Bauhaus and beach: a perfect Tel Aviv Saturday

It's just past 2pm and I'm sitting in a small café near Rothschild Boulevard, sipping what might be the best cappuccino I've had since leaving Italy. The morning has been productive and pleasantly exhausting in that way that only comes from walking for hours through a new city with no particular agenda.

I woke up early (as usual) and was out the door by 7:30, thinking I'd beat the crowds to the Bauhaus Center. What I didn't account for was that many places in Tel Aviv observe Shabbat, and the center doesn't open until 10:00 on Saturdays. Finding myself with unexpected free time, I walked down to the beach promenade instead.

The Mediterranean was calm this morning, with gentle waves lapping against the shore. A few dedicated joggers and elderly swimmers were already out, but the beach was otherwise peaceful. I found a bench and watched the horizon for almost half an hour, mentally comparing this coastline to the rugged Norwegian shores I'm familiar with. There's something more gentle about this sea – it doesn't have that wild, untamed quality of the North Sea.

At 9:50, I made my way back to the Bauhaus Center, arriving just as the staff was unlocking the doors. The center itself is small but informative, with excellent exhibits explaining the architectural movement that shaped much of Tel Aviv. I learned that the city has the highest concentration of Bauhaus buildings in the world – over 4,000 structures built in the 1930s and 40s by German Jewish architects who fled Nazi Germany. These buildings earned Tel Aviv's White City district its UNESCO World Heritage status.

Armed with a self-guided tour map from the center, I spent the next three hours exploring the streets of the White City. The buildings are characterized by their clean lines, rounded balconies, and raised pillars that allow air to circulate underneath – practical adaptations of European modernism to the Mediterranean climate. Many have been beautifully restored, their white façades gleaming in the January sunshine, while others show their age with peeling paint and weathered exteriors.

What struck me most was how functional these buildings remain. Unlike many architectural landmarks that become museums or monuments, these structures are still very much lived in – laundry hanging from balconies, potted plants decorating entrances, and the occasional resident coming or going. It's architecture that has stood the test of time not just aesthetically but practically.

After the architectural tour, I wandered through Carmel Market, which was bustling despite it being Shabbat. The smells of fresh bread, spices, and grilled meat filled the air as I navigated the narrow passages between stalls. I bought a small container of dates and some pistachios to snack on while walking.

Now, as I finish my coffee, I'm contemplating how to spend the rest of the day. The weather forecast shows clear skies and a pleasant 19°C – perfect for more exploring. I'm thinking of heading back to the beach for sunset, which should be around 5:00 pm according to my phone. There's also a language exchange event happening at Abraham Tel Aviv tonight that caught my eye – might be a good way to meet some locals and fellow travelers.

I've been in Tel Aviv for just two days, but I'm already appreciating the contrast with Jerusalem. Where Jerusalem felt ancient and layered with history and tension, Tel Aviv feels youthful and forward-looking. The city has a relaxed energy that reminds me of coastal cities around the world – people seem to move at a different pace here.

As I approach the midpoint of my 500-day journey (day 151 today!), I find myself reflecting on the different rhythms of the places I've visited. Each city has its own pulse, its own way of moving through time. Learning to tune into these different frequencies has been one of the unexpected joys of this trip.

I think I'll head back toward the promenade now. The late afternoon light should be perfect for photography, and I want to capture some of the architectural details I noticed this morning. Then perhaps I'll find a spot to watch the sunset before deciding whether to be social at the language exchange or retreat early with a book.

Until next time, Ruben