Tel Aviv seems a familiar place, Buzzing, lively, cosmopolitan. Full of life. It’s like Paris with its cafes spilling out onto the pavement. Or New York with its loud, vibrant buzz. But it’s also got hot heat and, more importantly, it’s got the beach.
The beach is extraordinary. Deep and clean, fine sand. The sea is clear and lively. Waves breaking but nothing that’s going to scare the horses. The people fit the scene perfectly. Lots of people hanging out in the hot heat, all members of The Beautiful Body Club. The men don’t wobble, the women all look perfect in their barely there bikinis, all tanned and lithe. It helps that no one’s under 35. It’s like Logan’s Run.
And it’s a curious thing. When I was planning to come here, some people – the Jews who’d been – said “It’s amazing. Everyone you see is Jewish. It’s an extraordinary idea, we’re the people. We’re not a silent minority. The bloke driving the cab, he’s a Jew. The waiter. He’s a Jew. The people fixing the roads. Jews. The bus driver. Jew. Those people in the bar at the table next to yours. Jews. There’s a gang of young black lads, same as you’d see back home, but then you look again and two of them, on their heads… Jews.
At first it’s a novelty. Then it’s a bit confusing, because if these people are Jews – especially the beach Jews – they aren’t like any Jews I’ve ever seen. My Jew is still a bit Whitechapel, still a bit New York. My Jew has a paunch and is balding. The men, too. Maybe they’ve got a bit of hayfever, definitely an allergy. I’ve got two hernias and a torn cartilege in my knee. That’s supposed to be how Jews are. These Tel Aviv Jews are uber-Jews. Jew 2.0. Bigger, better.
Actually, I love the idea that everyone’s a Jew. It makes perfect sense to me that there’s this place and everyone’s a Jew. It’s like going to France and everyone’s French. “This is France and it’s where the French live. This is Israel and it’s where the Jews live”. Or should that be, “This is Israel and it’s where the Israelis live”? But that rather begs the question: who are the Israelis?
There are Israeli Jews and there are Israeli Arabs. The Israeli Arabs aren’t Palestinians, but are the Palestinians Israeli Arabs? I don’t know, but by the time I go home I will.
This much I have found out. I’m not sure about Israel being the chosen land, but I’m pretty sure Falafel is the chosen food.