Luxe living at The Jaffa in Tel Aviv
The head of guest relations is talking. A lot. We have finished our complimentary glasses of bubbly and are shuffling around in our seats wondering when we can either skip off for lunch, or at least take our bags up to our room.
I’m regretting getting here so far ahead of check-in. I attempt to say we’ll come back later, but it doesn’t work. The receptionist has been back to drop off our passports, she’s even booked us a car to take us to the airport in two days’ time. My husband is giving me ‘the look’. It means, can you politely tell him to shut up, or I’ll tell him unpolitely. But he’s still talking.
Finally, someone catches his eye behind me and we’re swept up and onwards to our room. He is still talking. He talks about the lift, about the honeycomb mesh that covers the windows in the corridor, about the scent in the corridors (actually, my fault on that one, it’s so good I quiz him on what the fragrance is), and then finally he opens the door to our room and stops.
It is filled with balloons. This poor man has been keeping me occupied because I arrived so early they hadn’t had a chance to decorate, and – it being my 40th – that had clearly been part of the plan. It’s not just balloons. There’s cake, flowers, champagne, a fruit basket. Any concern I had about the milestone birthday (there weren’t really any, but it seemed the done thing to at least suggest I was upset about the big 4-0) are blown up in this jewellery box of a hotel room stuffed full of birthday treats.
Freddie – we’re on first-name terms now – is talked out, but leaves his mobile number in case there’s anything else we need (I have cake, champagne and balloons. I literally can’t think of a single other thing I could possibly want) then retreats, and we happily sit on the balcony watching Tel Aviv go by.
Well, not for long. That’s the thing with Tel Aviv. Even when you’re being spoilt rotten in a gorgeous place like The Jaffa, there’s so much to see, do and eat (mainly eat, in our case), you don’t want to waste a second.
Situated in the oldest part of the city, The Jaffa is only minutes away from the flea market area with its café culture, antique interiors stores and rows of boutiques selling everything from ice cream and jewellery through to art and records.
You’re also just steps from the port, which is another excellent destination in its own right for restaurants and bars, and the pristine beach with its outdoor gyms, shaded family areas and, no big surprise, more restaurants.
When we did drag ourselves away from the eateries within strolling distance, The Jaffa’s swimming pool was a welcome relief from the hot weather and the food on site is none-too-shabby. If you read any review of Tel Aviv, it’ll tell you to try hummus from Abu Hassan. The Jaffa do the hard work on that front by having it on all their menus, which helps tick off two foodie must-dos in one go.
That was doubly the case during our visit, which we’d totally mis-timed to fall during Yom Kippur. Although I’m not Jewish, I’d done my reading and been teed up that the city would be quiet, but had most definitely underestimated just how quiet. Nothing open. No lights. No cars.
The Wanderlist:
The Old Man & The Sea. Situated down in the port, the mezze here is off-the-scale amazing. Don’t bother ordering anything else; you won’t have room to eat it.
Puaa. We missed brunch here, but in-the-know friends recommend it highly. You might have to queue for a while, but apparently it is well worth the wait.
Beit Kandinof: We ate our final meal of the trip under the hanging lights in this gallery-cum-restaurant. Everything was amazing, but the chocolate dessert deserves a special mention.
The Vera: If you fancy mixing luxe living with local living during a Tel Aviv break, try a couple of nights at this small boutique hotel near the cool Neve Tsedek district.
