Israel for first timers

"I've been skiing," said our taxi driver. "I said, 'I just want to rent your skis for a couple of hours.' The lady said, 'We only rent by the day.' So I said, 'OK, I'll pay you for the day, but I will bring them back in a couple of hours. I just want to go up and come down one time.' 'What about lessons?' she asked. I said, 'I'm an Israeli. If I'm going to do something, I just do it'." Here he broke off in his story to laugh. "I didn't know where I was going, so I just followed these two guys up to the top. When I got to the bottom, there was a little crowd waiting for me. Turns out, I'd gone down – what is it called? A red? A black? A hard slope, anyway – and they all wanted to see if the crazy Israeli would make it down alive." More laughter.

Thus we met our first Israeli in Israel.

Now I want to dispel some myths.

First, the one that says Israelis are rude. I found them to be friendly, helpful and chatty. Straight talking, sure, but rude? No. You can never sum up millions of people under one description, but during the week I was there I didn't encounter any rudeness.

Second, Tel Aviv's Bauhaus district is small. Absolutely not. In fact, there isn't so much a 'district' as a city filled with these lovely buildings all over the place, interspersed with skyscrapers and markets.

Third, before we went, I read a lot on the internet about how tricksy it is to go from Israel to the Palestine Territories and back again. We encountered absolutely no problems doing this. None.

If you only have a week, as we did, here is one way to fill it:

Spend the first two nights in Tel Aviv. We stayed at the Vera Hotel, on Lillianblum, which is pretty bang central – that is, near lots of cafés, restaurants and, crucially, Anita's ice cream parlour, which is on the corner of Pines and Shebazi streets. Best things about the Vera are free wine and bar snacks at any time, lovely roof terrace, friendly staff, great breakfast and its commitment to showcasing local producers, whether that's the decoration, the produce it serves or even the toiletries in the bathrooms. We were there during its soft opening, but it looks as if a spa is on the cards and, interestingly, there are rooms for under $100 on the ground floor, making it accessible to a wide range of wallets.

During your days, go to Old Jaffa, which is the fascinating oldest part of the city. A tour guide isn't a bad idea, just to get some background info, but you can wander by yourself and pick up the vibe. There's cool street art, like Ran Morin's Floating Orange Tree, and some great harbour-side seafood restaurants.

You'll also want to wander Carmel Market, which sells every kind of fruit and vegetable under the sun, or so it seems, plus baklava, breads, candies, cheese and non-edibles like menorahs and Stars of David, as well as crosses.

All the while keep your eyes peeled for the beautiful Bauhaus buildings and, of course, head to the beach, which stretches for some 8.5 miles. It's technically divided up into different bits, including Dog Beach, with doggy showers and such like; Separate Beach, which has female and male days for the religious orthodox; plus plenty of stretches, like Jerusalem Beach, where you can hire loungers and umbrellas by the day and just hang. In fact, if you hang long enough, a waiter will come from one of the beachside cafés and take your order. Not a bad way to spend a few hours and the water is crystal clear clean.

At night, eat at the Cuckoo's Nest, which is a restaurant (have the tempura prawns and fries), bar (anything with gin seems to work), performance space, antique emporium, doggy shop (as in, for all your dog's needs – coats, boots, collars), art gallery, rooftop bar, plant-sale space, all leading off a central semi-covered courtyard in a half-ruined building. In fact, if you've been to a Budapest ruin bar, you'll find yourself comparing the two.

Your second night, go the other way and eat at Rendezvous, an upmarket corner spot near the Vera (and Anita's) serving house-made bread that's good enough to be a meal all on its own. Tip: book a table if you want to sit outside.

It occurs to me I'm going too slowly for a blog, so I'll pick up the pace.

You've now been in Israel for two nights. It's time to move on to... Banky's Walled Off Hotel. It's in Bethlehem, the other side of the wall and Checkpoint 300. And now to dispel a few more misconceptions...

If you read everything on the internet, you'll believe that somehow you're not supposed to go here or that you'll have trouble finding it or that google maps will lead you astray... None of this was our experience. We took the bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. You buy your ticket as you board, the journey lasts about an hour and deposits you at Central Station. From here, it's a two city-bus journey to Checkpoint 300. Google was perfectly useful in guiding us to bus stops and suggesting which bus to take.

The second bus, which brings you right to the checkpoint, was full of men, old and young and every age in between. There was one other woman on the bus aside from me. Did it feel threatening? Did it feel edgy? Not even a little. But it was packed. On the other hand, we did choose to do this journey toward the end of the working day and they were returning home to the West Bank, so this was to be expected.

