Netanya beach

Netanya beach
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Netanya: a wonderful sojourn

Like any popular beach destination, this Israeli city is totally geared-up for tourists. Ed Moss explains why he likes it nonetheless.

On a recent visit to Israel, we were based in Netanya, a bit like Blackpool without the pleasure beach, kiss-me-quick hats or fish and chips, but with plenty of sun, sea, sects (of all descriptions), wonderful cafés and restaurants, and with miles of unspoilt beach.

Braving the elements as well as the elephants (not that I am in any way suggesting some fellow tourists of the Russian kind might require XXXXXL clothing), we headed straight for the beach to enjoy a gas mark-7 few hours fending off the advances of sand into our every nook and cranny.

The police were in fine form as we fried, appearing none too keen on people, especially student types, bringing bottles of wine on to the beach. However, the thought of sipping over-temperate alcohol through sand-encrusted lips in the extreme heat is not really my idea of fun. Several of said student types were consequently escorted to the nearest litter bin for official disposal of the aforementioned bottles of vino.

Netanya Beach
© Edward Moss
Netanya Beach

Local customs

The following day, it being the holy Shabbat and we being in Israel, one can’t help but mention religion. Knowing Shabbat is meant to be a full day of rest (I wish someone could have told that to the impatient horn-pressing drivers outside our apartment) when nothing in connection with work should be done, dusted or in any way created; this includes, for example, using a lift in a building because the pressing of said lift button to open doors and operate said lift is said to be “creating” something.

Now, if any of the seasoned sages think that pressing a lift button is a form of work, I believe they need to perhaps compare and contrast the climbing of 254 steps in 36-degree heat to the 16th floor where our apartment was located as not being hard work. That is a mere 100 steps less than climbing to the crown of the Statue of Liberty! Please, dear religious Jewish reader, do not take offence when I say we took the lift.

Monday after the weekend, we decided on some swimming pool recreation and quickly concluded we could have done with contacting the BBC to see if they might be interested in a new nature programme about the surfeit of ants occupying the environs of the swimming pool. Yes, there were ants on deck, thousands upon thousands of them. You could almost hear the ant music as they sang “Stand and Deliver” (for those who don’t know, Adam and the Ants were a band, big in the 1980s). There was a wonderfully coordinated effort by several of the colony to move a potato chip from A (where it had fallen) to B (the entrance to their colony). It was absolutely fascinating to see these very small creatures work together to shift this chip that had to be the equivalent of at least a human dragging an Airbus jet along the airport tarmac. I was a little peeved that the ladies did not share our unbridled enthusiasm for the progress of this harmonious family Formicidae chip navigation.

Sadly, the chip was then suddenly abandoned by Adam and his ants so, being unable to now turn it into a book, movie or musical, we headed off to shower and then on to the 140-year-old former Templar colony that is the Sarona Market in Tel Aviv for some serious, ant-free retail therapy.

Sarona Market in Tel Aviv.
© Edward Moss
Sarona Market in Tel Aviv.

Onward to Jerusalem

We then spent a couple of days in Jerusalem. Having found out that the current Wonder Woman is an Israeli, I have to confess that wandering around Jerusalem, I did on occasion actually wonder about some of the women myself. I was to find out later that they were just Americans.

Like any modern city, the women to be most avoided are the young ones glued to their phones. They wander around totally zombie-like, phone in hand with thumb bent permanently in phone screen attack mode. When in England, I allow them to thump into my extensive frame; however, allowing either svelte young females wearing not much more that the clothes they were born in, or those in traditional Jewish or Muslim garb, bump into me, is not the best way to avoid a serious argument.

Iconic Jerusalem View.
© Edward Moss
Iconic Jerusalem View.

We made our way to the Old City and Western Wall to imbibe the view and take some photographs. We did this via the warren of covered streets that comprise the famous Old City market. The winners in the Old City are not the Jewish, Arab or Christian traders in their respective famous areas, but the wholesalers who provide them with their glorious stocks of Jerusalem-themed tat. There is so much to purchase, but nothing to buy, despite the temptation a wonderfully incongruous ‘Jerusalem snow globe’ provided: it's like London’s Camden Market on speed. However, despite what the Israel-detractors of this world say, it is a full-on and completely harmonious melting pot of all sorts. The detractors need to perhaps stop condemning from afar, get off their backsides, and come and see Israel for themselves.

Old Jerusalem Market
© Edward Moss
Old Jerusalem Market

This is driving, but not as we know it

My ‘relative’, Sterling Moss, (by the way he was not really my relative) was our sherut (shared coach, equivalent of the Dolmus in Turkey) driver for the journey back to Netanya. We are convinced he simply jammed a stick on the accelerator and then just turned the steering wheel occasionally to avoid oncoming trucks. The speed with which he hit the sleeping policemen (and possibly some real policemen too) was not in the manner Mercedes might have intended their executive-style coaches to be driven.

The end of a wonderful sojourn. And highly recommended.

Edward Moss
Edward Moss
Author
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