L'Ancre
Le pub de Haïfa où vous pouvez oublier vos soucis
de Haaretz Par Ronit Vered 17:00 01.11.12
Le pub L'Ancre à Haïfa marque son 70e anniversaire, c’est un bon
endroit pour oublier vos soucis - matin, midi ou soir
Il est 10 heures à L'Ancre (Haogen Pub) à Haïfa. Dans la soirée, le
personnel fêtera 70e anniversaire du bar, mais maintenant, pendant
le premier quart du matin, tout est encore calme. Un client levé tôt,
Leibele, est assis à l'une des tables à l'extérieur, comme il le fait
chaque matin. Ancien marin, d'un groupe qui s’amenuise de marins
âgés qui ont fait du pub leur deuxième maison, il boit un verre de
panaché à la mémoire des vivants et des morts. Derrière le bar
lambrissé se tient Yossef (Yoske) Pincus, comme il l'a fait chaque
jour pendant les 50 dernières années. Vêtu d'une chemise rouge vif,
il arbore sur sa tête chauve un chapeau de marin Popeye de style
traditionnel, orné de nombreuses broches et médailles d'honneur.
Une pipe éteinte se balance sur le côté de sa bouche, et autour de son
cou, il porte un joli foulard noué avec élégance. Le foulard est
toujours coordonne avec sa chemise, et son visage accueillant est
toujours prompt à sourire.
"Au ciel il n'y a pas de bière, donc nous devons boire autant que
possible ici», dit le barman âgé, en versant un verre et en exposant
sa philosophie à un client de passage assis au bar. Toute la
philosophie peut se résumer à sa version traduite d'un conte
populaire allemand disant sur quels clients réguliers fonder leur
mode de vie. Comme Yoske et les buveurs de bière commencent à se
sentir bien, la conversation porte sur de vieux souvenirs.
Sur les murs du bar, qui est devenu un musée miniature de l'histoire
privée et nationale, sont accrochés des photos et des souvenirs de la
vie mouvementée de son propriétaire. Yoske est né à Bedzin (Bendin)
dans le sud de la Pologne en 1928, et voici la première photo de lui
garçon, après sa libération du camp de concentration de Dachau.
D'un fichier de documents, il sort le permis de travail français qui
lui a été accordé quand il est arrivé à Paris de Munich à la recherche
de sa sœur. De son réservoir de souvenirs, l'histoire de la fille d'un
boulanger et un jeune amour hésitant émergent soudain.
Et fièrement affichée sur le mur d'en face est une image du premier
navire qui est devenu une maison pour lui après le camp de réfugiés
à Marseille.
«Ma véritable enfance est la flotte marchande», dit-il. «J’avais un lit,
des draps, de la nourriture et de l'argent. Que faut-il d’autre? Et j'ai
vu le monde. Comme le monde est grand et beau. J'ai passé
beaucoup de temps dans les bars de Rotterdam et de La Havane -
avant que Castro ait pris le pouvoir - et je parcourais les rues de
Hong Kong, Bangkok, Rio de Janeiro et New York ».
"Théodore Herzl", "Komemiyut», «Atzmaut», «Negba» et «Patria»
sont des noms de navires qui sont entrés dans le panthéon israélien,
ils étaient aussi les noms des navires sur lesquels Pincus a servi en
tant que cuisinier. "Sur l'un des premiers navires sur lesquels j'ai
navigué, Hannah la kibboutznikit travaillait à la cuisine», se
souvient-il. "Elle préparait de la nourriture très mauvaise. Un jour,
je ne pouvais plus supporter le menu. Je suis allé dans la cuisine et
avec les mêmes produits et des produits en conserve, j'ai préparé un
repas riche - viande, pommes de terre et légumes. Le capitaine a
goûté, m'a appelé et m'a nommé cuisiner. "
Un autre verre de bière et une autre effusion de fragments de
mémoire et de glorieuses aventures. Pincus jure que comme un
marin de pont, il a été témoin de la conversation historique où Albert
Einstein a rejeté la demande du Premier ministre David Ben
Gourion de servir en tant que président du nouvel État - et les clients
au bar boivent ses mots avec impatience. En haute mer, les lois de
Neptune prédominent, mais au bar de marins il y a d'autres règles -
plus grands sont les contes et les histoires d'héroïsme, mieux c'est.
