A Respite In Israel

When I arrived at the airport in Istanbul for my flight to Tel Aviv, I was quite nervous about the interview given all the interesting stamps in my passport (Kuwait, Bahrain, Qatar, and two for the UAE -- in, out and back in as I circled the Gulf). And as my heart pounded, I guess this is Jewish guilt, the security guy asked me why I was coming to Israel. I immediately replied that I was coming to Israel to rest and relax. Rest in Israel?, he said. And that was the end of the interview.

Interestingly, that is exactly how it turned out. Not to be trite, but it was fun, relaxing and fairly social including meeting some new folks that I met, visiting with Shaul's mother and sister in Jerusalem and connecting with old friends who are stationed in Tel Aviv with the US embassy.

Best of all, the weather was exceptionally beautiful. Warm --but not too warm -- clear and sunny virtually every day. And for those of you who aren't familiar with Tel Aviv, it is a totally walkable city with lots of interesting neighborhoods and little nooks and crannies that you just wouldn't find without a month's time to wander and get lost -- as lost as one can get in a really small town that's really a very manageable small city.

Emblematic of the stay was a really neat experience I had on my first day. I should backtrack to explain that I stayed at the apartment of a friend with whom I am trading days at my place in San Francisco. I should add that the apartment is in a really terrific location and is very pleasant. In fact, after staying in hotel rooms for 2 1/2 months I was quite pleased to have a kitchen and a bit more living space. And that brings me to my first story.

I arrived from Turkey on a Saturday night. To add a little twist to the drama, the owner of the apartment, who was away for most of the time, passed off the keys via his office in Istanbul so I was really on my own when I arrived. I had been there once before but it was a very dark entry hall, I was unfamiliar with all the locks and I was just a bit tired after shlepping my abundant amount of luggage up to the apartment. I finally made it into the flat and headed to the kitchen for some water where I discovered there was no table to be found. Ok, no big deal but that was part of what I expected as part of my time in Tel Aviv. To hang out in the kitchen, cook some food, write my blog, read my paper etc. And I'm so sloppy when I eat that I was paranoid that if I had every meal on the couch, it would turn some other nasty shade by the time my host arrived home in several weeks.

I pondered this important question for a few minutes and went to bed hopeful that I would have a brainstorm in the morning -- which I did. I woke up recalling from my last trip that there is an Ikea north of Tel Aviv. I could resolve this quickly and just MOVE ON. After all, I realized this was just a silly little "problem."

But I really didn't want to start figuring out the buses, take a taxi back with my purchase and I especially didn't want to assemble a table, probably one of my least favorite things to do and something I'm really bad at. Instead, I got up and went for a walk, deciding that I would figure it out later.

So, I wandered down the main boulevard of Tel Aviv which is called Diezengoff, stopping for breakfast at a kiosk not too far from home where I was waited on by two handsome gentlemen who told me I could have whatever I wanted from their abundant case of sandwiches and accompaniments -- anything that would make me happy they each said in unison. What more could I ask for? Maybe I would eat every meal at this kiosk just a few blocks from home? After a fabulous sandwich stuffed with tuna, eggplant, hummus, pickles, roasted peppers, fresh tomatoes and every imaginable vegetable, I continued my stroll, ultimately making my way to Allenby Street. Allenby is an odd combination of retail stores, restaurants, bars (gay and straight), strip joints, flop houses, felafel stands, hardware stores and a few antique shops. After wandering in a big loop up and down Allenby, I was a little spaced out and stepped into the street at one point and almost got swiped by a car. I immediately stepped back onto the curb, turned around and found myself staring at a tiny antique store as narrow as a wedge of cheese.

As it turned out, this was a gem of a store overflowing with lots of interesting things including art deco dishes, old propaganda books, pottery of various sorts, food and candy tins, old photos and who knows what. Excited by all these antiques (at bargain prices I might add) I struck up a conversation with the owner, another handsome young guy (you get the theme) who was quite friendly and solicitous of my various antique interests. I bought a something from nearly every category mentioned above and, naturally, he was appreciative and kept trying to find more things to sell. At the end of this shopping spree which totaled about $80, the table situation crossed my mind and I asked him where I could find some cheap furniture. Since there wasn't room in his store for anything but knick knacks, I figured it was no offense to ask for a referral. After he gave me directions to a little neighborhood nearby that sells furniture (there's lots of segmented selling zones in Tel Aviv), he said "where are you living anyway?" One one hand I was a little reluctant to give my address to a stranger (even a member of the tribe) but I quickly got over it and said I was living at 21 Sokolov to which he replied that he lived at #8 Sokolov and he had a folding kitchen table that I could borrow and I should call him that night. And sure as shooting, I called him at 7PM and 5 minutes later I had a table for the duration of my visit. I guess that could happen anywhere but it sure seemed like a very happy set of coincidences and, possibly, a good omen for 3 enjoyable weeks ahead. Stay tuned...