Upper Galilee to Nazareth
We took the drive up north from Ein Gedi, hugging the eastern side of the West Bank, all the way to the artist town of Rosh Pinna in the Upper Galilee. Highway 90, which cuts through the West Bank to Northern Israel, is fully Israeli-controlled and perfectly safe to drive on. Still, it feels a little strange navigating the roads knowing all the heavy history and tension baked into the soil out here. While driving, I’d glance over to the left and see those massive, bright red signs screaming a very clear warning: alerting Israeli citizens that it is strictly forbidden by law for them to enter Area A of the West Bank.
Now, if you had asked me where Rosh Pinna was prior to this round-the-world journey, I would have just shrugged my shoulders and wondered what country you were even talking about. But a fellow traveler in Tel Aviv told me it was a prime spot to cool out, so we pulled the trigger and used it as our base camp to explore the Sea of Galilee and the Golan Heights.
Rosh Pinna:
The old quarter of Rosh Pinna is packed with trendy cafes, top-tier restaurants, art galleries, and zimmers—which is the local Israeli word for a boutique Bed & Breakfast. We checked into a beautiful B&B perched high up in the mountains, giving us sweet, sweeping views of the Golan Heights, Mount Hermon, and the Sea of Galilee right from our balcony.
[The Balcony Panorama]
Looking Left: Lebanon (Hezbollah Territory)
Looking Center: Syria (Golan Heights Border)
Looking Right: Jordan
From our morning coffee spot, you can see the borders of Syria, Jordan, and Lebanon sitting right there in the not-too-far distance. It puts things in perspective. I distinctly remember the last Lebanon war Israel was in, about ten years back, with the fine folks belonging to Hezbollah. Katyusha rockets were raining down from their bases in Southern Lebanon right into this exact valley. Being so physically close to where the heavy fighting took place—and surrounded by hostile bordering countries—gives the air a bit of an eerie edge.
Rosh Pinna itself is so lush, green, and tranquil that you’d never imagine a lick of trouble could touch it. However, I did notice a significantly stronger presence of young Israeli soldiers in full uniform on patrol up north. Case in point: Barbie and I were chowing down on some fast-food shawarma, and a young IDF soldier was eating his lunch at the table right next to us. He had his massive assault rifle wrapped around his neck, and the barrel was pointing directly at Barbie’s back.
Downing a heavily spiced shawarma with a machine gun inches from your spine would rattle most tourists, but it didn’t even appear to faze Flashpacking Barbie. The shawarma was absolutely world-class, so as far as we were concerned, everything was cool.
Akko:
From Rosh Pinna, we took a 45-minute drive toward the Mediterranean coast to hit the ancient city of Akko on a Saturday. Now, Shabbat in Israel is basically the cultural equivalent of “Dark Day” at the racetrack. On Shabbat, just like when the track shuts down on a dark Tuesday, you have to dig real deep to find a good activity to occupy your time, or you will find yourself sitting on your ass with absolutely shit to do because mostly everything is locked up tight. Akko is the ultimate Saturday play because the Arabic Old City here doesn’t close down for Shabbat.
We ended up passing on the historic mosques because I was dressed in casual shorts, but our real mission for the afternoon was to explore the Turkish Bazaar and hunt down some legendary local hummus. It was a classic coin-flip between the two legendary joints that get all the hype: Hummus Said and Hummus Sawila.
[The Akko Hummus Showdown]
Hummus Said ──> Famous, crowded, ancient alleyway vibe.
Hummus Sawila ──> Massive line of hungry locals baking in the sun.
The Winner ──> Sawila. If the locals are willing to battle for it, you get in line.
The second we saw the massive, chaotic line of hungry Israelis snaking out the door at Hummus Sawila, we pulled the trigger and joined the queue, despite sweating our asses off in the blazing sun.
Let me tell you, waiting in a tight line with Israelis is a contact sport. A good portion of the locals genuinely feel it is their God-given right to cut right in front of you. I just had to smile at the absolute balls on display. It actually got me wondering why more Israelis aren’t playing big-time basketball in the NBA as premier rebounders. The entire population possesses this unique, uncanny ability to “box out” and battle for physical position in any crowd or line. I have officially learned to sharpen my elbows before entering any crowded space in this country. The hustle is real.
