Hotels empty, beaches quiet, travelers wary

Israel beckons but tourists stay away

Tourists are scarce in the streets of Jerusalem

In this story: Same old place? No waiting to eat Bloody memories Tourist drought Sites closed, nearly deserted Many questions, few passengers RELATED STORIES, SITES

By Randall H. Harber
CNN

TEL AVIV, Israel (CNN) -- If you are a tourist, Israel is wide open these days and ready to welcome you. That's the official line.

Here's another take: Not many people are traveling to Israel because they're concerned over the continuing violence known here as the Al Aqsa Intifada.

Despite those concerns, Israel is trying to put the best face on a tense situation festering between Israelis and Palestinians. "No one belongs here more than you," the Israel Ministry of Tourism proclaims on its Web site. Last year, 3 million tourists - about 500,000 of them from the United States -- bought that message and came here.

ALSO Eating well in land of milk and honey     RELATED STORIES Staying safe while exploring the world When a vacation spot turns violent: What's a traveler to do?     QUICKVOTE Would you travel to Israel right now? No -- I wouldn't feel safe Yes -- The odds of something bad happening are very small View Results

"The government of Israel takes enormous precautions to protect both its citizens and its visitors," the tourism ministry's Web site continues. "If we ever thought travelers were in danger, we would ask you not to come, or to delay your visit."

Yet those words hardly seem so reassuring, especially since the Intifada began in September. The U.S. State Department has issued two warnings about travel to Israel, and last Christmas, one of the nation's biggest tourism seasons, dozens of tours to Israel were canceled.

What's it like to go to Israel in these troubled times? Recently, I made my second visit to Israel, and recorded some impressions.

Same old place?

At first blush, nothing much seems to have changed. At Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv, I arrange for a taxi to take me to Jerusalem, hardly more than an hour's drive to the south. "How much is the fare?" I ask. It's 180 shekels -- about $45, the same as two years ago.

Along the expressway, the normally arid terrain is lush from the winter rains. Acres and acres of dormant vineyards, a testament to Israel's growing wine industry, extend from the Golan Heights in the north to the Negev Desert in the south.

As we begin the climb to Jerusalem, the pink blossoms of almond trees mark the sides of the road, interrupting the soft green of the grass and the stark white of the limestone.

Then we are in Jerusalem, passing the central bus station on the Jaffa Road where people of all shapes and sizes, speaking a half-dozen different languages, queue up to catch rides. The typical heavy military presence, I note, remains in place. Israeli soldiers, men and women, pace sidewalks, their semi-automatic rifles thrown over their shoulders.

A bank of black clouds rolls up over the Jerusalem hills. The evening sun cuts through them with shafts of yellow light. The cloud bank seems to hang over the building of the Knesset, or parliament, and then droplets begin falling, splashing the city with rain. The crowds, always in a rush, hurry even more to escape the downpour.

This part of Israel, at least, seems the same.

No waiting to eat

We get an inkling of change the next day, when we return to Tel Aviv, a city of towers and apartment homes shoved against the Mediterranean Sea. Winds whip the aquamarine waves into whitecaps and blow sand across the beaches and sidewalks. Then, more rain falls, drenching the usually sun-bleached houses, the modern hotels and the skyscrapers.

The beach at Tel Aviv

My colleagues and I stay at the Carlton Hotel (910 Eliezer Peri St., telephone 972-3-5201818) perched on the water's edge. It is here that the current state of affairs begins to show itself. We stayed in the same hotel two years ago and it was bustling. This time, few people are in the lobby.

When a friend and I go down to the hotel restaurant for dinner, the captain tells us to take our choice of tables. There are plenty.

If the mood of Jerusalem is frenetic, Tel Aviv is just the opposite. There is plenty of energy here in this city, but the mood is laid back. Even away from the shore, it is obvious Tel Aviv is a beach town.

Paint peels off sun-baked Bauhaus-style apartment buildings. Banana trees wave in the breeze. Wide, tree-lined boulevards bisect the city. There is a languid air about the place just as you'd expect to find in Miami.

I walk one afternoon down Dizengoff Street, one of Tel Aviv's busiest and most chic thoroughfares. Couples stroll arm and arm beneath the spreading canopy of oak trees, stopping for espresso at one of the countless sidewalk cafes.

Bloody memories

Dizengoff Center is a circular district, surrounding by tall buildings. Neon signs festoon a busy shopping mall. I remember seeing pictures of this place. In 1994, a suicide bomber set off a blast on a bus near here, killing 22 people. Two years later, another suicide bomber blew himself up in a sidewalk cafe not far from the site of the 1994 attack, killing 13 people. I'm reminded that there are few places in Israel that are not somehow stained with blood.

