone fixed it. Historically, it has been the clock tower with the most malfunctions, perhaps a testament to the unease between the Jews and Arabs in Akko’s Old City.

Akko’s Ottoman Clock Tower

Emerging from the Templar Tunnels (which we did after the boat ride) having walked/crouch-walked it both ways, we walked comfortably through the quieter residential area of the Old City, mostly inhabited by Muslim Arabs. We found a camel and then found the exit to the sea walls area, the gusts of cool wind refreshing us as we made our way down to the water. Here is the view from Burj el Kashla of the sea wall heading north, with Rosh HaNikra far off in the distance:

The sea wall looking north

Looking south, to Mount Carmel, here is a small panoramic of the corner of the city – the calm area of sea, locked in by the rocks, was where the mighty Templar Fortress once stood:

Panoramic of the area that juts out to sea

As we walked along the sea wall, passing the lighthouse and heading towards the historic Pisan Port, we came across the famous part of the wall where the local youth jump off and into the sea. The scary part is that there are huge rocks in the water so they have to be really careful not to splatter themselves needlessly. Another thing is that they often wear shoes so that the razor sharp underwater stones don’t slice their feet. We watched as several teens dove into the churning sea some 30+ feet below. If you click on the picture and zoom up you can see the youth climbing back up for another leap:

The sea wall where the local kids jump from

After picking up some refreshments in the souk we took a swing north-east and headed for the Land Wall Promenade where the Ottomans fended off the French conqueror Napoleon and his 30-day seige back in 1799. Part of the wall area, protected by cannon and men, was conquered but the second, inner wall held the invaders off and Napoleon was forced to abandon his efforts. In some areas, closer to the sea walls, rusted cannon balls can be seen lodged in the wall from the battles so long ago. Here is one of the cannons that was involved in the fighting:

Old cannon involved in the counter-attacks of Napoleon’s siege

Located beneath the wall, in arched rooms, is the Treasures in the Walls museum (also known as the Ethnography and Folklore Museum) – various collections of historical items and artifacts. There, in compartmentalized exhibits, workshops and offices have been recreated all using period pieces. A shoemaker, a carpenter, a pharmacist and a hat-maker (or as the man referred to himself: casquettier), all these workshops and offices, and many more, were faithfully redone with the finest attention to detail. Also, there were collections of old toys, old matchboxes, old currency (spanning four nationalities in the Holy Land during the last century and a half) and even old sitting rooms of imported furniture from Damascus, Syria. Here, a collection that would befit a palace – wood inlaid with bone and seashell:

”Straight Outta Damascus”

After the museum, which took a good forty minutes, we headed back out onto the Land Wall Promenade and exited the Old City. From there we grabbed a taxi, got on a bus and made our way to Rosh HaNikra, the topic of the next blog post.

Akko (Part 1)

On Thursday I took a magnificent trip to both the Old City of Akko (Acre for some people) and Rosh HaNikra. Akko is one of the oldest port cities in Israel and is located in the Western Galilee – between Haifa and the border. Rosh HaNikra is at the border, along the same coastline. As is the custom, I will be relating the journey and it will be a trilogy of posts: Two of Akko and one of Rosh HaNikra. Here goes the first part of the Akko trip:

I began my morning in Karmiel where I picked up my special tour guest, an older woman from Oak Park (where I grew up), and the two of us headed west to Akko. The bus took us through some industrial areas of Arab villages which was atypical for bus routes but eventually we arrived in Akko and took a taxi to the Old City. There, this was the first magnificent site that greeted us – majestic palm trees in front of majestic old walls, the El Jazzar Wall:

Trees and walls

From there we walked among the mangrove trees to the Visitor’s Centre where we looked around at the exhibits and then bought tickets outside, tickets to a whole slew of museums as well as the cable car ride at Rosh HaNikra (massive savings, if anyone is interested in doing both places in the same year). The first place, the first ticket, was the Hospitaller Fortress, a huge Crusader edifice:

Hospitaller Fortress

We picked up audio devices that we were able to activate different recordings for different sites within the huge Crusader complex, those made for a great increase of knowledge during our tour of the fortress. There were so many halls and rooms, all with amazing arch ceilings made of stone blocks – an perplexing amount of work for something that could possibly be conquered in a short amount of time. Entering the complex, we first saw this room, however I do not recall what the official name is:

The first room

From there we entered deeper – I don’t remember the exact order of the halls, as there were so many – but here is the Hall of the Imprisoned. If one is to be imprisoned, I think an arched Crusader hall seems glamorous enough.