When you get off at the checkpoint, my top tip is: do NOT get in an unmarked car which offers you a lift. You will be fleeced. Simply walk through the checkpoint – foreigners are pretty much waved through – and then get in a real taxi the other side for a journey that shouldn't cost you more than 10 ILS (about £3). Just say Walled Off and all the taxi drivers know where it is.

The Walled Off is a wonderful hotel. Full of quirks and interesting things, like a hidden door that leads to the nine guest rooms, waiters in red waistcoats and an almost David Lynchian dynamic. Each room has been individually curated, presumably by Banksy himself, and you are given an inventory to check off, to deter you from nicking stuff, which was something of a surprise, but I guess Banksy's a bit of a Midas and they don't want people profiting by their stay.

Also in the hotel is a gallery (not Banksy's work) and a little museum, chronicling the troubles the Palestinians have endured. Top tip: take the Green Olive tour of nearby Aida Refugee Camp. By the way, this is not a camp with tents, but buildings that mostly went up 70 years ago and people have been living here ever since. Your guide is a local man who will share his family's story and the story of the camp, and it's fascinating.

We ate dinner in the hotel – pizzas – and breakfast the next morning, which was vast and served on lovely old Victorian china. We then took a taxi tour – that is, a taxi driver took us, no real 'tour' as such – to Jericho, where we walked around Hisham's Palace (basically the ruins of a place that must have been vast and grand) built about 734 CE. There was also a stop at Zacchaeus's tree, mentioned in the bible as the place where Jesus spoke to the tax collector. And, at last, the great treat: the Dead Sea.


Another myth to be dispelled. This is not a place for a refreshing dip. Remember, you are below sea level, so it's very hot. The immersion happens in a designated place, that has changing rooms, showers, a café, a couple of shops and many, many steps down to the water. The water itself is almost slimy and viscous. Of course, it does what you hope it will and holds you completely buoyant. I tried lying front downwards and it just popped me up again, so that really, the only way to be in it is to sit in it, but this isn't relaxing. There were people smearing themselves with the mud, which is meant to be so good for you, but I started to feel the need to get out fairly quickly. Tip: bring a towel and try to take a shower before you leave the compound, or you will feel sticky and itchy all the way home.

We had one more night at the hotel, but ate dinner down the road at one of the restaurants recommended by the reception staff.

Not being churchy people, the stand-out site in Bethlehem for us was the graffiti on the wall and if you want to add to it, there's a helpful shop – named Wall Mart – next door to the hotel that will sell you spray paint, face masks and even offer stencil classes.

Jerusalem is a completely different kettle of fish than Tel Aviv. Where Tel Aviv feels a bit like New York, with lots of cool kids on their laptops and folks getting around on electric scooters, Jerusalem is like the frowning uncle making you feel bad for being boisterous. Of course, it's very beautiful as well, and fascinating, but the old city, even on a Friday, is packed. My favourite bit was watching the woman near the Wailing Wall, whose job was shouting at people who took their phones out. "No pictures! NO pictures! Put that away. I said, PUT THAT AWAY!" What a great job. Just think of all the aggression you could release...

We stayed two nights in a hotel that had looked so promising on the web and, while the staff were very nice and it was a beautiful building in a lovely residential area, I won't give its name away as they couldn't seem to rid the bathroom of someone else's hair.

Our other big destination in Jerusalem was Yad Vashem, the World Holocaust Remembrance Center. While we were queuing up to get a map, a man and woman in front of us were asking the older woman at the desk to check something for them and she was turning the pages of a big notebook, scanning down lists. They looked anxiously on.

This is not a place you visit lightly, but it must be visited. I felt its pull all the way from England. In the actual museum building (there are many other buildings and gardens there, honouring and recording and illustrating and remembering the horrors and the people who died during this terrible time), I came upon a panel about Kurt Weill, the German Jewish composer who left Berlin in 1933 after being persecuted by the Nazis and who eventually settled in America – next door to where I lived as a teenager. He died before I was even born, but his widow, Lotte Lenya, still had the house when we were there, and it was both startling and comforting somehow – like seeing an old friend – to find him in the museum.

I also saw the couple from the map queue again, going into a glassed off room where a lady sat with more big notebooks and a couple of computers. "We're looking for our father...," the woman said, as the door shut softly behind her.

Day two in Jerusalem was taken up entirely by a tour to Ein Gedi, Masada and the Dead Sea (again) run by an outfit called Tourist Israel. Our guide was a Texan named Brian and while this was initially slightly disconcerting (shouldn't he be a local person?), he was bursting with more information than he had time to tell us and he did his best to cram as much history and inside gen into us as he could.

