Neve Tzedek in the Rain

Despite our New Year Celebrations we rose at a reasonable hour on the morning of the first.

Breakfast was a simple continental not the Israeli breakfast extravaganza of 4 and 5 star hotels. And when most of the guests appeared at the same time it got a little crowded but the fruit juice and the coffee were fresh and the food tasty.

Normally our visits to Tel Aviv are spent on the beach or strolling along the promenade but then normally we visit in spring or summer. January 1^st in the middle of a storm the Tel Aviv promenade was so blowy we could hardly stand and the waves were racing up the beach in an exhilarating manner.Making headway against the wall of air was a struggle but I had plans!

Stormy Tel Aviv Beachfront

As we made our way South, leaving behind the 5-star hotels and entering the more rundown area of the city, a cloud rather violently dumped its quota of rain on our heads. We cowered in a bus stop and considered retreating to somewhere more sheltered. Instead we walked a short way farther and having turned down a grim alley entered into the charming beauty of Neve Tzedek.

Neve Tzedek was one of the first areas built outside Yafo (Jaffa) and is an enchanting oasis in the middle of bustling Tel Aviv. 

Its maze of narrow streets and historic architecture makes it an extremely pleasant place to stroll around, window shopping and maybe enjoying a coffee in one of the cafes.

We took our morning caffeine in a delightful gelateria that will require a return visit in a more ice-cream compatible season.

Of course at 11am on a Tel Aviv Friday most places are only starting to open up. Most of the people on the streets are walking their dogs. It seems as though everyone in Tel Aviv owns a small dog.

After winding our way through Neve Tzedek we continued down the wide boulevard of Nahalat Binyamin – surely home to most fabric shops than the rest of Israel put together.

A detour down Shefer St led to the hustle and bustle of the Carmel Market and then we were out on Allenby at the corner with King George opposite the famously trendy Shenkin St.

By this time we were hungry and I was curious what we would find to eat in a street which has lent its name to Israel's most well-known type of non-kosher ham.

The street itself is pleasant and there are plenty of people to watch so we braved the cold and sat at a table outside, warmed by mulled cider and a patio-heater, and did just that.

After lunch we trekked back to the beach front to retrieve our car and returned home to wish our family a Happy New Year having made a wonderful start  to 2016.

New Year 2016

For some inexplicable reason in Israel New Year is named after St. Sylvester.

Who? You may ask. And you would not be alone. Most Anglos (Israelis-from English speaking countries) have a similar reaction when their visit first coincides with the end of the secular year.

In the England I remember, New Year is more closely associated with images of the Roman Janus and wild bacchanalia than anything religious. During my childhood in the 1970s the BBC turned over its programming to BBC Scotland with Gaelic celebrations of Hogmanay involving haggis and sword-dancing.

And for most English-speakers Sylvester is a lisping feline constantly and unsuccessfully scheming to devour 'Tweety Pie'.

However it turns out that Sylvester is also the name of a pope who became a saint who is quite popular in Scandinavia.

St Sylvester and Constatine

I can only guess that the reason Israelis decided to name New Year after an obscure Scandinavian saint is due to the influence of Swedish kibbutz volunteers!

We haven’t ever made much of an attempt to celebrate New Year except for 1999-2000 when Israel was one of only 2 countries in the world not to hold millennial celebrations. We marked the occasion by trekking to a local dance club in the middle of a field. Nobody seemed to notice that we were the oldest there by several years except security guard who gave a broad grin at the sight of our child seat.

Oher years we tend to 'celebrate' by filling a glass with alcohol, falling asleep on the sofa, waking at 1:30am to make a half-hearted effort at emptying our glasses accompanied by a kiss and a 'Happy New Year' and then we drag ourselves to bed. Last year(I mean 2014) we just had a drink at 10pm and went straight to bed.

The reason for this apathy is that most years Eyal spends 31^st December stock-taking so that even if he arrives home on time he is exhausted – hence the falling asleep on the sofa. In addition 1^st January is an ordinary workday – hence the dragging ourselves to bed.

In Israel New Year is only really celebrated by young Tel Avivians – who are pleased for any excuse to party, and Israeli-Russians - who celebrate Novogod, an Orthodox Christian celebration that was drained of all religious significance by the Soviet authorities and is now considered a secular celebration by many Russian Jews.

Anyway in 2015 my husband moved to a different position at his company, one that involves no stocking-taking. Also 31^st December was a Thursday so no work the morning after!

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Luckily I had realised that our favourite pub Molly Blooms might be a bit busy and made reservations so when we arrived at 10:30 we were shown to a small table. It was somewhat squashed but we all shuffled round and soon made friends with our neighbours.

On one side were a family group covering a range of ages, their accents giving away their Irish ancestry. On the other side were an Israeli couple about our age who soon started chatting. Standing close to the bar were the younger contingent with any late comers that could squeeze in. And in the middle of the room were a couple of groups each including an woman aged about 50-60 with extremely short white-grey hair and long flappy designer dresses (a la Vivienne Westwood). So quintessentially Tel Aviv, at least for gauche Northerners like us! J

The wait staff were all charmingly friendly even though they barely had room to squeeze past and we quickly ordered drinks and some supper.

Guinness and burger for him, Fish&chips (with salt&vinegar not ketchup yay!)

Once the band started up with traditional Irish tunes everyone relaxed into the celebratory atmosphere. We were sitting close to the flutist and it was mesmerizing watching his fingers fly over the keys. He played such a variety of flutes and recorders and barely had time to drink his Guinness!

The band

Soon it was midnight, shot glasses of champagne were passed out and after the count down we all tried to remember the words to "Auld Lang Syne".

Pretty quickly after that people started to leave for home taking advantage of a break in the pouring rain.

Our table was next to the window and for most of the evening the view was of a blanket of rain, droplets tumbled this way and that by the howling wind. A few people passed by and some of the more curious gazed in most people retreated from the streets to somewhere warm and dry.

About 1am there was another break in the cloudburst and we trotted along to our hotel wrapped up tight in hats, scarves and gloves thankful for the decent winter coats we had bought last year in England.

After a short battle of strength with the wind in order to open the front door we were soon snuggled cozily in our room. The room was warm but opposite the hotel  was a building site and throughout the night the wind serenaded us, strumming an eerie lullaby on the metal construction spikes.