A Busy First Week

So here it is, Thursday. A full and action packed week has gone by.

We had a quiet first Shabbat. Between residual jet lag and just being overwhelmed at being here, all we wanted was to be home alone.

There is a quality to Jerusalem on a Friday afternoon. I've written about and experienced this countless times, and it never gets old. Jerusalem is overcrowded. Too many cars and buses on the streets, too many people and not enough sidewalks. It's very busy and noisy. But on Friday afternoons everything glides to a halt, as people close their stores and businesses, go home and prepare for Shabbat. It's utterly magical and it doesn't occur anywhere else on the planet.

The week revs up again on Saturday night. We went to a program at one of the nearby synagogues; the topic was Nahal Haredi, a niche social experiment that has been very successful. Without going into details, which would be way too time-consuming, Nahal Haredi is an ultra-Orthodox army unit. The soldiers are assigned very hazardous duty - going after terrorists where they live. Because of their background, many of these soldiers have special difficulties entering civilian society after they are discharged from the army. There is a support organization that assists them with the re-entry process, and they have a website (who doesn't?) nahalharedi.org. They do very important work and they are worth supporting.

Sunday we walked over to Machane Yehuda - it's hard to stay away. Even tho we didn't need to do much shopping, there are things you can get at the "shuk" (market) that are just better than any grocery store.

Monday it was really time to get down to business. I had my 3-hour womens' class, and it was as if I had never left. Then it was off to Krav Maga, with the teacher I took private lessons with last year. It was great to be back and it's a wonderful class - 3 religious men and me. Because this country never ceases to surprise, one is Haredi (see above and google "Haredi"). We train outside, in the rose garden next to the Knesset, rain or shine. The weather this week has been exceptional, and training outdoors gives a sense of realism that I don't get in the ring when I train at home. And that's the point. Moshe, the instructor, is very very good at what he does. And I ached when I got home.

Tuesday we had to get ready to move, so we repacked and prepared to say goodbye to the palace we lived in for the first week of our visit.

Wednesday was another big day. I met Batsheva at 9AM for a ceramics class. I'm not the craft type, and not at all creative. I dabble in beading, and that's about it. Batsheva, on the other hand, can do anything. I tried to convince her that this might not be my thing, but she said just try it and besides it gives us time to be together. Well, it turns out it's not just a ceramics class. It's 3 different classes - 2 hours each - beading, ceramics and vegetable carving. I learned new beading techniques, which was fun. But the big surprise was the ceramics. I started working on a horse head, and despite my aversion to getting my hands dirty, it was a lot of fun. Regrettably I could't stay for the vegetable carving because we had to change apartments.

So I rushed home to vacate apartment # 1 and move to apartment # 2. The new place is only about 5 minutes from the old one, and it's quite nice. A big kitchen that opens to a living/dining room. Two very good size bedrooms, a very large bathroom with 2 sinks and something I've heard of but have never actually seen - a washer/dryer that's a single machine. We haven't tried it yet, but no matter what it sure beats hand laundry. We hired a taxi to move our luggage, and spent the next hour or so unpacking and getting settled.

Then it was off to my Israeli daughter Yafit's birthday party at a new Georgian (as in Russia) restaurant. We didn't get home till after midnight.

And today was an intensive (2 hour) krav maga class, home to shower, and off to see my grandson Nir play basketball.

Tomorrow we go to Dori's kibbutz for Shabbat.

More next week..................

Phones, Shoes, Shabbat

No trip to Israel would be complete without a bit of aggravation. Mine came earlier than expected - yesterday, when I attempted to re-connect my cell phone.

When we left Israel a year ago I opted to freeze my number by paying the nominal rate of 10 shekels per month. According the the contract I could re-activate the account at any time. Well, I got an email from the phone company a couple of months ago; some kind of issue with my credit card came up. I made several attempts to work this out on the website, but was unable to get into my account. No big deal, I thought, I could just as easily take care of this in person. HA! I should have known better.