First stop was Ein Gedi, an oasis in the desert which was extraordinary for three reasons. One, there were ibex's just wandering around near the path, nonplussed by the groups of people oohing and ahhing at them. Two, the beautiful waterfall and brilliantly clean-enough-to-drink water. Three, the desert rabbits, who were impossibly cute.

Next up was Masada, the site of a massive stand-off between the Jews and the Romans, with incredible far-reaching views over the Judean Desert and the Dead Sea to Jordan. Tip: bring water.

Finally, back to the Dead Sea, where the rest of our party scrambled into their swimsuits, but we sat it out by a conventional pool on sunloungers. Yes, I know, how many times do you get to go in the Dead Sea, right? But once seems to have been enough for me.

And so back to Tel Aviv for the final night, which was spent at Fabric, another new hotel with yet another fantastic roof terrace to hang on and absolutely the best breakfast spread we encountered the whole week. We had an amazing dinner at Abraxas North, which is a celebrity chef owned place with sharing plates that are actually big enough to share.

Our final day had us wandering through Carmel Market one last time, meandering down a crafts market we stumbled on and going to the beach for a last hit of sun and sunshine. Fabric very kindly let us come back to use their rooftop shower and change for the trip home.

"You liked Israel?" our (different) taxi driver said on the return to Ben Gurion Airport.

"Loved it," I said.

"Ah, you'll be back."

St Petersburg in three days

Saimaa Lake, Lappeenranta, Finland

I haven't stopped travelling, but have been taking a break from blogging about it, since my trip to Budapest back in March. Why? I asked myself. Was I becoming lazy? Thinking not many people were reading my blogs anyway, so why bother? Was my reporting back so poor that it wasn't worth recording? Or had I discovered that the whole blogging thing was just one small step away from the selfie-look-at-me kulture that I find so abhorent?

Maybe the answer is a bit of all of them, but those of us who feel compelled to write can't seem to stop, whether or not we're read. Like the painter who paints for the enjoyment of the act itself, for that sense of 'flow', when we're in the moment and that's all that matters. So, here I am, back. Whether I catch up or just start again from here is a wait and see scenario.

At any event, I'm just returned from Finland last night. It was a trip taken with two friends and went like this: London to Helsinki by plane, train to eastern Finland, another train to St Petersburg in Russia and back again.

Finland is a lovely country in the summer. I'm quanitifying it because I've never been in winter, but certainly when the sun is shining, it's hard to imagine why anyone would want to live anywhere else. People are, in general, polite, friendly, honest (that is, there's a low crime rate) and the lifestyle is enviable, with lots of outdoor pursuits in beautiful places.

Washing rugs

Lappeenranta, where we stayed with a friend, is based around Saimaa Lake, and is both cosmopolitan (lots of coffee shops and yachts, which gleam invitingly in the marina), and small-town traditional, so people know each other and stop for a chat, and still bring their rugs down to the washing pier to stand in giant rubber pots sunk into the jetties, so they're at water height and can scrub without doing their backs in.

Cycling is safe, because there's not much traffic and there are dedicated cycle routes; a market runs seemingly daily, selling fresh produce, and you could, if you had time and an inkling, go swimming, take a boat cruise up through the vast lake network all the way to the Baltic Sea or tootle along on your borrowed bicycle (yes, there's a hire scheme here), stopping for a mango syrup and soda water by the lakeside when the mood takes you.

Getting a visa to visit Russia is a journey in itself. There's a lo-o-o-o-o-n-g, sometimes confusing application to fill in, heaps of information that's required (current and previous passport numbers, grown children and ex-husband's current addresses, bank accounts, social media accounts, proof of income, job held, everywhere you've visited for the past 10 years - yes, really), plus, you can't just rock up and find a place to stay. You have to know the name and address of your hotel. There's more, but you get the gist.

St Petersburg

Partially because of the visa malarky and partially because of what we in the West hear and read, we were expecting - still - a heavy-duty Soviet feel to the country, with a scary police presence. Imagine our surprise when what we found was a large European-feeling city, no security in evidence and very little that suggested that we were even in a post-Communist country. There were Starbucks, Burger King, Coca-Cola, hawkers selling boat cruises on every corner and plenty of souvenir shops.

It was also beautiful. If you love Art Nouveau, you will love simply walking around and gawping at the statues straining to hold up pedaments on building fronts; cherubs gamboling above doorways and decoration at every turn. Favourite buildings include the Singer House; the New Hermitage, with the black granite Atlantes statues in the portico; and the random sightings of black apartment blocks amid the pastel-painted houses beside the canals.