Le marin audacieux a quitté la mer seulement à cause de sa femme
bien-aimée, Miriam. "Si ce n'avait pas été pour ma femme, j'aurais
eu une pension de marin. Elle a dit : que ce soit moi ou la mer - et je
l'ai choisie ".
Dans les années 1960, Miriam et Yosef ont acheté le café Natan
Meshi de Haïfa, avec son nom d'origine et sa réputation, et l’ont
transformée en un bar animé du port. À l'époque où toutes les
marchandises de l’Etat d'Israël transitaient par le port de Haïfa, le
quartier était plein de marins, dockers et commerçants. Le menu
modeste de boissons et de nourriture était principalement composé
de bière Goldstar, vodka et cognac 777, avec salade aux œufs, foie
haché, ikra (dip d’œufs de poisson roumain) et bouillon de poulet.
Mais il y avait aussi des jours où des amis amoureux de la mer
apportaient des bouteilles rares de whisky single malt, des saucisses
et des morceaux de choix de fromages, et le bar de Haïfa est devenu
célèbre au loin.
Miriam est morte au milieu des années 1990, après une bataille
contre le cancer, et sa place aux côtés de Yosef a été comblée par
leur fils, Gili. "Sur son lit de mort maman m’a dit:« Ne laissez pas
papa seul, et cela a créé pour moi un engagement. Dans les 10 jours,
j'ai liquidé mon entreprise aux États-Unis, où j'avais vécu pendant
près de six ans et étudié l'économie et la finance internationales, et
je suis rentre en Israël. Pendant les deux premières années, j'ai
travaillé comme un cow-boy sur le plateau du Golan, j'avais besoin
de temps pour surmonter le coup de sa mort, puis je suis venu
travailler avec papa. La première fois que je l'ai pris à la banque -
Maman était également en charge de l'administration et de la
comptabilité - il m'a dit: Écoute, nous pouvons ouvrir un pub très
agréable ici. Depuis, le quart du matin au bar appartient à Yoske, et
Gili est en charge de l'après-midi et du quart du soir. L'ambiance
dans le pub diffère le matin de celle dans la soirée, mais les buveurs
s'amusent à tout moment de la journée.
Pourquoi nous aimons l'Ancre
Depuis l'enfance, nous etions fascinés par les marins. Quand nous
étions enfants, nous voulions être des marins, ou peut-être des
buveurs professionnels, et dans les livres anciens, ils semblaient
synonymes. Beaucoup d'encre a coulé et beaucoup de recherches ont
été faites sur le lien entre les marins et les boissons alcoolisées.
Certains attribuent cette forte connexion à la maigre alimentation
des marins dans le Vieux Monde. Afin d'éviter l'eau stagnante et
moisie, une source d'infections et de maladies, les marins
mélangeaient l'eau potable avec de l'alcool. D'autres pensent qu'une
petite ration quotidienne d'alcool était l'un des seuls moyens
d'adoucir l’ennui, la routine sombre de mois en mer. Et bien
évidemment, la joie de se tenir sur la terre ferme lorsque le navire
atteint le port, conduit à une glorieuse tradition de réjouissances
dans les pubs qui ont été établis sur les quais.
Même aujourd'hui, l'Ancre remplit ces belles promesses. Il n'y a pas
marins borgnes, ni de cage avec un perroquet qui maudit, ou de
capitaine avec un crochet à la place d'une main. Mais la vieille
collection de médailles, casques, boussoles et autres articles
originaux feront battre le cœur du buveur romantique. D’être assis
au bar lambrissé, surtout pendant la journée, vous garantit des
heures où vous pouvez oublier les dangers d'un navire en perdition.