It all started when I called customer service Wednesday morning. They may cut off your account, but you can still call customer service from the cell phone. I followed their instructions that if you didn't want to wait on hold you could leave a message for someone to call you back. I'm still waiting. But after having lunch with Batsheva on Wednesday, we walked around downtown and stumbled on a phone store that represents my carrier, Golan Telecom. I walked in and explained my situation, only to be told that if I couldn't get into the account on the website there was nothing they could do to help. They did offer to sell me a new SIM card, with a new number, which defeated the whole purpose of the 10 shekels per month for the privilege of keeping the number I've had for the past umpteen years. In that case they said I should call customer service. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Undaunted, I called customer service yesterday morning and actually got a live person. The problem was the credit card they had on my account doesn't match my actual card. I even tried a previous card, which is no longer active, thinking maybe when I opened the account I initially used the old card. Nothing worked. So I decided to bite the bullet and go for the new number.

Since we needed to go to a pharmacy yesterday, and the store where I got my service last year were both in the Mamila Mall, off we went. Unfortunately the Golan rep hadn't quite arrived yet - he was expected in a couple of hours, which in this country is merely a suggestion. Still undaunted, we walked back to the store where I had been the day before, only to be told that they were out of SIM cards and didn't know what time the new supply would be delivered. They suggested we try the shop at the Central Bus Station. So we hopped on the light rail to the CBS, went in and found by far the nicest Golan rep EVER. He walked me thru the various plans, I picked the one I wanted, he started to do the transaction ... and asked for my passport. Well, I didn't have my passport on me. I stopped carrying it with me years ago, when you no longer needed one to change money. I tried giving him my driver's license, but that wasn't good enough. It was either a passport or identity card or no go. I almost cried. The run-around, the frustration, and the onset of jet lag were getting to me.

There is a happy ending. This morning, after doing our shopping for Shabbat, we went back to the phone store in the CBS and got everything taken care of. I even have a number that can be dialed from the US (312-940-4491), just in case anyone out there can't handle the thought of not hearing our voices for the next 2 months. Just please remember that we are 8 hours ahead of you.

So what does this have to do with shoes? First of all, I'm not sure how many size 15 shoes anyone has ever seen. The photo below illustrates just how big they are, when compared with my size 8.

My friend Bevie, on behalf of her great-nephew, asked me to bring a pair of shoes for him. Even if he could find his size in Israel the shoes are frightfully expensive. I was happy to oblige. I was going to give Bevie the shoes when I see her on Monday (we take a class together). But it turned out that the boy's father was available to pick them up and he came by to get them this morning.

What does this have to do with phones? The connection is Shabbat, which is the completion of creation. The two tasks I had to accomplish - getting my phone to work and delivering these gargantuan shoes - are done. And with candle lighting in about 15 minutes, my week's work is complete. Hardly compares to creating the universe, but now I can rest.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem.

Chesed Shel Emet

930PM. Thankfully no jet lag (or maybe it just hasn't hit yet). Setting my watch to Israel time helped, as did the late flight (9PM) out of Chicago.

We got to Jerusalem at 1130PM last night. Our flight left London an hour late, but passport control was a breeze and our luggage was among the first bags on the carousel. We got a sherut (shared taxi) immediately, and in spite of a couple of construction delays and an accident that caused a gapers' block we got to Jerusalem in 40 minutes. This apartment is a big improvement over the one we had last year, which could easily fit into this one's kitchen with space left over. The owner very kindly left us some food - a couple of rolls, cheese, some fruit, and the mandatory tomato and cucumber. We were very thankful because we were hungry and none of the nearby stores or cafes were open. By the time we ate and got the basic necessities out of our suitcases it was after 1AM. I slept well till 8; Sid didn't.

We had a leisurely morning, just trying to get our bearings in this enormous apartment with plenty of storage and closet space, and the ultimate kosher kitchen with not two but three sinks. The owner came over to give us an orientation; I had to take notes.

I then called Batsheva who happened to be in a ceramics class (her one day a week off from her high stress job) near downtown with her friend Clara, so we met for lunch in a wonderful Yemenite restaurant. I had red kubeh soup which was amazing. I had to cut our time short because Dori was on her way to stay overnight with us on a 24 hour leave.