Hall of the Imprisoned

And there, in the blinding Mediterranean sun, the Crusaders practiced their deadly deeds – the jousting, the sword-fighting, the archery and the grueling exercises – surrounded by the high fortress walls:

The courtyard where the Crusaders practiced the art of war

And here, the high arched cove just outside the latrine:

Outside the latrine

Now here, the greatest hall of them all, the Column Hall – also known as the Dining Hall – where the leader of the order, the knights and the foot-soldiers all gathered to dine, to feast on bland medieval foods. This hall is truly magnificent and photos do not do it justice, but I took two that I’d like to share, to give an inkling of what it looks like.

The Column Hall (Dining Hall)

The Column Hall (Dining Hall) – wider shot

From there, the glorious Column Hall, we made our way to the Sewage Tunnel which has been uncovered from years of neglect and made into a handy passage way:

Sewage Tunnel

But not all tunnels are meant for sewage. Some time later, after we had returned our audio devices, checked out a ghastly art gallery and wandered down the long Arab souk, we found our way to the Templar Tunnels – a tunnel system that crosses a good chunk of the Old City close to the sea walls. The Crusaders created the tunnel to ease them with transporting supplies and whatnot to the old (destroyed) Templar Fortress – which predated the Hospitaller Fortress – coming from the Pisan Port, or so I believe.

Templar Tunnels

Before Part 1 ends, here is an aerial shot of the Old City for reference – the treed area in the right-centre is the Visitor’s Centre and the El Jazzar Wall, the buildings above and to the left is the Hospitaller Fortress with the courtyard very distinguishable, and the Templar Tunnels can be found in the narrow part in the upper left of the “horn”. In the next post, the Marina, Clock Tower, sea walls and more will be discussed.

Aerial photo of the Old City

Exploring Tel Aviv-Yafo

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:

Mysterious…

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.

HaTachana

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.

Be’er Sheva

Today, the second day of my much anticipated trip, I headed way down south to the Negev city of Be’er Sheva. Having never been further south than Bet Shemesh, this was a true change is climate and landscape. When I got off the train and met my friend Ofir, who was my local guide for the day, I couldn’t help but notice the extreme dry heat that gusted from every direction like an oven. Outside, we passed by Bedouins, native of the Negev, who dressed very differently than the Muslim, Christian and Druze Arabs that I see all the time in the north. Sadly, I didn’t get any photographs of them. But I did get a picture of this street that, to me, was marvellously reminiscent of Miami – but in the old Turkish town area known as the Old City:

Street in the Old City of Be’er Sheva

As we walked through the Old City, the crumbling Ottoman-era stone walls visible on nearly every corner, Ofir pointed out all the places of interest, including this – water in the desert:

Running water in the desert city – the marvels of ancient engineering

After a little while spent roaming the streets in the blazing sun, with temperatures clearly surpassing 100° Fahrenheit, we ducked into a little café by the name of Lola where I ordered an iced coffee. It was fun because I never, ever, go to coffee-houses. Shortly after our coffee break we headed back outside and found ourselves in front of Beit Ha-Ful, a restaurant. Both of us hungry, we went on in and Ofir promised to get me this special food – I wasn’t quite sure what he intended at the time. The man behind the counter did some deft scooping and arranging-within-the-pita movements and then surfaced, asking me if I wanted lemon and charif (spicy – a generic term for something paste-like, spicy and made from peppers). He spooned in a little salt, much to my curiousity, and then added the lemon and charif. Next, to further propel my confusion and curiousity, he mashed up everything inside my pita. Then he asked if I wanted salads in my sandwich as well – I chose some chopped cucumber (somewhere along the line hummus was added in too). I took my completed sandwich from the man, waited for Ofir to get his and then took our mysterious culinary loot to our table. I examined my pita, noting the contents, and took a bite. What I was eating was beans and hard-boiled egg that had been mashed into one lovely, smooth, lemon-y and spicy entity. Here is what it looked like before I started eating:

