A day spent by the Mediterranean sea

In any other country this would be the title of an essay about sand and sun and sea and simplicity. Here in Israel it’s a Persian carpet of threads woven together like the one I stepped onto in my cousin Ricky’s apartment as the sun set on that day.

The beach in front of the Daniel Hotel Herzliya is my favourite in the world. I spent two years of my early 20s living two minutes’ walk from its powdery white sand, and clear, bath-warm water, which bring me a comfort I can’t explain.

I’ve been in Israel for the past five weeks, getting married, seeing family, touring the country, and waiting to vote. I’ve wanted to write, but couldn’t work out which of all the myriad experiences and conversations to recount. But yesterday’s beach visit provided a synthesis and a focus for this piece.

I took a taxi there from my sister’s house in Ra’anana. The driver was an Arab man from Kfar Qasim named Amar Amer. We talked, and I asked him who he was voting for: Ra’am (the United Arab List led by Mansour Abbas). What motivated him most? The insane amount of Arab-on-Arab crime in towns like his. We talked about how good it was that Jewish Israeli ex-police chief Yoav Segalovitz had joined the party, and how neither of us could understand why Abbas wouldn’t declare Hamas a terrorist organisation and enable them to join a coalition government as they had the Bennett-Lapid one that preceded this current Netanyahu term.

On the 15-minute drive we passed more than a dozen new buildings and neighbourhoods under construction. Despite the talk of brain drain and impending sanctions, the economy seems to be thriving, and the shekel is strong. Much stronger than it was when I visited last year – every time I buy something or see another crane I think about the dissonance between the BDS talk and the reality on this ground.