It sort of takes your breath away when you open the door and your almost 20 year old soldier/granddaughter walks in.This was the first time we saw her in uniform. The only thing missing was a weapon, and when she told me she doesn't take it when she leaves the base I was not happy. I prefer that she be armed when she travels around by public transportation, but the army doesn't allow it, and I haven't yet figured a way to overrule the army. But I'm working on it.

We went out for dinner at Roza's, one of the many eclectic restaurants on Emek Refaim, Jerusalem's restaurant row. It's such a pleasure to talk to her about what she does as a drill instructor, her soldiers, commanders, life in the army ... and her boyfriend. She has learned every bit of army slang and all the acronyms, speaks Hebrew beautifully, and her English now has a very slight intonation. I get the sense that she is very grounded, centered, balanced and has her priorities right. We are so proud of her. Not sure when we will see her next; it depends on when she can get time off because she gets a new class of recruits in a few days.

About the title of this post: Chesed shel emet is a genuine act of kindness done for its own sake, which can never be repaid. Readers of this blog may recall that last year I attended a funeral. The deceased was Clara's husband. Today at lunch Clara told me how touched she and her daughters were that I was there and how my words of condolence meant so much. A person does good in this world when a small act of kindness still comforts the mourners a year later.

Lilah tov (good night) from Jerusalem.

Krav Maga

One of my goals for the 3 months we spent in Israel was to study krav maga. Naively I assumed it would be easy to find a suitable class.

I started well ahead of time by googling krav maga + Jerusalem. What I found was a fairly short list, and I contacted everyone on it. And I got answers, all of which were brief but encouraging - something along the lines of "you're welcome to train with us". I thought I would be able to visit and evaluate the various programs, and there was no doubt in my mind that I'd find more once we were settled. I couldn't have been more wrong. Of the schools I emailed, one was GU (geographically undesirable) as it was located in Maale Adumim which would have been fine if we had a car, but an hour each way without. After a class that ended at 10PM I didn't want to schlep on public transportation so I didn't even bother making a visit. Another, which was easy to get to by bus, was so esoteric I decided it wouldn't be a good fit. There was one more, also very GU, that was more for security professionals and I didn't want to get in over my head.

That left Moshe. He was one of the people I emailed, and one of the first calls I made after we arrived. His "school" is non-traditional, meaning he doesn't have a location, but spins it as "I'm the only one who trains outdoors". Like that's a good thing. He's also the only one I encountered who doesn't teach mixed classes. This wasn't a problem per se, but it did make a difference in cost. He would have been happy to take me on as a private student. I wanted to be in a class because it's better to have a training partner who isn't also the instructor, and it's about half the price. Problem was, he had no girl students. I decided to follow up anyway, and went to see a class. Unfortunately I got the time mixed up and by the time I arrived he was nearly finished teaching the regular class. But he did let me stay, and participate in, a weapons class. It was very cool, learning to disarm a gun and a knife. But it was also a bit repetitive, and it's not how I wanted to spend 2 days a week. He told me he was trying to form a class for girls and would be in touch.

About mid-way thru the 3 months I got a phone call from Shefa, who had been given my number by Moshe. She said he was trying really really hard to find an indoor training space (this was right around the time of the big snowstorm when the weather turned very cold after having been in the 70's for the first month and a half), and she wanted to know if I was still interested in training and when would I be available so we could get something going. The phone call was followed by an ongoing email correspondence for the next month. He had a space, he didn't have a space, she was having a hard time clearing her calendar to make a commitment to a twice a week class. Etc etc etc. It was becoming clear that this goal was not going to be realized.

When we were down to our last 2 weeks I had an out-of-the-blue email from Shefa, letting me know when Moshe would be available for private lessons only. I was somewhat out of sorts. I had already come to terms with the fact that my Israel experience wasn't going to include krav maga. I let it sit for about a week, then contacted Moshe. The fact is I really couldn't show up at my gym without at least some training. Time was getting down to the wire but we managed to schedule 2 lessons and I'm really glad it worked out. He's an excellent teacher and we packed a lot into 2 hours. He also has an interesting story, but it's not mine to tell. Next time I hope he will have a girls' class because I'd love to learn more.

