From my last two posts, you know that our old friend Deborah was visiting us in Israel. This actually took place in late October, but it took me a while to get around to recording our sightseeing forays to the North and then to Jerusalem. But sightseeing was not really Deb’s primary purpose for coming to see us in Tel Aviv. She wanted to see how we lived, what our daily lives were like…and okay…where I shopped. So here we go.
She and I have had a long history of looking for the exquisite and the unusual in small boutiques, and also for bargains wherever they may be. I will never forget the mingled look of joy and awe on her face when she first beheld DSW, a store the the size of a football field, full of discount designer shoes as far as the eye could see, in downtown New York. (That was fun.) This time, such a thing was not even on our radar screen. In Israel, especially in Tel Aviv, the small (even tiny) store reigns supreme. It often puzzles me how so many of them manage to stay in business.
When in the grip of shopping “fever” as her sister Jill puts it, no words can adequately capture the energy, dedication and patience with which Deb would search for the perfect item, and her delight when she found it; be it for her, for someone she loved, or for her shopping partner, (a role I have played many times). I have seen this in action for over 50 years in Toronto, Paris, New York, Florida, Collingwood, and even at St. Annes spa. (Some people can shop anywhere.) By way of illustration, this photo, taken by my daughter some years ago in Paris after one of our marathon outings, tells you all you need to know.
Now there is no comparing Israel to Paris or New York when it comes to shopping. And that’s okay…how many designer bags does one person need? In Israel, the best shopping is all about the unique, the meaningful, and the historic. You can spend a lot of money, like some of our friends who have gone home with remarkable old maps, antique pottery, and fine art, among other things. On the other hand, some antiquities are so common that they find their way into lovely and affordable pieces of jewellery, such as the luminous fragments of old Roman glass that are made into pendants, earrings and bracelets. We bought three of them. Two went home with Deb: one for her and one for her sister. (One stayed with me.) Similarly, ancient coins are often turned into cufflinks and rings. She bought one of these rings in Jerusalem for her husband John. So it is possible to take home a little piece of history and not break the bank.
Roman glass necklace 
The ring
And while Tel Aviv is no Paris, you might be surprised by how much French you hear in the streets. The oldest neighbourhood in Tel Aviv (apart from Jaffa of course), is called Neve Tzedek and it is home to many French Israelis. Characterized by low rise buildings with red tile roofs, lots of greenery and flowers, and cobbled roads, it is quaint, charming and completely unique by Tel Aviv standards. To me it often feels like a sophisticated French village (complete with roosters). In Neve Tzedek, all the real estate agencies have ads in their windows in French (with Parisian level prices), and there is even an “Epicerie” on the main street. Add a French Lycee, several cafes, and an avant-garde dance centre (Dallal) et voila!… I rest my case. The little shops on the main drag are classy, exquisitely laid out, and priced accordingly. Who needs Paris.
Unlike any other part of Tel Aviv 
And across the street. City meets country! 
Note the French flag on the left
For those who love Jewellery, Neve Tzedek is a mini-mecca, but my favourite shop, and the one I take all my friends to visit, is called Ayala Bar, after the Israeli designer who creates distinctive pieces that incorporate beads, glass, fabric and other wondrous things. Some of her pieces can be over the top; we chose the more delicate ones.
We shopped the summer-end sales on Dizengoff and Sheinkin for clothes, in the high-end Basel neighbourhood for baby gifts, on Geula St. for vintage clothing, in the Rubin Museum for coasters and cards, in Haifa for Roman glass, and on King George for odds and ends. (Not to mention our swing through the brand new (air-conditioned!) Tel Aviv Fashion Mall…meh.)
We also dropped into the bi-weekly craft market on Nahalat Binyamin, a pedestrian area usually noted for its concentration of fabric and sewing stores. Vendors come here on Tuesdays and Fridays from all around Israel. Most of them are artisans that make their own unique and creative items, among which are children’s toys, pottery, hand dyed scarves, jewellery made of recycled materials, Judaica, and my personal favourite…handbags made of recycled parachute material; strong, lightweight and beautifully dyed and cut. (I had to buy several.) Deb found some pomegranate shaped pottery, a little pop of colour to enliven her light decor at home, and yet a few more last minute gifts.
The market on a quiet day 
Nahalat Binyamin : not just a craft market
On her last evening in Israel she celebrated her travels, her friends and her purchases with another of her passions…the perfect martini…
Throughout our shopping adventures, Deb kept a close eye on her budget and the pathetic shekel/dollar exchange rate; not so much because she was worried about money, but because she was just a tiny bit paranoid about going through customs in Canada. So she kept all her receipts for obvious things like jewellery, wore her new clothes, and tucked the wrapped baby gift into an obscure part of her suitcase. She worked on keeping a low and innocent profile on her way through immigration.
Her “inner shopper” must have shone through however, and she was nabbed by a particularly hostile customs agent at the baggage exit in Toronto. When she triumphantly produced her (selected) receipts, in shekels of course, the woman almost had apoplexy…WHY did they have to to be in shekels she wanted to know. (Duh.) After a thorough search, which the agent finally gave up in exasperation, Deb was reluctantly released from custody, but not from steely-eyed suspicion, and made her way home. The agent never did find and unwrap the baby gift, a small consolation.
Throughout our marvellous eight days of walking, talking, and collecting beautiful items and experiences throughout Israel, neither one of us had any idea that Deb’s stoic three year co-existence with metastatic breast cancer was about to come to a crashing end…but so it was. Shortly after she got home, she took a turn for the worse and all the efforts of her doctors to re-stabilize her condition came to naught. It all went so quickly…she passed away just two weeks ago today.
My dear friend was brave, and funny and kind. I will miss her terribly.