The rains diminish, and succeeding days dawn bright and beautiful. With the weather turning warm, the natives return to the beach.

Tel Aviv is built on a series of sandstone hills that form a bluff near the strand on the northern end of the city and then flatten toward Jaffa, the old port city to the south. In the shelter of the bluff, away from the breeze, an elderly couple sits on a bench. They are speaking Russian, which is hardly a surprise: More than 1 million Russian emigres now call Israel home.

Farther down the beach, families wade in the shallows. A woman pushes a stroller holding twins. No one seems concerned for his or her safety. They are just enjoying a warm winter day at the beach.

Tourist drought

That night, after I check into the Dan Pearl Hotel (Zahal Square, telephone 972-2- 6226666) in Jerusalem, the tourist drought is evident as I go to the restaurant for dinner. There is one couple with two small children eating at one table. I am the only other customer.

Tel Aviv at sunset

I want to stop by the hotel lounge for an after-dinner drink before turning in, but it is closed. There just aren't enough customers tonight, the young lady at the desk says. Perhaps tomorrow.

Room service, she offers, will be glad to bring me anything I'd like, but that doesn't satisfy me. I know the Jerusalem Hilton and the King David Hotel are nearby, so I'll walk to the one of those two hotels, I tell the clerk. Will I be safe? "Oh, sure," she says without a moment's hesitation. "You'll be fine. This is not an American city; people don't carry guns."

The air is damp but warm as I set out, and I find myself at the Jerusalem Hilton. It is a relatively new hotel with a restaurant and lounge beneath a glass canopy. The moon is up -- a perfect setting, I think, for a drink under the stars.

Yet few are on hand to enjoy the evening with me. The Hilton's dining room is hardly full. Two or three families are eating, as are several couples and two or three travelers like me who are alone.

A group, the first people I have seen who are obviously American, comes in for drinks. I hear them say they are from Memphis, Tennessee, here on a church tour.

Sites closed, nearly deserted

The Israeli government says the only area that is closed to tourists within Israel is the Temple Mount and the Al Aqsa Mosque that sits atop it in Jerusalem. The Western Wall, considered the holiest place in Judaism, remains open.

But other places are virtually closed -- practically abandoned by a public leery of getting in harm's way.

For example: Can you go to the West Bank? No ... and yes.

Israeli tour companies don't go there now. However, if you choose a Palestinian company, it will take you to places like Bethlehem, just southeast of Jerusalem in the West Bank.

A trip to Gaza is another story. One of my colleagues visits for a day, where he is the only guest in his hotel. Likewise, the hotel restaurant is empty and there are no tourists, despite the region's beautiful beaches.

On our final day in Israel, a colleague and I are up early for the trip to the airport. As we ride in our taxi along Eliezer Peri Street in Tel Aviv, the coffee shops overlooking the beach are full of people. Half of them are going to work, the cab driver surmises; the other half has been up all night.

Our cabby slows as we approach the first checkpoint at the airport's entrance. Ahead are four guards; the smallest appears to weigh no less than 250 pounds. Each carries an Uzi machine gun. "Now this is security," says my companion.

Many questions, few passengers

After going through passport control we encounter an experience that is uniquely Israeli: You can get into Israel by answering two or three questions, but leaving is a different consideration. A thin young woman who appears to be no more than 18 questions me: Why was I in Israel? Where did I go? Where did I stay? Why did I go to Jerusalem? Why did I come back to Tel Aviv? Did anyone give me anything?

The old City Hall in Jerusalem

"Yes," I say. "I was given a bottle of Israeli olive oil. Would you like to see it?"

"Just a moment," she says, and off she goes to check with a supervisor. She returns and asks to see the bottle. Satisfied, she allows me to close my bag.

"We are asking so many questions because we want to make sure no one carries a bomb aboard the plane," she says. "We thank you for your cooperation and your patience." I thank her for her diligence.

At the ticket counter, my companion says, "You know, they asked me the strangest question: Did anyone give me a bottle of olive oil?" I explain and we laugh.

On board, the plane is but half full. Is the plane always this empty? I ask a flight attendant.

"It has been for weeks," she says. "When the tourists don't come, the planes are empty."

Mideast violence mars festive spirit in birthplace of Jesus
December 4, 2000
Americans advised not to visit Israel or West Bank
October 25, 2000

Israel Ministry of Tourism

Note: Pages will open in a new browser window

External sites are not endorsed by CNN Interactive.