Akko and a Kibbutz

I'd been desperate to visit the Arab Old City and Port of Akko ever since I read about its twisting alleyways, bustling souq and unspoilt charm in a travel magazine a few months ago. My excitement about the visit was only heightened by my guidebook warning travelers not to make Akko their first stop in Israel as everywhere else will feel like a disappointment afterwards.

Thankfully, my expectations were not too high. Akko really is as beautiful as suggested and, amazingly, remarkably unspoilt by tourism. This may well change soon as the first decent hotel has just opened there (hence the magazine article). I could have had a perfectly excellent day simply wandering the streets, eating the (supposedly) best hummus in Israel as well as all kinds of sweet goodies in the market, and sitting on the port, legs dangling just above the Mediterranean, reading my book. But the day was even better than that as a result of the various museums in the city (Akko hasn't escaped tourism completely). First there was the subterranean Crusader's City to explore, then a delightfully interactive tour of the Turkish Bathhouse, followed by a surprisingly impressive Templar crusader tunnel (which I ended up walking back and forth along three times, despite having almost not gone on due to dislike of enclosed underground spaces). But the best attraction, simply for its unassuming charm, was the tiny 'Ethnographic Museum', built into the Old City Wall and containing, on one side, reconstructions of various traditional workshops from the Galilee region of Israel and, on the other, a donated collection which included some absolutely magnificent furniture. Too bad that my camera battery had run out of juice halfway through the day.

Then the day took a surprising turn. I received a call from Noach (he runs the Israeli Guide Dog Center for the Blind which I visited last week and have been meaning to write about since - I'll do so some other time). On hearing that I was in Akko, he put me in touch with a friend of his, a real kibbutznik, who lives and works nearby. So, once my legs had given in from all the walking around Akko, I went to meet her. Orit has been living on the same kibbutz since she was nine (she is now in her late 30s) and is one of the managers of their cowshed, a huge milking station where they have around 1000 cattle. I met her at the shed and saw the cows being milked. The processes is as far away from pretty Swiss girls with braids in their hair, sitting on stools, as it could be. Orit and I are in agreement that if you have any sensitivity to the treatment of animals, it's much more fitting not to partake in dairy products than it is not to eat beef.

After she had finished up work, we went for a long walk around her kibbutz grounds (the cowshed is at Moshav Regba and is the joint enterprise of three local kibbutzim; Orit lives at and is a member of the nearby Kibbutz Kabri). The kibbutz itself was not particularly beautiful, but the views were, especially as the sun was setting. We talked a great deal about what it's like to live and work on a kibbutz, as well as the ideology behind kibbutzim and how it's shifting. We had s delicious dinner in an ugly town (shwarma in Nahariya), before I caught the train back to Haifa.

All in all, an excellent day.