Alles hat ein mal ein ende ... nur die wurst hat zwei

The title of this post is a German proverb which translates as everything has an end ... except a sausage which has two. It's something I quote ad nauseum, and I acknowledge any spelling mistakes.

Three months sounds like a long time but it's passed much too quickly. I'm now counting down in terms of "last" ... Monday was my last shiur at Yeshurun, tonight is the last of a series of lectures I've been attending at Pardes, tomorrow Sid returns from Sar-el for the last time, Friday is our last shabbat. AND I'M NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT.

When we got to this apartment and saw how small it is I thought we'd feel claustrophobic and hemmed in. We do, but that doesn't translate to being happy to leave, altho more than ever I will appreciate the space we have. We've made the apartment work, and I've become rather adept at producing a meal with 2 burners and a toaster oven. Over the past 3 months we've integrated into the neighborhood. Because we walk everywhere we've learned the shortest short-cuts (there's a saying in Jerusalem that for every short-cut there's a shorter cut.) We see people on the street and say hello. We know the people at the local laundry and the supermarket (one of the checkers has a big crush on Sid). I have a new best friend in Machane Yehuda (the guy who sold me our Thanksgivukkah turkey). I know which bakery has better cakes and which has better bread. It feels like home in a way that Chicago doesn't. It's small town familiarity vs big city anonymity.

We've been busy for the past couple of weeks, particularly when it dawned on me that we only had 2 weeks left.

The original plan was for both of us to go to Sar-el for the last 2 weeks of our trip, but we found out that our granddaughter Meital had been accepted into a high school semester abroad program and was coming to Israel a few days ahead of her group and wanted to stay with us. What grandparent would say no to that kind of offer? So I opted out of the army and extended our lease. Sid went to Sar-el on January 19, serving at Matzrap (the central medical supply base) for the fourth year in a row. He reported that nothing on the base has changed, but he worked in a different warehouse this time. The thing about working at Matzrap is that it's hard to come up with a clear winner as to whose warehouse is the best. All the managers (civilian employees of the military) have their own personalities and ways of working, they are all amazing people and very appreciative of the volunteers. The Sar-el volunteers provide 150,000 man-hours annually and do work that would otherwise have to be done by reservists.

The day he went to the army I met Batsheva at the bus station and we spent the day in Tel Aviv. It's only an hour drive and the bus service is excellent. We were on something of a mission; she had to locate a source for Purim supplies for the child care center she runs. There's a place in Tel Aviv not far from the bus station which is party city. I've never seen as many toy stores in one place in my life. The area is adjacent to a small market specializing in spices, cheeses and housewares, so more exploring. From there we hopped on a bus to Jaffa and went thru the flea market which is a destination in itself. It's a conglomeration of everything you would expect in a flea market and then some. Like everywhere in Israel it's experiencing a revitalization, so lost of construction, new boutiques and restaurants. We walked till dark, got on a bus that took us near the central bus station and walked the rest of the way thru a fairly seedy part of town. But seedy doesn't mean unsafe, at least not till much later at night. We got back to Jerusalem around 8.