Il n'y pas de bar de la vieille école plus sûr pour les touristes de l’
alcool. Vous pouvez monter dans le train dans l'une des régions
isolées du pays desservies par Israël Railways, descendre à la station
au centre-ville de Haïfa - une promenade de deux minutes à pied du
bar dans la ville basse - nourrir votre corps et votre âme à la bière et
avec les accompagnements classiques de l'alcool (un sandwich au
rôti de bœuf, au hareng ou au fromage grillé) et rentrer à la maison
les yeux vitreux et de bonne humeur.
La bière est son passe-temps
Nom: L'Ancre (HaOgen) a cause de sa proxinite au port
Adresse Shaar Palmer 3
Proprietaires Yosef Yoske (84) et Gili (46) Pinkus
Fonde: 1942
Les fondateurs: Natan Meshi a ouvert un cafe n 1940 ou l'on vendait
des boissons alcoolisees. Yosef et Myriam l'ont rachete en 1962 et
transforme en pub
Avec l'alcool: des bretzels
La boisson du barman: "La Bière. Ni le whisky, ni la vodka. J'ai bu
ma première bière en 1945, après la libération du camp et dans le
train qui m'emmenait de Munich à Paris. Depuis lors, je n'ai pas
arrêté. La bière est mon hobby», dit Yoske.
Clients célèbres: Capitaine Steve (le surnom du capitaine espagnol
qui a contribué à faire venir des immigrants illégaux dans les années
1940 et est resté en Israël); Raful (Rafael Eitan, l'ancien chef d’etat
major et politicien dit Yoske: «Il ne buvait pas beaucoup, mais il
s'assayait à la table du capitaine tous les vendredis »). L'ancien
commandant de la marine d'Israël Eliezer (Chiney) Marom (déjà à
l'époque où il était un cadet. Ils devraient avoir honte du scandale
qu'ils lui ont causé avec l'incident des strip-teaseuses. C'est une vielle
tradition des marins. Aux États-Unis il y a un club de strip-tease près
de la clôture de chaque base navale "); le maire de Haïfa, Yona
Yahav (" Il boit panaché avec modération ").
Le plus ancien client: George, plus de 80, ancien ingénieur en chef
de la flotte marchande. Il avait l'habitude de boire "Cuba libre"
(rhum coca), un cocktail populaire parmi les personnes âgées
Une histoire inoubliable sur les ivrognes: «David et Marco étaient
une paire de criminels qui contrôlaient toute la pègre dans le district
de Haïfa», explique Gili. «la contrebande, la drogue, la prostitution,
toutes les bonnes choses. Chaque vendredi, ils ouvraient une grande
table dans la pub pour Kabbalat Shabbat (pour accueillir le
Shabbat). J'étais un enfant, et ils m’appelaient «Maitre Benjamin, «
après un célèbre avocat criminel à l'époque, et disaient que quand je
grandirais je deviendrais un avocat qui les défendrait à la cour.
Quand ils commençaient à boire, l’alcool leur montait à la tête et ils
commençaient à se battre. Ils casaient des assiettes, des verres, des
tables, des vitres. Chaque semaine, la même histoire. Je demandais à
papa pourquoi il continuait à les laisser entrer, jusqu'à ce que j’aie
compris.