Ful in a pita at Beit Ha-Ful

If you think this sounds kinda gross… trust me, it is remarkably tasty. Here my sandwich is again, in an advanced stage of its short life:

Partly devoured ful in a pita

After we finished our pitas and the complimentary falafel balls given to us, we took ourselves back into the afternoon sun and kept looking at cool things. The two museums in the area were both closed, in fact most things in Be’er Sheva worth visiting are being worked on now. But, the old WWI-era British cemetery was open. The final resting place for probably hundreds of soldiers who died for the British Empire is just smack in middle of a residential area in Be’er Sheva. I had fun imagining the British great-grandchildren of some of these fallen soldiers telling someone that his/her great-grandfather died during the Great War and was buried not in France or England… but in southern Israel. Makes for a great story, I suppose.

WWI-era British cemetery

After seeing the cemetery we went up to Ofir’s apartment for some cold water and relaxation in the coolness of man-made shade. Ofir checked the times for our next stop, the Israeli Air Force Museum “just outside” of Be’er Sheva and we headed out for the bus at the appropriate time. Getting off the bus in what would seem to be wilderness if not for the large presence of military buildings and the planes flying circles over our heads, we made our way to the museum.

Welcome to the Israeli Air Force Museum

Having paid admission, we were let in by the IAF soldiers and we started our exploration of the museum. Obviously revolving around aircraft, most of the museum is actually outdoors – parked planes “on the tarmac” or in open hangars. The “Old to New” jet fighter exhibit has 150 different warplanes order chronologically – from the WWII-era Spitfire which Israel used in the 1948 war to the modern-day F-15 which is still in use today.

An Israeli F-4 Phantom

Part of the experience outdoors, other than the relentless desert sun, was made 0h-so real by (1)the IAF training planes circling overhead, and (2)the IDF/IAF gunfire in one of the bases just across the main road. The sounds, together with the visuals, really helped create an experience – that and the fact that my friend is an avid plane enthusiast. Getting back to the aircraft, some of the stories behind the planes were known to me from books. This Syrian MiG-17 has a story which almost sounds too “unfortunate” to be true:

A Syrian MiG-17 which accidentaly landed in Israel

Accidentally landing in Israel and then having to surrender the plane must have been very nerve-wracking for the Syrian pilot. But then again, simply flying one of the older planes in the IAF’s history is probably nerve-wracking as well, presenting the biplanes of old:

Old propeller planes in a hangar

Some of the planes, a very small percentage, are open for sitting in but the ones that looked interesting had long passed by when I noticed the discreet ladders offering their services at the sides of the planes. Blame it on the heat and the sun. I did, however, sit inside the helicopter that hosted Begin and Sadat, leaders of Israel and Egypt respectively, as they flew to a military command centre in Be’er Sheva to sign the peace treaty in 1979. That was interesting.

Old Israeli fighters that have been decommissioned

On of the other interesting findings was the hang glider that was used by a Syrian-based terrorist to fly into Israel, in the Golan, and raid an sleeping army base in the dead of night. I had read the story in the book I bought from the Navy Museum in Haifa back in February (as can be seen here, in this old post: Haifa Again). Now knowing the story, it was both fascinating and chilling to see the exact hang-glider sitting in a hangar seemingly detached from the blood-drenched history that it helped make. If only aircraft had the power of speech…

The bulk of the aircraft on display

Towards the end, we climbed into a dormant Boeing jet and watched a short film about the history of the IAF – with the comforting air conditioning cooling down the plane’s interior. It also should be noted that this museum offers extremely cold water on the far end of the main display lot so, should you go visit, you’ll know ahead of time to be liberal with your water. So, after about two hours of so, we had seen all the aircraft there was to see and had read about more incidents then we could remember and so we headed out, back out to the main road. The training planes had ceased for some time, and apart from the sporadic staccato of gunfire, it was hot and silent in the great desert expanse. Back in Be’er Sheva, I said my good-byes and thank yous to my friend, Ofir, and continued on to the train station where I boarded a train for Tel Aviv. As a parting shot, the perfect indication of a day growing old, here is sunset from the train, hastily photographed as the well-tended crops below whip by the windows:

Sunset from the train

Now that was a nice day trip. It’s good to have finally entered into the vastness of the Negev, if only just to see a city. Hopefully one day I will visit all that there is to be seen way down there (including the famous Ramon Crater and Eilat) but for now I have Tel Aviv to focus on. Until tomorrow!