 They still have donkey carts in Jaffa

 Flea Market shop

Construction and rehabbing in Jaffa



Next day we went on our overnighter. I had an appointment to see the new Ritz Carlton which opened in December (as we hunkered down with the snow storm) in Herzliya, a very upscale suburb just north of Tel Aviv. The Ritz puts Israel in the big leagues of international luxury brands; the idea of putting it in Herzliya is somewhat risky but I think it will be a success. From there we headed to Netanya, about half an hour to the north. I hadn't been to Netanya in about 40 years, and I remember it as being rundown and seedy in spite of it's fabulous location on the Mediterranean coast. A lot has happened since the last time, and similar to my new appreciation for Tel Aviv, I came away with an entirely new appreciation for Netanya. The new mayor has done wonders beautifying the city. There's a promenade along the shore, similar to the one in Tel Aviv. The low-rise buildings downtown are badly in need of an upgrade, but there's a stunning new plaza right in the middle of the shopping district with sidewalk cafes, sculptures and fountains. In a way it reminded me of the plazas in some of the smaller towns in Mexico. There's also a skateboard/bike rink which keeps homicidal teenagers away from pedestrians. What Netanya lacks is a really good hotel. It's not on the tourist map so there isn't much of a demand from the foreign market, and the locals who come for weekends and holidays are satisfied with the modest properties that are the antithesis of the glitz of the Dead Sea and Eilat. But like everywhere else in the country, things are changing. Netanya has had an influx of immigrants from France, and the effects are felt everywhere. Hence the beautification projects. And the incredible amount of building. And the restaurants. There is something very French Riviera-ish about the city. We totally lucked out with the hotel, randomly choosing the Seasons. It needs a facelift, but we had a suite with a huge balcony, the staff was very friendly and efficient, and the breakfast was first class.


The following day, Tuesday, January 21, we took a train ride. This was one of the things on my to-do list and for some reason Sid and I never made the time to do it. We just wanted the experience; it didn't matter where we went. On the way to the train station I somehow took a wrong turn and wound up at a construction site - several beachfront high rises that should be finished in the next few months and it's going to be beautiful. We finally found the station and got tickets to Tel Aviv, which is only about 20 minutes away. The train was on time, clean, quiet and quick. It let us off at a major mall with direct access from the station. We had about an hour to kill, and managed to do some shopping. Then back to Netanya to pick up the car and go to the airport to get Meital, whose plane landed 40 minutes early. Fortunately Dori was waiting for her in the arrival terminal; we got there about 5 minutes later.

 Looks like a train ... duh

 Soldiers on the way to or from their base

Batsheva and me





For someone who just got off an international flight Meital was amazingly wide awake. After dropping her suitcases off at our apartment she and Dori took a walk and I met them later for dinner. I left them to their own devices and walked back home. Meital came home a while later, thoroughly done in and ready for a solid night's sleep.

On Wednesday morning the girls went out on their own and I met up with them for lunch at Pinati, another well known hoummous restaurant which none of us had been to, altho it's been around for eons. The hoummous wasn't bad, but as I've written previously, not as good as Maatuk's. From there we went to the shuk to start shopping for Shabbat. The girls again went off by themselves for the evening, and I went to the third in a series of four lectures at Pardes, a graduate-level institute of Jewish learning that offers very high level courses and lectures and has been around for about 40 years.

On Thursday Meital and I had a day by ourselves and we went to the Bible Lands Museum. We walked, which is something that can only be appreciated by someone who knows the local topography. Sid and I had been to the museum, but the special "Book of Books" exhibit was well worth seeing a second time. There was a little boy, maybe 7 years old, at the exhibit with his mother. He was looking at a 1500 year old torah in a display case and started chanting, and did quite well. I complimented him later. It's astounding to think that a 7 year old can walk up to a 1500 year old scroll and chant from it as if it was printed yesterday.

On the way to the Bible Lands Museum




Sid came home from his first week in the army on Thursday afternoon and the four of us went to dinner at a place I've wanted to try at the Mamilla Mall - Luciana. The food was amazing. I had gnocchi with chestnuts, to give an idea of how creative restaurants have become.

At Luciana



Friday was all about food prep, laundry, cleaning and getting ready for Shabbat with our granddaughters.

 Snacking on hoummous

 This, believe it or not, is filet mignon

Couscous and roasted cauliflour

Roasted peppers, sauteed kohlrabi, leeks in hoummous sauce

Meital is a pescatarian, so we had to have fish - rainbow trout stuffed with dill

Enough for one overly-long post. Time permitting I will be able to write a concluding post covering our final week before we leave on Sunday.

Winding down

We don't entertain much.

