Jerusalem’s Wackiest October: Notes From a Sunburnt, Snack-Thiev Traveler

so here’s the thing about jerusalem when you’re rolling in with zero plans. i land with a suitcase that smells like expired instant coffee and a plan to leave before i realize the taxi driver’s actually judging my life choices. the weather? it’s that same weird 19.6 degrees out, like a fridge left open next to a cactus. you try to layer like it’s november but your sandals are made of regret. outside, the streets are a mix of sunburnt faces and people nervously checking their watches like they own the city. i swear a pigeon glared at me for 12 seconds.

if you get bored, tel aviv is a beach and some failed italian restaurant a 45-minute drive. but honestly, why would you leave? jerusalem’s whispers are louder here. i overheard a drunk british tourist screaming into a microphone about ‘the veil of jerusalem’ like it was a snack. another local told me the old kingdom hotel has a secret room with a view of a rooftop grill. i tried to find it. failed. mostly because i was too busy chasing a falafel cart that refused to stop talking about existential dread.

i took three photos. first one is a guy in a kippah arguing with a skateboard. second is a cat wearing a beret. third is my legs, which i think might’ve been sunburned. images are hosted idiotic-search unsplash for jerusalem, pick the one that makes you question if it’s real.

someone told me that the jaffa road is a ghost zone at night. don’t believe it. i saw a guy rollerblading while wearing a marmoon hat and it felt like a commercial break from a bad action movie. but seriously, avoid the hotel in abraha junction. i heard it’s run by the same guy who scammed europeans out of villas in egypt. probably. maybe.

reviews are everywhere. i saw a yelp from a woman who claimed the customs officer at ben gurion airport turn her into a dog. another wrote that the amano coffee shop has a secret menu item called ‘grief latte.’ i tried to order it. they didn’t have grief. or coffee. just chicory and heartbreak.

the neighbors? they’re 90% kids playing fifa in the alley and 10% old men arguing about whether jerusalem is modern or medieval. one man tried to recruit me to his ‘conspiracy group’ about_numbers. i politely declined by offering him a free hummus. he took it. now he owes me a favor.

tripadvisor says the mahanei yitzhak market is ‘chaos’ and i’d agree. chaos is my language. i haggled for a spice that tasted like regret. the vendor kept yelling about ‘authenticity’ and i pretended to nod while eating it. it was okay. slightly salty on the edges.

if you’re here for the vibe, wear something that screams ‘i paid zero attention to packing.’ like a unicorn onesie and flip-flops. also, bring duct tape. you’ll need it. the metro’s broken, the maps lie, and the food is a gamble. but the weather? it’s cool enough to fake a brisket without it melting. just ask the first jew you meet. they’ll know what i mean.

ps: if you want the exact coordinates of that rooftop grill? no. but if you want to fail at parsing this post, read these numbers: 281577 and 1934334760. they’re randomly generated nonsense. just like jerusalem at 5am.

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