O’ Jerusalem

Yesterday marked the first day of my little trip down south, a four day excursion to see new things and do new things – at least while I am still a civilian. The day’s destination: Jerusalem! However, getting to Jerusalem is a journey in and of itself – the early waking, the peach cobbler breakfast, the train ride to Tel Aviv, the getting situated, the train (or bus, I usually take the bus) to Jerusalem, etc. I reached Tel Aviv in good time, as indicated by this dingy clock in the train station:

Dingy railroad clock

As soon as I boarded the Jerusalem-bound train in Tel Aviv, I leaned back and peered out the window, ready to see what I’ve been missing each time I chose the Tel Aviv-Jerusalem bus line instead. It was the tumultuous rise and fall of the mountains just outside of Bet Shemesh, and the Soreq River that runs beneath the train, crossing under a sturdy bridge. It was truly scenic. The only downside to the train ride was that I ended up in somewhere known as “Malcha Mall” (the official name to the mall is Jerusalem Mall) – in southwestern Jerusalem. The biggest mall in the Holy City, Malcha has tons of places to shop in and eat at but it is not near any of the places I initially wanted to visit. So I bought my falafel lunch, ate it and hit the road, heading for the Central Bus Station. The first thing I did was buy a ticket to the Jerusalem Light Rail, the electric train that runs through some areas of the Holy City. This was my first time riding it… and I rode it to the Jaffa Gate of the Old City.

The Jerusalem Light Rail passing by the Old City walls outside of Jaffa Gate

There, approaching the Old City I couldn’t help but lose myself in a photographic frenzy – I snapped and snapped, this is the best that came out (I’m not sure why the sky looks so grey):

The majestic walls and towers of the Old City

Once inside the Old City I headed for the Israel Ministry of Tourism information office and was directed to the correct location to purchase a ticket to walk the ramparts. Something I’ve always wanted to do, the Ramparts Walk turned out to be very rewarding but at the same time, very tiring. I climbed the stairs with excitement and began my walk – a totally different perspective on the Old City unfolding before my eyes.

Walking the narrow ramparts

As the city walls continued, the walk became harder and harder – the uneven surfaces and the intense stairways not helping much. The soldiers who historically roamed the walltops, throughtout the generations, must have been made of sterner stuff. Regardless, the views from the wall really does change how the Old City looks (click on: map). Here, just above the Damascus Gate, I sit and observe:

Sitting in a defence niche just above the Damascus Gate and the Arab peddlers below

All this was just the northern side – the Ramparts Walk is actually comprised of a longer northern walk and a shorter southern walk. At the end of the northern walk, where the Lion’s Gate on the eastern wall is, we (I had picked up some fellow wall-walkers along the way and impressed them with my “knowledge” in the tourism field) reached an observation point – the end of the line. To our surprise and enjoyment, the muezzins started up and pretty soon there were fasting Muslim men and women making their way to the mosque, urged on by the song of the muezzin. Here is a short video clip of the experience:

After watching for a few minutes we turned back and descended all the way back at the Herod’s Gate (be sure to consult map). With my water bottle long dried up in the hot Jerusalem sun, I advanced on a peddler/shopkeeper who sold large bottles of water. The Arab merchant informed me that since I do not speak Arabic… he cannot sell me anything. Fun!

One of the many Arab souks in and around the Old City

After finding an alternate water source and parting ways with my new companions, I headed for the second half of the Ramparts Walk, the southern side. Here, just at the beginning, the Tower of David:

The Tower of David

And here, just a little bit along the way, a pictorial show-piece, looking more like old time Bavaria than the Old City:

A peculiar section of the Old City

After descending at the Dung Gate, basically having done 80% of the total wall walk (all that was offered) and taking somewhere beyond the three-hour mark, I headed inside the City for an obligatory visit at the Kotel. Here, in all its splendour and glory, the Kotel:

The Kotel

After the Kotel is when things started getting hairy. With the sun setting rapidly, a few friends of mine wanted to meet up closer to the “centre of town” so I was determined to hop on one of the buses and meet them there. In spite of my iron resolution, no buses seemed to come – and even the taxis became elusive as the mainly-Muslim drivers wanted to head home to eat their Ramadan dinner. Finally, after some thirty minutes of waiting and meandering from bus stop to bus stop, a bus – no, THE bus – came. I was oh-so fortunate to be included on the bus, albeit the guy who has to watch out that when the doors open he doesn’t fall out. I felt like I was on those crowded Indian trains where the passengers hang from wherever they can.