Not that we don't want to, but this apt is just too small to a.) cook and b.) accommodate guests. Other than Thanksgiving (which seems like a lifetime ago) and having Dori here for Shabbat a few times, we haven't had people over. Till tonight, when Batsheva and Eli are coming for a one-day-after Tu B'Shvat (a late winter semi-holiday known as the new year for the trees) dinner. As I did for Thanksgiving, I had to plan the meal carefully, not just to fit the limited parameters of my kitchen, but to include the symbolic foods that are traditionally eaten on Tu B'Shvat: the seven biblical fruits (barley, wheat, olives, pomegranates, grapes, dates and figs). Try planning that kind of menu. But I managed; we are having salmon in an onion, orange and pomegranate sauce, barley pilaf with onions and raisins, a variant of ratatouille with olives, bread and dried figs and dates. To balance it off, I added leeks with hoummous and a kohlrabi/red pepper salad.

There is a point to all this, and it's not just to brag. It has more to do with the fact that we are in the home stretch of this trip, and there are things we have learned. One is that we overcame the challenge of living in a very small space. Another is that it's possible to cook on a 2-burner stove and toaster oven, although I don't want to make a career of it, and next time we come we will rent an apt with a regular oven and second bedroom. We have also managed very well without a car.

In a broader sense, I have a growing appreciation of what it means to live in this country. Yes, it's crazy and chaotic, plagued with problems, facing escalating threats not just from the neighbors but from an increasingly hostile west, shockingly expensive, frustrating in many ways ... I could go on and on. But that's the cup half empty version. There's another side of the story. Israel is one of the most dynamic places on the planet. In every area of life there are things going on here that are miraculous. Scientific discoveries, medical advancements, archaeological finds that validate the Bible, artistic experimentation, educational opportunities, cultural innovation. None of this makes it to the newspapers, so it remains one of the world's best kept secrets. We have attended more classes, concerts, plays, lectures and museums in the two and a half months we've been here than we normally do in two and a half years in Chicago.

If there is one adjective to describe everything about this country it's diverse. The people, the geography, the industry, the agriculture, the education, the culture, even the weather. Walk down any street in any city and you will see the rainbow coalition that everyone talks about but that no one else delivers. The urban areas are a paragon of diversity; not just Arabs and Jews living together in a peaceful and productive way. This is not simply co-existence. This is integrated. Add to the mix the thousands of Thais, Filippinos, Sri Lankans, Indians and Africans who make their homes here. They came to work and many stayed. There's nothing quite as eye-opening as seeing a religious Jewish family comprised of an Israeli father, Thai mother, and 3 composite children eating felafels at a sidewalk cafe. Or a religious Arab or Druse family splashing around in the pool at one of the Dead Sea hotels. Or Bedouin soldiers. Or the variety of prepaid phone cards for a dozen countries that are on sale at every kiosk in downtown Jerusalem. Or the people lined up at currency exchanges sending money back to their home countries. All these groups of ethnics are in the malls, on public buses, in the movie theaters and restaurants. There's a reason why this is so: they want it. Think about what that means the next time you hear about the latest frontal attack by the BDS movement or the media and academic elite.

And I have to, yet again, talk about food. The food is fabulous. I even met someone who told me he immigrated to Israel because of the food. Seriously. Walking through the produce market is an adventure under any circumstance. In fact, there are twice weekly tours of the market and they are always sold out. Agricultural innovation has produced leeks that don't have sand between the layers and avocados that don't turn black after being cut. Fruit is unfailingly sweet. Vegetables taste like they are supposed to taste. It also helps, as anyone who has shopped at a farmers' market knows, that what you buy today was picked this morning. Ditto for fish. One of the biggest innovations has been in the realm of dairy products. When I lived here we used to refer to cheese as sliced rubber and it came in two varieties: cottage and yellow. Both were tasteless. Now you can get every imaginable type of cheese, and some that are very innovative like cottage cheese with chopped olives. The yogurts and spinoffs such as leben, eshel and gil, were good then and have remained so, but with additional varieties. Probably the biggest area of improvement has been in meat and poultry. Back in the early 70's the meat was of poor quality and unidentifiable to an American shopper, since the butchering style here is European. While the style is still European, the quality is prime and it's possible to have an excellent, rare, filet mignon, something we cannot acquire in the US due to restrictions imposed on kosher meat. The chickens were scrawny and usually sold with lots of pin feathers and the feet attached. Now they are well fed, generally free range, and of very high quality. Bakery products were always good (too good), and there's more variety than ever. If we weren't doing so much walking I'd gain even more weight.

