I am caught off guard when I see him. He looks terrible. I do my best to hide my shock, pulling up a chair, forcing a smile and taking his hand. My father recognises me immediately and seems astonished that I’m standing next to him. He can’t speak properly - he’s slurring his words - nor can he sit up. He is utterly helpless and fights to get his words out…
“Dad, I came to see you.” I squeeze his hand tightly and he responds in kind. Then he whispers, almost inaudibly, “Get me out of here…”
It had been a great trip back to the country of my birth but, six weeks later, I was ready to fly home to Tel Aviv. On my penultimate evening, longing for some British pub grub I met up with two old friends in a local tavern, where we ordered fish and chips and pints of beer and enjoyed what was a perfect summer English evening. Hugging them goodbye, I said I hoped it wouldn’t be as long before my next visit. What little did I know was in store for me.
The canal continues onto Kings Cross, Camden Town, past the London Zoo and Lisson Wide before culminating at Maida Vale (where that stretch of the canal is fondly referred to as ‘Little Venice."‘ For hundreds of years, workers moved people and goods along this waterway, not without risk either (severe storms could be perilous) and being able to work the boats in all weathers and tides was a job that required skill and knowledge. Many of them lived on these boats…
Bunhill fields burial ground was first used in 1665 and remained open until 1854; in this time period historians estimate that 123,000 people (approximately) were buried here. By the time it was closed, it was actually considered to be a health hazard! The name ‘Bunhill’ is derived from Bone Hill Fields - archaeologists have discovered that the area was used to bury the dead as far back as Saxon times…
Because of industry, and a boom in the furniture and rag trades, Shoreditch (and the areas close by - including Brick Lane and Spitalfields) became popular with Jewish immigrants, Having arrived in England with few resources, or even penniless, they moved in droves to the area, taking on low-paid jobs in cabinet-making, tailoring and labouring at the docks. As a result, they needed a place to pray, which accounts for the construction of the Sandys Row synagogue (still active today).
There are several things that make this place so appealing, in my eyes. Firstly, the sheer variety of flowers (as I said above). It’s a floral feast for the eyes - tulips, sunflowers, geraniums, gerberas and orchids at one stall, exotic purple, pink and white orchids at another, kitchen herbs and then one with endless houseplants…
What have I missed the most? London buses, the familiar red double deckers that I adored as a child, climbing up stairs in the hope of finding a seat at the very front, so I could observe everything from on high. The Docklands Light Railway, which thrilled my nephew as a child, as it was driverless. The markets - Portobello for antiques, Columbia Road for flowers, Brick Lane for vintage and Camden for pure nostalgia…
The phone kept ringing. Everyone knew I lived on Dizengoff. The night wore on. The the police and army’s fear was that the gunman would break into a nearby building, in the hope of taking hostages. Soldiers from an elite unit soon arrived, informing us all from the street below that, under no circumstances, could we leave our homes. All traffic in and out of Tel Aviv had been stopped and my block had been cordoned off…
Kusama has, over the years, suffered from panic attacks, hallucinations and had more than one nervous breakdown. These began when she was not even in double digits - as early as aged 7, Kusama heard dogs, pumpkins and violets talking to her (indeed, pumpkins would become one of her leitmotifs, later in her career) and had auras where all around her, she saw objects glittering…
I am truly astounded by what I find, as I go out on ‘collecting’ missions. Bell peppers that would sell in the stores for 10 NIS a kilo ($43). Potatoes, onions, tomatoes, bananas, carrots, orange and pears…sometimes slightly bruised, sometimes in a box where just one is damaged, sometimes in optimum condition and clearly just ‘leftovers.’ On a recent mission, I picked up 12 boxes of strawberries - most were perfect, a few were squishy but none were rotten…
I thought I was alone in my feelings - the despair, the horror, the disgust, the sheer terror…apparently it is not just me. As far as my eye could see, there were people with placards, flags, instruments…so many young people (who have a reputation in Tel Aviv for being more interested in cocktail bars than politics), just as many older people and families with small kids too.
It’s at this point that you’ll spy Daniel Kafri’s marvellous “Statue of Faith” - on it are carved three historic Biblical scenes - the binging of Isaac, the Fall of Jericho and Jacob’s Ladder. Made from Galilee stone, and with a gate-like structure, it represents the “Gate of Entry” into the Promised Land, bringing to life stories of the three Patriarchs - Abraham, Isaac and Jacob...
The first sunbeams had touched my face whilst, in a group of volunteers, we were cutting up fruits for bears, cassowaries and other endangered species, together with other volunteers. Because of illegal wildlife trade and habitat destruction, there is a steadily increasing number of confiscated and rescued animals which need a temporary home.
On a literary level, I’m sorry but I really can’t see how the comparisons that have been made between Nora and Emma Bovary/Mrs Rochester. The other major problem I have with this book is that it has no plot - and call me old-fashioned, but I really do like a plot. About half way through, I had begun to ask myself where it was going…becoming tired of the endless monologues
We had a rapport that people remarked upon. We could talk to each other about so many things and the fact that he was 30 years older than me was irrelevant. Harvey was erudite and yet modest about it. He was a prolific reader and well-informed about art, music, history, philosophy and science. But he was also emotionally aware, a man who took women very seriously, actually a man who secretly believed women were superior to men…
It’s a great little spot, where you can lounge outside (amazingly, it was one of Munich’s rare sunny days in the month I was there, hence the number of coffee lovers basking in the sun) or take shelter under a chandelier inside. Yes! The decor is quite unique… I have to say that the cup I drank was divine. I ordered a filter coffee made from single origin beans - it was a medium roast, not too bitter, but with a taste that really lingered. Matched with the Florentine, it was a wonderful treat.
Veering away from the idea of a geometrically-designed French baroque creation, they decided to give the park a more ‘English’ feel, with a landscaped quality to it, and that’s how the name came to be, Today, it’s one of the biggest green spaces in the world within an urban setting - it’s actually bigger than Manhattan’s Central Park.
There is something wonderful about the air here. I mean, like any mountain air it’s a pleasure to breathe it in but this is somethign spectacular. I feel completely invigorated. Each gulp is simply wonderful. The water is crystal clear too and in the background loom the Alps. The colours seem so vivid today - it’s a vignette of sheer beauty…
Kampfner (himself the son of a Jewish refugee in the 30’s) makes a compelling case for why German is in the state it is - ‘responsible capitalism’. Unlike the rigid French labour market, or the deregulated British one, Germany has chosen a different path. With its keen sense of social responsibility and incredibly well-funded public services, the accumulation of wealth isn’t seen necessarily as a bad thing, but is firmly kept in check…