A sea of black hats separated me from the bus driver

As I made my way out of Jerusalem, after some quality time with my old friends, I snapped this shot of the Jerusalem Bridge of Strings where both people and the light rail make use of the arc over the traffic. (Sadly, night-time photography is usually ill-received by my camera):

The Jerusalem Bridge of Strings

Back in Tel Aviv, nearing midnight, I happened to have missed the last bus offered to the area I needed and was then forced to share a taxi with some other Tel Avivians to get back to my hosts. Always an adventure!

Kibbutz Degania

Continuing with the adventures of May 3rd, following a few hours spent at the Hamat Gader resort, this post focuses on Israel’s first kibbutz, Degania. Founded in 1910, the kibbutz celebrated its 100 year anniversary just two years ago. That was the year I first visited Degania, on a Yeshiva trip. So I returned to cover it for Tourist Israel and to catch up on my lacking historical knowledge in regards to the early days of Israel’s rebirth. Here is the first house of Kibbutz Degania where everyone lived together in the early 1910s:

The original first house

My adventures first started at the Gordon House museum where I was greeted with locked doors and nobody around (kind of like a “Twilight Zone” episode). I read online that the museum was open until 3 PM but that website was last updated in 2001 so the information was outdated. I was crushed and decided to find someone who could open the museum for me, at least for a few minutes. At last I found living people and I asked them for help. They gave me a phone number to call and after a confusing conversation the woman agreed to come open the museum for me. I explained that I was a journalist and she gave me a tour, and didn’t even charge me admittance.

One of the Gordon House museum buildings

The most interesting of the three separate exhibitions of the Gordon House was the Natural History exhibit. The others were the History of Kibbutz Degania and the Ancient History of the Lower Kinneret Area. In the Natural History exhibit there are tons of stuffed and preserved animals ranging from birds to snakes and to a leopard skin that once belonged to a leopard which was killed nearby after eating one of local’s sheep. Here is a diorama of the wildlife found in the Lower Kinneret area:

Kinneret diorama

We continued on through the exhibitions, going from building to building. There were all sorts of interesting pictures from the early days when they worked the fields and had guards riding around on donkeys or horses to protect the workers and the crops. At first, in the earliest stage, the kibbutz was just a large house where everyone lived in together (some 10 people or so), a series of small building holding sheep, cows, chickens, supplies and a blacksmith workshop all build in a square and enclosed by a wall and then there was the dining room and kitchen in a separate building. The kitchen area is now converted into another small museum which just covers the history of Degania. Here is an old photo of the early settlers building the stables and cowshed:

Building the stables and cowshed back in the early 1910s

Today, the main house is now an office of sorts (all I saw was lots of paperwork) and the other building which once hosted livestock now contain various other offices and even a nice light restaurant. I had a few minutes until I had to find my bus out on the main road so I went in and bought a Coke, in a glass bottle. I sat outside and sipped, batting flies away as I listened to two couples (one local, one tourists from Spain) and their cheery banter. It was a lovely place to sit and relax and I was reluctant to leave. But the bus waits for no man so I gathered up my belongings and bid farewell. On my way out of the kibbutz I took this picture, the old farm equipment which once conquered the land now rests on display, the would-be rusty parts now decorated with paint:

Old farm machinery

I then exited the kibbutz and sat down at the bus stop across the road. It was a hot afternoon and the flies seemed to swarm relentlessly. The cars and trucks whizzed by and a young corporal sat down across from me, her large suitcase gleaming in the sun. I asked her if she too was headed for Teverya (Tiberias) and she was. Her reply was in English and before long I was privy to the facts that she was Canadian, a lone soldier and living here in Kibbutz Degania, not far from the original “plaza.”  Eventually our bus came and we parted ways, I headed for Tzfat and she for her army base down in the Negev. It was a long and quite enjoyable day but I was pleased to finally arrive home.