As we touched down at Ben Gurion, the customary applause made me smile. It hadn’t been a particularly hazardous descent; after more than two years of closed borders, passengers were simply expressing their joy at landing in Israel.
It was clear the feeling was mutual. Israel is more than ready to welcome us back, and it’s a great time to return, with an uncharacteristically empty arrivals hall awaiting us. After the baggage hall, PCR testing stations efficiently worked their way through long lines.
With our results returned by 10.30pm, next morning we were out of isolation and free to explore. The sun hadn’t got the welcome memo but it would have taken more than damp February weather to quash our guide Mikah’s spirits.
“I haven’t worked for two years,” announced the bubbly Jerusalemite as she led us around. From the glorious view from the Mount of Olives, to the sights and sounds of the beautiful Old City and the high energy of a Thursday evening at Machane Yehuda, with its youthful crowds fressing and flirting to the music, it was great to be back.
No matter how many times you’ve visited, there’s always something new to see, learn and taste — all the more so, after our enforced absence.
If you need more encouragement to return, there’s room to properly enjoy attractions old and new before the crowds descend again: a sharp contrast to my last visit to Jerusalem in October 2019, when the streets and sites were packed.
Israel’s charms lie in more than its sights, of course. Our Jerusalem sightseeing tour mixed ancient relics and history with flavours of the shuk.
Paper-thin sesame crackers, za’atar and olive oil-drenched flatbreads and huge egg-sized falafel at Abu Senin bakery; warm, cream cheese-stuffed atayef pastries soaked in syrup and crunchy baklava-style treats, vibrant with pistachio nuts at sweet shop Abu Aziz; a stop at a tahina factory — in reality a tiny unit roasting and grinding sesame seeds into the delicious creamy condiment — where I picked up my own bottle for 25 NIS (just under £6); and a stall where the old lady vendor tore off shards of fruit leather for us to try.
After our day of exploring, we’d earned cocktails and kosher tapas in Andalusia restaurant – stumbling distance from our boutique hotel, the Harmony in the Nahalat Shiva neighbourhood – and Mikah encouraged us to keep the drinks coming.
On warmer evenings, the Hebrew Museum of Music next door has the Kikar Hamusica — a performance stage facing onto the cobbled square lined with al fresco tables to enjoy live shows as you eat.
Our enforced break was a reminder to make the most of Israel while we could, venturing beyond the traditional favourites with a visit to Akko, a few hours north. En route, we stopped at the Tulip Winery where owner Roy Itzhaki has provided work for members of a community with special needs, who assist in producing world-class kosher wines under winemaker David Bar-Ilan.
During lockdown, wineries were able to continue trading while restaurants could not, so people took to tasting (with snacks of course) and the habit has stuck, with a new visitors’ centre being built here to cater for demand.
Akko (or Acre as it’s also known) is a Unesco World Heritage Site, and one of the oldest ports in the world. History oozes through every brick and stone, and despite being the centre of countless struggles over the centuries, it’s incredibly well-preserved.
Today, the beautiful, walled city is home to Muslims and Jews, and sits across the bay from modern Haifa, where Jews and Arabs live peacefully side by side. As you explore, you can discover Akko’s layers of history — almost literally.
The Crusaders built their town here in the 1100s after seizing the site, before the Ottomans later decided to create a second walled city in the 16th century.
So sturdy were the Crusader-built walls that it was easier for the Ottomans to build on top, rather than destroying the earlier fortifications — which is why the excavated 12th-century city is in such astonishingly good condition.
A visit is unmissable: every excavation has provided more insight into the past, despite only having unearthed four per cent so far.
Our local guide, French émigré Pasquale, was also delighted to be leading her first tour post-Covid, taking us round the visitors’ centre, via the Enchanted Garden and its beautiful, gnarled 150-year-old ficus trees.
The huge halls constructed by the Knights Templar double up as concert venues with superb acoustics and host functions. Many newly excavated rooms have been discovered almost by accident, before being expertly curated to bring the history to life.
If you don’t choose a private guide, it’s worth picking up the recorded tour to get the most out of your visit and discover some more unexpected historical facts.
At the communal latrine area, Pasquale revealed that wealthy nobles apparently used serfs to warm the chilly stones they were to sit on, before wiping with soft rabbit ears afterwards. We’re even more aghast when Pasquale adds that the English preferred to use fluffy chicks.
The hammam, or bath house, has also been restored and features an audio-visual display to paint a vivid picture of its past.
After trotting energetically around the town, we refuelled over some fabulous Arabic cuisine with Areen, at her restaurant Hummus El Abed Hami — a tribute to her late father. A generous table was packed with dishes; fava beans in garlic and tahini, as well as tridi (beans and shards of pita drenched in yoghurt, garlic then sizzling hot butter), plus warak dawaly enam (stuffed vine leaves) to name a few.
Built into the city walls, our hotel, the Akkotel, was quirky and full of historic charm, if lacking mod cons. For a more de luxe stay, a new five-star hotel is also coming to the town’s centre, or consider the Efendi Hotel owned by foodie favourite Uri Buri; the restaurant is already a destination for clued-in foodies.
Strolling around the Old City, we browsed galleries run by Jewish artists, sipped mint tea in the restaurant-lined Khan Ash-Shawarda square and stocked up on packs of fabulously fragrant spices from Hamudi Kurdy’s Kurdi and Berit shop; there is nothing owner Marwan does not know about spices.
Around 70 miles back down the coast, Tel Aviv awaited. Checking into the Brown Beach House — actually two streets back from the sand, but with wonderful views of the crashing waves from my huge suite — I felt like I’d made it home.
After the relative calm of Akko, the energy of the White City was palpable as we set out for a night on the town.
Fine dining food at Aria doesn’t disappoint: dishes are colourful and bursting with flavour — cauliflower steak seared in brown butter on a cloud of cauliflower mousse, and scattered with roasted almonds and crunchy browned breadcrumbs, is a reminder why this humble vegetable has come so far.
Even on a Saturday night, clubs and bars were busy. In secret bar Clavis, the cocktails are like nothing I’ve tasted, perhaps because they even make their own alcohol. You won’t find anything like it elsewhere — nor are you likely to find it at all, or get in, if not with a member.
Our secret weapon? Dror Shoresh, who can take you there as part of his Tel Aviv nightlife tour, which also led us to Kuli Alma, Babylon and Jimmy Who, until we waved a white flag at 2am and headed for bed.
With a zest for life that you find nowhere else, this flying visit was a reminder of everything we’ve been missing. Go, and go soon — your only regret may be your waistline.
Getting There
Flights from Luton and Manchester cost from around £137 with easyJet
Rooms at Harmony Hotel cost from around £155 per night.
Doubles at Akkotel cost from around £200 per night.
Rooms at the Brown Beach House cost from around £210 per night.
Visit goisrael.com for more information
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