I know, I know, England’s having a heatwave, hotter that 1936, sunnier than Bahrain, warmer than the toaster, eggs frying on car bonnets in Esher, blah, blah, blah. So it seems a bit ironic to book a last-minute break ‘to the sun’ whilst it seems to be more of a busman’s holiday leaving the sun to sit in the sun. Who knew it was going to be gorgeous in London? And really, going ‘away’ is not just about sun. Its so much more. Its about distancing yourself mentally. Its about the complete relaxation that you simply can’t get at home. And its about enjoying a different world, a different culture. And, as is generally the case, ‘culture’ means ‘food’.

They say that civlisation arrived when the human question changed from ‘what will we eat?’ to ‘where shall we eat?’. No-one kills goats any more to feed the family for a week, nor goes out picking leaves in the forests, when Tescos have them on 2-for-1. Ok, in parts of Africa and Asia and even South America there is poverty and starvation, which is a bad thing, and in many other places there is McDonalds, which is arguably worse. The old ‘starvation vs clogged arteries’ debate. But in the west, and even here in the Middle East, food is a defining feature of life. Certainly of my life.

So I’ve come here really, as I do most years, to spend my time eating ‘things in pitta, doused in chilli sauce’. And I’m not too fussed what those ‘things’ might be. Meat works. Tuna salad. Fellafal. Fruit salad. Fruit salad? With chilli?? In pitta??? Well, it just seemed a bit more breakfasty than more meat. Maybe put some yoghurt on it too.

But that’s only part of the story. Last night we did sushi, tonight its tapas. Multi-culturalism means different flavour restaurants. But before that we have our ritual. Well, this is Israel, and today is the sabbath day, so we need something spiritual. And that’s where the iced coffee comes in. A ‘special’ ritual for 5pm every day. When we sojourn down the beach, following the path of our forefathers, when they escaped from Egypt, even though we now use the boarwalk which only went up 5 years ago. And we trudge in the sand until we find an oasis (called Bell Bar) and there The Lord has provided sustinance for us. Or iced coffee as manna is now known. Because they do it here differently. They do it better than Starbucks, better than Costa, better than anywhere. Probably because they skimp on neither fats nor sugars, but they don’t have to. Holidays are calorie free. (I fucking hope they are or I’m in big trouble). And we sit in the lowering sunshine, watch the amblers ambling, the surfers surfing and the sand… er… lying there. And we suck wonderfully-flavoured ice through a straw. A slow business. But what the rush. We’re on holiday.

Ahhhhhh. Though may have to delay the ritual a bit for the cup final today. Or get them to put a screen up on the beach. Now that’s an idea.

Come on Hull,

Shabbat shalom, as they say in Knightsbridge,

A xxxx