Bayit banamal
I’m not the first to write about Tel Aviv’s namal, the refurbished port/boardwalk at the northern end of the city. And I must confess a ‘hubati’ (read below) love for strolling along its wooden planks, hillocked in some places to encourage kids on scooters, bikes and skateboards, and with just the right kind of cafes and restaurants along its length. (Although, as my mother pointed out recently, there are not enough benches for just sitting and looking at the sea.)
(‘Hubatim’ or a ‘hubati’ — pronounced cho-BA-tim — is someone or those from Holon/Bat Yam. It’s a tongue-in-cheek/somewhat derogatory term for the Tel Aviv version of the bridge-and-tunnel crowd, those who don’t actually live in Tel Aviv, but come in from the outskirts to enjoy ‘the big city.’ Another TLV friend of mine has a kindly term for those of us who don’t live in the Big Orange, ‘ambassadors and diplomats.’)
This isn’t an entry about hubatim, however, rather about a societal development that I noticed at the namal. Sure, it’s got the shopping, the restaurants, the event halls and bars. But during the day, besides the ‘ambassadors and diplomats’ strolling along the boardwalk, as well as the tourists and unexplained working-age people who are hanging out rather than working — btw, they must be freelancers — there are many, many moms with babies, pushing strollers and carrying babes in slings. Sure, it’s a nice place to stroll when you’ve got a kvetchy ankle-biter. And the Israeli commercial network is clearly starting to feed into that trend, with a Steimatzky’s for kids, a Shilav (of course), including a lovely playground outside the store, and Dyada, a kind of club for babies and their parents.
It’s all quite baby-friendly, which is a helpful thing when you’re trying to negotiate the real world from the vantage point of a double stroller loaded with two one-year-olds. Then again, all they really wanted to do was crawl after the seagulls.
Photo credit: Debbie Zimelman
Sunday papers
Given my recent homeboundedness (not surprising with nearly nine-month-old twins), my happiness knew no bounds when my husband urged me to buy tickets for the Joe Jackson concert last Thursday night in Tel Aviv. A concert! With old fave Joe Jackson! In Tel Aviv! At Hangar 11 in the Namal!
The concert was fun — what’s not fun about a night off in Tel Aviv with two friends and no babies — but low-key. Joe, it must be said, was in great form, played a good amount of his newer music from more recent albums, but allowed for a solid number of older numbers, including ‘Sunday Papers,’ ‘Steppin’ Out,’ ‘Fools in Love’ and ‘Is She Really Going Out With Him,’ my own personal favorite and his very last encore of the night.
At 53, the tall, thin Jackson, in his dark suit — no tie — and slicked back hair — hard to tell if it’s gray or still blonde — sat at his piano and sipped at a thermal mug throughout, sometimes chatting with the audience. It was his second time in Israel, having been here last summer, and he was clearly pleased to be back. But while he’s got fans here, he couldn’t sell enough tickets for two nights of performances, and they ended up combining the two shows into one. Even then, the port’s spacious and starkly black Hangar 11 wasn’t filled, which made for lots of space and extra chairs for putting up one’s feet. This was not a dancing crowd, and if you wanted to get up and boogie, you were told by the ushers to do so in the wide side aisles.
And as to be expected at the performance of a former angry New Wave musician who came of artistic age in the late 1970s, the crowd was mostly older, 30s, 40s and 50s, with some teenagers brought along by their parents.
So it was a sedate crowd, one which was content to sit in the comfortable black chairs, sipping their beers and drinks, laughing when Jackson good-naturedly told some audience members: “Shut up, I don’t take requests!”
I can imagine that it’s boring to constantly be asked to play one’s older numbers, particularly when you’ve been doing this for the last 25 years, as Jackson has. And what’s interesting about his newer albums, which I’m not as familiar with, is that their sound and words bear the unmistakable stamp of Joe Jackson, and are therefore easy listening, although not to be mistaken for Muzak-like ‘easy listening.’ As always, the never-married Jackson sings about love and unrequited love, lonely nights and how to survive the solitude.
Fools in love they think they’re heroes
’cause they get to feel no pain
I say fools in love are zeros
I should know, I should know
Because this fool’s in love again
Tel Aviv is the new Miami
The Tel Aviv municipality has launched several information points for tourists – except you might have a tiny bit of a problem locating them since they are mobile!
Our friends at Green Prophet report:
The unique, colorful Segways can be found on the streets of Tel Aviv seven days a week from 13:00 – 19:00, particularly in areas of concentrated tourist traffic such as the Tel Aviv Port, the boardwalk or tayelet along the seashore, Jaffa, the Neveh Tzedek neighborhood and Rothschild Boulevard. The stewards on the Segways offer tourists general information and details about events and special happenings in the city, and distribute maps, flyers and promotional material that will help the tourist make the most out of his time in the city.
It seems like Tel Aviv has finally warmed up to the huge potential the city has a tourist destination and the potential revenue that such a destination can bring. The Association for Tourism Tel-Aviv-Jaffa has also recently launched a new website promoting tourism to Tel Aviv (though the video on launch is a huge web design no-no). The site features events, nightlife, restaurants, free walking tours, bus tours and of course Tel Aviv’s incredible and accessible beaches.












