Larnaca to Tel Aviv – 24th October
Distance: 420.0 km – Elevation +8030 m -7970 m
Weather: Larnaca: rain. Temperature: High 24 degrees, Tel Aviv: Sunny. Temperature: High 27 degrees
There were thunderstorms during the night and the thunder and lightning woke me from a rather fitful sleep before the alarm I had set for 5.30 am. In those early moments of awakening, my thoughts reminded me that today I would reach Israel, the last of the eleven countries that I needed to pass through on my pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There was excitement as always about reaching and travelling through a new country, the unknown of a country I had never previously visited, but today there was also a feeling of perhaps regret that my pilgrimage was nearing its end.
The way out of the hotel took me through the family room where the owner, the mother who ran the hotel, was already up and about. I asked her where I could find a taxi to take me to the airport and she replied “ You should have asked me yesterday. What time is your flight?”, “Check-in is at 7.15 am,” I said, “I can take you for 20 euro” came back the reply. She led me to a side street next to the hotel where her rather ancient car was parked, a mark1 Ford Granada that had seen better days. There was no conversation between us as we drove through the rain, through the quiet streets of Larnaca missing the morning rush hour, and out to the salt lakes. It was a twenty-minute drive and I was inside the terminal by 7.15 am. There was already a queue at the check-in for my flight to Tel Aviv, and whilst queuing I was interrogated by Israeli security.
A full personal security check with many questions “why are you travelling to Israel”, “where have you come from”, and many other personal questions. The interview took around 20 minutes.
After the check-in, I had plenty of time before my 10 am flight so I was able to relax and enjoy a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and hash browns. There was another security check for non-Israeli nationals before boarding and consequently, the flight did not board until 11 am. The storms had passed but the sky was heavy with dark low-lying clouds as we taxied along the runway which ran close to the seashore, eventually rising into the sky at 11.10 am. There were spectacular views of the coastline and the village of Perivolia as we climbed into and above the clouds. It was a short flight and 30 minutes after takeoff I caught my first sighting of the Israel coastline, and 5 minutes later I was looking down on the city of Tel Aviv. The Arkia Airbus A321 landed at Ben Gurion Airport at 12 noon, exactly 50 minutes after taking off from Larnaca.
After collecting my rucksack from baggage collection and passing through customs control I found myself in the arrivals hall, and with people seemingly walking in all directions I needed time to relax and gather my thoughts. I stopped for lunch in a snack bar within the arrivals hall and soon realised that Israel was going to be an expensive experience. I purchased a sprite and cheese and tomato baguette and was charged 42 shekel ( £9!).
I had a few options for onward travel to my accommodation in Tel Aviv. Like most city airports Ben Gurion was located on the city outskirts, some 24 kilometres from the centre so walking was not really an option at this time of day, the alternatives were a taxi, bus or train and I decided to take the train to HaHagana railway station which would leave me with a 20-minute walk to Meir’s Boutique Guesthouse. The ten-minute train journey from the airport was standing room only. HaHagana station was very hectic and I was glad to reach the streets of Tel Aviv and have freedom from the crowds. Other than passing numerous members of the Israeli military making their way to the station and street names written in Hebrew I could have been in any other city in the world. I had no sense or feeling of being in the Holy Lands.
I arrived at the guest house after a 30-minute walk through typical city streets. The guest house was perfect, a delightful room with a balcony looking down on the street below, there was a communal kitchen and rooftop terrace.
It was a glorious afternoon when I left the guest house to explore my surroundings. I made my way through the not too busy streets heading for the Mediterranean and the ancient port of Jaffa. Jaffa is situated at the southern end of Tel Aviv and Tel Aviv was founded in 1909 as a housing estate on the edge of Jaffa. Originally just 66 houses it is now Israel’s second-largest city with a population of close to half a million. During the 110 years since its foundation, it has for many reasons sort of “gobbled up” Jaffa, and the city is now known as Tel Aviv-Yafo (Jaffa). Growing up as a child the name Jaffa was synonymous with oranges and for some reason, from the lessons that I learned at school, the name of Jaffa has remained in my memory. Somehow it seemed a place I was destined to visit. It is claimed as the oldest seaport in the world and is mentioned in several biblical stories in both the Old and New Testaments; including the prophet Jonah’s struggle with the commands of God, and where, whilst staying with Simon the Tanner, “God gives Peter a vision in Acts chapter 10. This vision would begin to break down the separation that existed between believing Jews and god-fearing Gentiles.”, it is also where St. Paul was jailed before sailing to Rome, to stand trial.
It was a 30-minute walk to reach the sea and my first view of the Mediterranean from the Holy Lands. The waves gently breaking on the golden sands of Charles Clore beach which stretched out before me with the high-rise buildings of central Tel Aviv creating a spectacular skyline. There were no swimmers and the beach was sparsely populated with sunbathers, it was a remarkably peaceful scene. I was now on the edge of Jaffa Old Town and I continued along the promenade with its historic buildings. I passed by the oldest extant mosque in Jaffa, the 17th-century Al-Bahr Mosque (Sea Mosque) which was used for prayer by sailors and fishermen before going out to sea. Soon after I passed the Armenian St. Nicholas Monastery, built before 1000 AD to welcome pilgrims who disembarked in Jaffa on their way to Jerusalem, and then came the Greek Orthodox Monastery of the Holy Archangels, restored in 1852 by Patriarch Cyril II, it was mostly destroyed by fire in 1961 and rebuilt in 1994. It was late afternoon as I continued walking towards the old port area, there were very few people walking and restaurants were yet to open, a fishing boat was just entering the harbour as I came to a notice board which told me I was in the “Consul’s Neighbourhood” – “From the mid-19th century until World War I, subsidiary consulates – of Great Britain, Germany, Greece, Persia, Russia, the United States, France, Austria, and Spain – operated in Jaffa. They were clustered in the Christian quarter above the port. The subsidiary consulates reported on what was happening in Jaffa, intervened in its administration, and protected the rights of its foreign citizens.” A notice written in Hebrew, Arabic, and English above the opening cut into the sand-coloured stone of the old city walls welcomed me and invited me to climb the old stone steps into “Old Jaffa”.
The steps led me through delightful small alleys mostly restored in the 1970s, but this was still old Jaffa, where the Apostles Peter and Paul had walked 2000 years before and where the third crusade ended at the Battle of Jaffa in 1192, which led to a truce between Richard I and Saladin. I passed by Simon the Tanner’s house and came to Kedumim Square and St.Peter’s Church where I sat and enjoyed supper in a small restaurant close to the church. After supper, I walked to the city walls and watched the sun beginning to set over the old port and the Mediterranean sea reflecting on my first day in the Holy Lands.
