The Old City

I love the old city [Akko]. I love the bazaar, I love the sea, I love the streets teeming with children running along by themselves (as Aaron pointed out yesterday, "I love that in this country they just let their one and a half year olds run around all by themselves."), I love that you can eat hummus and garbanzo beans in the middle of the street- and by that I mean the table from your restaurant can actually be in the middle of a street that cars drive through- nothing like the sweet smell of exhaust to really get your mouth watering...I love the fact that when I'm in Akko, I actually feel like I'm in Israel. Everything feels ancient and different, brimming with history and culture. You feel like this place has really been lived in.

It also feels like you're in the middle of a story where the author decided to od on anachronisms. As you stare out stone streets and walls that have probably been in place for a thousand years, the sound of Celine Dione crooning that awful Meatloaf song blasts out some falafel stand's stereo. Or you walk past a puma/nike outlet across the street from the actual bazaar. It's really strange, how all of your senses are assaulted by the clashing and comingling of the new millenium and the centuries gone by. But I love it. I wouldn't have this old city any other way. [Except maybe the smell of fish.]