What an experience is to visit the Holy Land. Quite apart from the most serious manifestations of the Jerusalem syndrome, it is sort of unavoidable to find oneself caught in the mystic atmosphere of the Old city and to feel the intense spirituality of the place - well, if one manages to abstract from the hords of tourists snapping pics and of pilgrims rubbing all sort of clothes on every holy stones around.
And this even after a few visits, when you think you know enough to play the tour guide for your friends.
Not much partying, but the gastronomic side of the Holy Land was, once again, no less mystic.
Despite a well deserved special mention for the superb crabs from Chakra, the discovery of this trip was much more low profile: the Yemenite Malawach.
Almost the only food available to us on Shabbath, a fried pancake filled with hummus, tahini, tomatoes, peppers, aubergines, onions, spicy mix and zaatar (but you could further use your creativity), roll up and eat.
Tel Aviv knows almost no Shabbath (except for hotel staff waking us up because checkout time on Friday is at 9 am) but knows all kind of gastronomic pleasures. Our pick: Nanuchka, good Georgian food and over-excited customers singing, dancing and screaming all night long.
Over to Nazareth, the palm goes to Al Reda, in an old Ottoman mansion, facing St.Joseph's Church. Excellent muhammar, very helpful host, great views from the rooftop terrace, and a romantic loft for future needs. Note taken.
And the "L" part of this story? Well, some Listening will do.
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