If you're only there for three days, as we were, how best to see the most? Here's what we did:

View from the Hotel Moscow

Stay: at Hotel Moscow. Most rooms overlook the Neva River – definitely ask for this view, as the alternative is a close-up of an office block. Decor is plain and functional, but rooms are comfortable, buffet breakfasts (included) are vast and downstairs is a surprisingly good in-house restaurant, a couple of souvenir shops and you'll be next door to a metro stop and Nevsky Parade, the main artery, with plenty of buses down to the other end, where the so-called historic heart of the city is.

Buy: a metro/bus card from any metro station. We inadvertently bought a week's one, thinking we were getting a mere five journeys, and found it incredibly useful (if you get on the wrong bus, for instance, you can just jump off and get one going back) and great value. At the time of our visit, in August 2018, it cost approximately £8.

Alexander's Column

Day 1: go on the St Petersburg Free Tour. It meets rain or shine at 10.45am at the base of the Alexander Column in Palace Square in front of the Hermitage. Our guide, Demi, spoke perfect English, was very personable and happy to be asked anything. It's three-hours long, which passes quickly, and is a great introduction to the city's main sights as well as providing a bit of history. Useful to know is that there's a toilet/drink stop about halfway through. Eat lunch in the Singer Building, where the tour ends. After lunch, visit the gaudily decorated Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood, which is around the corner.

Church of the Spilled Blood

Day 2: take a boat trip, as this is a city of canals and a vast river. There are plenty to choose from, but we specifically wanted the hop on/hop off boat with the most stops and were very happy with the one we took, which starts at the Admiralty Embankment every hour 11am to 5pm, May to October and has stops at the Peter and Paul Fortress, the Summer Garden and Fabergé Museum, among others.

Peter and Paul Fortress

Day 3: visit the Hermitage, the vast palace-now-art museum. Yes, it will be crowded and you will flag to the point where even the Rembrandts start to blur together, but it is incredible and has to be done.

The Hermitage

Top tip #1: buy your ticket in advance before you even get to St Petersburg. It will cost you a bit more (at the time of writing £14 instead of £8 on the door), but is worth it to skip the hour-long ticket queue. With your internet ticket you will go to a special entrance on the side of the New Hermitage and walk straight in.

Top tip #2: eat lunch in the General Staff Building across the square from the Hermitage. Ignore the misleading name: this is simply where the more contemporary art is displayed and there's a great café on the ground floor with a good vegetarian stir-fry option that's tastier than it sounds. It's much emptier over here and if you eat on the late side you'll find a table easily.

Kunstkamera

Of course, you'll do tons of walking, which is a great way to see any city. And, as a side, slightly quirky visit, you could peel off and pop into the Kunstkamera. Though similarly painted green and white outside, inside it is the opposite of the Hermitage: creaky staircases, dusty dioramas, old-fashioned displays of ethnography – which is somehow charming for its lack of pomp and glitz. It also houses a peculiar collection of early 19th-century fetuses. Look away now if you're easily spooked, but it's a room of glass cases containing jars of two-faced babies, cyclopses and Siamese twins, as they used to be called and is why the queue can go 'round the block for this place.

We spoke no Russian, though I did manage to learn how to say hello ('preejet') and thank you ('spasibo') and both received smiles whenever I used them, so I recommend being polite and learning at least these two words – though, please, go to YouTube for the correct pronounciation!

The best of Budapest in 72 hours

Parliament

Rum Hotel

Let's go to Budapest, I said to my friend. Yes, let's, friend agreed. We met up for a planning evening and agreed an itinerary so we could fit everything in. Yay.

Why Budapest? People asked me. Really? Have you not heard about this beautiful city with a fascinating history? My answer? Why wouldn't you want to go?

To get a jam-packed visit on a budget, here's what you need to know:

Roof crosses

1. There is now a bus directly from the airport to the center of the city, with the last stop at Vösüsmarty tér, which is pretty much Pest central. It's the 100E and costs 900HUF, which is about £3.50 (or was, in March 2018). It takes about an hour, but is very popular, so not everyone gets a seat. You can also get a taxi, which is more expensive, but not crazily so (about £18),

Breakfast view

2. We stayed at the Rum Hotel, which was very convenient: about 2 tram stops from Vösüsmarty tér or a 10-minute walk. About 15 minutes' walk from the Jewish (aka 'Party') district where the ruin bars and much nightlife takes place, as well as even closer to the Central Market Hall and the very pretty No 2 tramline route, that runs along the Danube and which you'll no doubt ride a number of times. For a room with a double bed and a sofa bed, it's about €120 per night and that includes a good buffet breakfast with fantastic views of the Liberty statue. Two drawbacks: one, the lighting in the rooms is dim. Like, too dark to read by. We figured it was aimed at the 'screen-reading only' crowd, but it was a little wearisome to be in gloom; and two, the bathroom doesn't provide 100% privacy. This seems to be a hotel trend. Note to hotels: no one wants to watch or hear their friend or partner do their toilet. No one. Moving on...