The fact that we are down to our last two weeks is sinking in, and I have no idea where the time went. Sid goes to the army on Sunday and I am taking a quick overnight trip with Batsheva. Meanwhile I realized I never included photos of the apt, so here goes:




 Our spacious living/dining/kitchen:

Our spacious bedroom.
The queen size bed and cupboard were assembled in the room.

Our spacious bathroom.
I had to get very creative to store our toiletries.

Tel Aviv

Along with the religious/secular divide, there is another categorical division in Israel: Jerusalemites and Tel Avivians. I am firmly in the former camp. I hate Tel Aviv, always did. When I lived here I avoided it at all costs. At the Burston Graphic Center I had to be in Tel Aviv once a week and it was grueling. I went into a trance and even tho every week we went to pretty much the same places my mind was perpetually blank; I had no idea where we were or how we got there. Even the vaunted beach was unpleasant. Tar was everywhere and the bottoms of my feet were black with a sticky oily substance that took days to wash off. The salt air ate away the stucco building facades, giving the city a seedy, decrepit look. Getting there was an ordeal. People used to pack a lunch because it took so long and the traffic was horrendous.

Fast forward four decades.

Tel Aviv is an award winning city. The beach was voted best on the Mediterranean. It's Bauhaus buildings are a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It holds the title of the World's Best Gay City. It's being rehabbed and cleaned up and has some remarkable new architecture. The 8-mile promenade that runs along the seashore north from Jaffa is a magnet for walkers, joggers and bikers. Rent-a-bike stations and beachfront bars and restaurants are plentiful up and down the promenade. Some of the worst slums have been rehabbed and are absolutely charming. The fashion scene is up and coming, as Israeli designers are making themselves known in New York, Paris and Milan. It's still the center of gravity for the art scene in Israel as it was 40 years ago. Along with that there's a growing music scene. Some of the best restaurants are in Tel Aviv and Jaffa. There are a number of new boutique hotels that compete with the high-rise hotels on the seashore. The sand is pristine. There are major and minor museums devoted to everything from art and culture to the Ben Gurion home. It's been called the city that doesn't sleep for a good reason; there's literally something going on 24 hours a day. And with the new roads that have been built getting there is quick and convenient.

So we took a little day trip. Since we didn't rent a car we have been using the excellent public transportation system most of the time. There is a bus from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv every 20 minutes and it takes an hour. The central bus stations in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv are also shopping malls, but not in the Water Tower or Old Orchard sense. They are more like indoor markets where you can get almost anything. The one in Jerusalem is pretty nice - Tel Aviv not so much - but both are lively and crowded. Since we didn't have a particular destination in mind, when we arrived in Tel Aviv we hopped on a bus that took us in the direction of the beach. The stop was about 2 blocks from the seashore. We walked for a while,stopped for lunch, then continued our walk along the promenade all the way to the marina some distance away. The beach wasn't crowded (it is after all January) but it also wasn't empty. While we only saw one person swimming, there were a couple of wind surfers, paddle boarders, a couple of fishing boats, and several sail boats on the horizon. There were a also 2 or 3 people fishing from shore.  It was amazing to see how much building is going on. Then we walked back to catch the bus; this time our route took us to the seedy, decrepit, falling apart Tel Aviv of days of old. But there was lots of scaffolding so there's hope for the future. The weather was pleasant, good for walking around. We didn't do any real sightseeing, no museums or even window shopping. It was just a few pleasant hours in a place I used to hate, but now find to be, well, tolerable. So in 40 years, who has changed ... me or Tel Aviv?