Don't Travel to Israel on a Friday

I don't know much about the Jewish religion or its traditions. When I bought tickets to Israel, I was guided solely by the airline promotions, which had the cheapest travel day on a Friday.

If everything went well, I would arrive in Tel Aviv around 1 PM, catch some transport, and reach my Airbnb in Jerusalem by the afternoon.

That was not the case. Moving around Israel on a Friday is a disaster, regardless of what online forums say.

A few days before traveling, I started checking some mobility options in case I needed to book them. Some websites mentioned that during Shabbat the frequency of transportation might be a bit complicated, but services would still be available. I was confident that, in the worst-case scenario, I could take a taxi and solve this problem.

For those who, like me, don't know what Shabbat is, it's the Jewish weekly day of rest, starting after sunset on Friday and ending at nightfall on Saturday. It is a time for rest, spending time with family, and reflection, avoiding work and daily activities. On this day EVERYTHING is closed, and even public transport doesn't operate.

My flight was delayed from Istanbul, and after various delays, I arrived at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv at 5 PM. After passing through immigration, retrieving my luggage, and attempting to buy a SIM card at the airport without being scammed, I went to look for a bus to Jerusalem.

At the bus stop, we were several naive tourists waiting. There was a sign with schedules indicating that there should be a service soon, but after an hour and a half, well into sunset, none came.

Some, a bit anxious, immediately went to take the airport taxis. In the area where you can wait for one, there are several shady characters trying to sell you a ride in some "unofficial" taxi, taking advantage of tourists and charging up to $500 USD for a ride to Jerusalem during Shabbat.

I waited another fifteen minutes to see if the bus would finally arrive and gave up when I saw night falling.

I opened the Uber app; the prices were outrageous. I tried to get a driver, but they confirmed my ride and then cancelled it. I even managed to communicate with one over the phone, who, despite his poor English, made it clear that he didn't want to take a long trip because he had to return home soon for his religious rituals.

Starting to despair, I began talking to an Asian girl and two Frenchmen who were in the same situation as me. We agreed to share a taxi to Jerusalem, and after heading to the official stand, we managed to negotiate a price for the whole trip at $250, to be divided among four.

The journey isn't very picturesque; at night, there's little to appreciate: some desert, a few lights from small towns, and some mountains.

Upon reaching Jerusalem around 10 PM, the taxi driver asked where we were getting off, and each of us gave our address. He decided to take the other tourists to their hotels first and then drop me off about 200 meters from my apartment.

His English was poor, he smelled bad, smoked throughout the trip, and had little patience to help us. Upon reaching my stop, I insisted he drop me closer to the apartment, but from what I understood, it was in a kibbutz, and cars couldn't enter.

Looking at Google Maps, I could see two notable things about the location of my Airbnb. One was that it was close to the Mahaneh Yehudah market, a place with excellent reviews, and the other was that there was a bomb shelter on the corner. I suppose that's good?

As I got out of the taxi and retrieved my luggage, I was about to pay my share ($63), and the taxi driver asked for $150. I said no, the agreed total was $250, and the rest had already paid their part. But he insisted, shouting, waving his arms, and starting to make a scene worthy of a drama queen, saying he didn't expect to have to take us all to different places, that it was Shabbat, and he wanted to be with his family… after a heated argument, we settled on $110.

Uff, what a bad welcome Israel gave me on my first day.

From there, I started walking towards my apartment, and saw that Google Maps indicated I should enter a rather dark alley, from which I saw a few men dressed as Orthodox Jews coming and going, something I had rarely seen in my life.

Fearful, speaking on the phone with the host, I managed to reach the apartment door. It was a small door in a dark and deserted area on that Friday night.

When I entered, I took a few minutes to recover, organised some things, and with a lot of hunger, decided to go out and find something for dinner.

It was already 11:35 PM when I was walking through my kibbutz, managed to navigate the dark alleys and the trash, and reached a more central street, where the map showed a supermarket and several restaurants.

I walked in the direction of the Mahaneh Yehudah market, and everything was closed.

I arrived at the market, a place that on Friday nights looks like a scene from a horror movie with shutters down, few lights, and one or two businesses with loud music and people drinking something cool.

I found Jahnun Bar, a market stall I had noted from a video posted by Kara and Nate Planet, who recommended the best places to eat in Jerusalem.

I ate a glorious pita with falafel, drank a cold beer, and slowly started to calm down, repeating to myself over and over again, “don't come to Israel on a Friday!”

Who would have thought that three weeks later, I would go through an extreme adventure again trying to find a friend who was also arriving on a Friday at the airport, this time attempting to go in the opposite direction, from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. But that story will continue in another post.

See you soon!

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