A Bucket List Decree: Besides the fantastic hummus, I will go on official record right here and now: it was in this very market that I ate the single best dessert I have ever consumed. It’s an Arabic pastry called Kanafeh—made with gooey melted cheese, crispy shredded pastry, and drenched in sweet syrup. This stuff will probably never taste the same anywhere outside the Middle East. Next time you find yourself in Israel, put a hot slice of Kanafeh on your non-negotiable bucket list of must-eats.
Nazareth:
We pushed inland to Nazareth because we managed to secure a private room at the highly touted Fauzi Azar Inn. Now, this place is far from fancy or hip, but the 200-year-old Arab mansion turned guesthouse was so freaking cool and just gushing with historic character and charm.
We spent two full nights deep in the Old City of Nazareth. I’ll admit, when we first rolled into town, I questioned whether it was a good decision to spend two whole nights here. It’s hectic. But once you peel back the chaotic outer layers of Nazareth, the true treasures of the place start revealing themselves.
[The Nazareth Perspective]
* The Advice: Tourists are often warned away from West Bank towns like Ramallah or Hebron due to safety.
* The Alternative: Nazareth is a 100% safe Arab-Palestinian city right in the heart of Northern Israel.
* The Result: Unmatched hospitality, incredible food, and a front-row seat to local culture.
What made our stay so fascinating was the immersive experience of living in a predominantly Arab-Palestinian city. We had been advised by various people to avoid crossing into Palestinian Authority towns like Ramallah, Hebron, or Nablus because of geopolitical security issues. Staying in Nazareth turned out to be a fantastic alternative.
Even though Nazareth is located right in the geographical heart of Northern Israel, it felt like we had stepped into a completely different country. The city felt entirely safe, the local Palestinian people were incredibly kind and welcoming to us, and the Arabic food we ate was second to none. Most importantly, it forced us to slow down and learn about a different way of life. Our stay provided a front-row seat to daily life from an Arab-Palestinian perspective. We were fortunate to connect with plenty of locals over tea and hear the other side of the complex Israeli-Palestinian equation. It was a stark, fascinating contrast to our time spent in Tel Aviv—a place completely etched into my mind that I’ll never forget.
Thru the Binocs:
Looking back at our journey across Israel, what makes the country such a high-functioning and comfortable place to travel is the profound sense of internal harmony and solidarity among the people. Daily life appears highly organized—with the obvious exception of when they are pushing, shoving, and boxing you out for position on a lunch line.
I found myself questioning whether this highly structured, resilient lifestyle is a direct result of national conscription. Every single young Israeli citizen, male and female, must serve in the military. Has that shared sacrifice instilled a set of core values and a level of hard discipline that keeps the society glued together? From what I’ve seen on the ground, this mandatory military service establishes an undeniable sense of national order.
I got a very similar feeling during our month spent in Singapore, where the population lives under firm, no-nonsense, military-like laws. It has become pretty evident to me during my 14 months on the road that the vast majority of “us humans” don’t naturally know how to act properly; we are in desperate need of some form of firm guidance, boundaries, and direction to keep the rails on.
In Israel, I constantly noticed total strangers interacting and communicating with each other in a deeply sincere, familial way. You see massive, multi-generational families out in the parks completely enjoying each other’s company without looking at phones. Even though Barbie and I were total outsiders in this country, we felt wrapped in that unique sense of family. It was almost like Israel had always been our home.
Our time here has been a overwhelmingly positive experience for me. Having the opportunity to flashpack through such a wide, diverse range of countries gives you the rare ability to view alternative ways of living and look at the world from perspectives completely outside the ones you were raised with back in New York. There are always different angles to a story, and our travels have definitely made me a much more open-minded human. I really believe in that old saying: “Travel is the only thing you can buy that makes you richer.”
Well, enough with the deep, introspective philosophy. Both Barbie and I are leaving Israel with smiles on our faces. It is now time to flip the script, change our mindset, and head straight into the Land of Oz, the Land of Meat Pies, the Land of “No Worries,” the Land Down Under… Australia.
The Official Big Doug Loose Stools Index
🚽 Loose Stools Index: 8.7/10
The gut adapted to the Middle Eastern spices like a seasoned pro, leaving us clean and ready for the long-haul transit over to the Australian beer and pie circuit. Bring on the flight!
Big Doug & Barbie Drop Out of Society 