Central Market

3. The Gelert Baths. These are fantastically ornate thermal pools in a neo-Classical building on the Buda side of the river. Pricey by locals' standards (about £12pp), but for a one-off, worth it to see the cupid statues and marvel at the tiling. There's a swimming pool, plus four increasingly hotter pools, plus treatments and steam and sauna rooms. Warning: you will feel incredibly relaxed after you've been, so don't do this first thing in the morning as we did - save it for the end of the day when you can go back to your room and collapse.

4. If you like food (who doesn't) stop in the Central Market on your way to the baths. It's another beautiful building and there's every kind of pastry, paprika, fruit, veg, meat and bread on the ground floor. Upstairs is 'Hungarica', or what the rest of us might call tourist tat, but still fun to look at and where you might buy your postcards.

5. We went to The Makery, a concept/experiential restaurant in the Jewish District. The idea is to make eating out a more hands-on thing, so you're given an iPad, from where you choose from the menu, your ingredients are brought to you (almost) all pre-prepared – except for an apple we had to peel and which friend had great difficulty getting to grips with, which put her in a bad mood about the whole thing – and then you follow the very simple step-by-step instructions. The upside? You produce dishes that actually look exactly like the picture and are certainly different from anything I would normally make (apple beer soup anyone?). The downside is that making your own dinner is time-consuming, so either don't come too hungry or come early enough that you can wait to eat.

View of Budapest from the hills

6. Getting around is easy. Really easy. Before you leave the airport, buy a 72-hour tourist travel card. It's actually more of a piece of paper, but at approx £12 is a bargain and means you can jump on and off the buses, trams, metro, water ferry and most everything else except the children's railway, the funicular and the chairlift. But don't let that stop you taking these modes of transport. The highlight of our visit was getting the No 4 tram from Pest over the Margit hid (bridge) to Széll Kálmán tér (a tér, by the way, is a square), taking the little escalator up to a higher street to catch the bus to the Hotel Budapest. Opposite this is the Cogwheel Railway, which you ride up into the hills, before changing over to the Children's Railway, which is a wonderful thing. Kids aged from 11-14 sell you the tickets, wave the train on, main the coaches as guards and generally do everything but drive the engine. It's a leftover from Communist days and a must-do.

You also get fantastic views back from the hills to Budapest. To make the journey complete, on your return journey, hop off at the Libegö stop and walk up the trail through the woods about 20 minutes, then get the chairlift down. 

Szempla kert

7. Of course, you'll have to go to Szempla kert, the biggest and best-known of the ruin bars. What's a ruin bar? Re-purposed old-style apartment buildings that were built around courtyards, now turned into banging clubs. Each room of the apartments has a different scene, from cocktail bar to craft-beer stall to speakeasy-type vibe to loud, thumping nightclub sort of thing. Szempla kert has all kinds of odd bits and pieces crammed into it and, like all the ruin bars, is furnished with what was found in rubbish skips, so no two chairs are the same and nothing matches. It's loud, busy and full of visitors – and locals – of all ages. We actually met friend's friend here on the Saturday night and she was 78. That said, I'm not sure she enjoyed it and we didn't stay as long as I'd have liked because she wanted to find somewhere quieter (as did friend, tbh), but I did manage to have a long-awaited palinka. Palinka is a fruit-based brandy that tastes like gut-rut moonshine, but as a national drink, it has to be done at least once.

8. Final day. Friend's friend kindly invited us for tea at her apartment and this was a real highlight. It reminded me so much of the apartment I grew up in in NYC, with its parquet floors and white walls and the general proportions and layout. I guess the NY architects took their cues from Europe when they built their pre-war buildings.

That's it really! Except, we noticed an odd thing. License plates with the word 'JEW' on them. Of course, the Hungarian language doesn't include this word and it could be argued they are simply randomly generated letters and numbers, but as friend's friend said, it's still a word that would be recognized there. I include them for interest and because it was slightly – just slightly – unsettling to see.