"Le dimanche," Gili continue, "l'un d'eux venait, tirait de l’argent
de sa poche et demandait:« Yoske, quel est le dommage? "Il payait
généreusement pour les réparations, laissait un pourboire pour la
serveuse et repartait jusqu’au vendredi suivant. "
Le pub de Haïfa où vous pouvez oublier vos soucis
de Haaretz Par Ronit Vered 17:00 01.11.12
Le pub L'Ancre à Haïfa marque son 70e anniversaire, c’est un bon
endroit pour oublier vos soucis - matin, midi ou soir
Il est 10 heures à L'Ancre (Haogen Pub) à Haïfa. Dans la soirée, le
personnel fêtera 70e anniversaire du bar, mais maintenant, pendant
le premier quart du matin, tout est encore calme. Un client levé tôt,
Leibele, est assis à l'une des tables à l'extérieur, comme il le fait
chaque matin. Ancien marin, d'un groupe qui s’amenuise de marins
âgés qui ont fait du pub leur deuxième maison, il boit un verre de
panaché à la mémoire des vivants et des morts. Derrière le bar
lambrissé se tient Yossef (Yoske) Pincus, comme il l'a fait chaque
jour pendant les 50 dernières années. Vêtu d'une chemise rouge vif,
il arbore sur sa tête chauve un chapeau de marin Popeye de style
traditionnel, orné de nombreuses broches et médailles d'honneur.
Une pipe éteinte se balance sur le côté de sa bouche, et autour de son
cou, il porte un joli foulard noué avec élégance. Le foulard est
toujours coordonne avec sa chemise, et son visage accueillant est
toujours prompt à sourire.
"Au ciel il n'y a pas de bière, donc nous devons boire autant que
possible ici», dit le barman âgé, en versant un verre et en exposant
sa philosophie à un client de passage assis au bar. Toute la
philosophie peut se résumer à sa version traduite d'un conte
populaire allemand disant sur quels clients réguliers fonder leur
mode de vie. Comme Yoske et les buveurs de bière commencent à se
sentir bien, la conversation porte sur de vieux souvenirs.
Sur les murs du bar, qui est devenu un musée miniature de l'histoire
privée et nationale, sont accrochés des photos et des souvenirs de la
vie mouvementée de son propriétaire. Yoske est né à Bedzin (Bendin)
dans le sud de la Pologne en 1928, et voici la première photo de lui
garçon, après sa libération du camp de concentration de Dachau.
D'un fichier de documents, il sort le permis de travail français qui
lui a été accordé quand il est arrivé à Paris de Munich à la recherche
de sa sœur. De son réservoir de souvenirs, l'histoire de la fille d'un
boulanger et un jeune amour hésitant émergent soudain.
Et fièrement affichée sur le mur d'en face est une image du premier
navire qui est devenu une maison pour lui après le camp de réfugiés
à Marseille.
«Ma véritable enfance est la flotte marchande», dit-il. «J’avais un lit,
des draps, de la nourriture et de l'argent. Que faut-il d’autre? Et j'ai
vu le monde. Comme le monde est grand et beau. J'ai passé
beaucoup de temps dans les bars de Rotterdam et de La Havane -
avant que Castro ait pris le pouvoir - et je parcourais les rues de
Hong Kong, Bangkok, Rio de Janeiro et New York ».
"Théodore Herzl", "Komemiyut», «Atzmaut», «Negba» et «Patria»
sont des noms de navires qui sont entrés dans le panthéon israélien,
ils étaient aussi les noms des navires sur lesquels Pincus a servi en
tant que cuisinier. "Sur l'un des premiers navires sur lesquels j'ai
navigué, Hannah la kibboutznikit travaillait à la cuisine», se
souvient-il. "Elle préparait de la nourriture très mauvaise. Un jour,
je ne pouvais plus supporter le menu. Je suis allé dans la cuisine et
avec les mêmes produits et des produits en conserve, j'ai préparé un
repas riche - viande, pommes de terre et légumes. Le capitaine a
goûté, m'a appelé et m'a nommé cuisiner. "
Un autre verre de bière et une autre effusion de fragments de
mémoire et de glorieuses aventures. Pincus jure que comme un
marin de pont, il a été témoin de la conversation historique où Albert
Einstein a rejeté la demande du Premier ministre David Ben
Gourion de servir en tant que président du nouvel État - et les clients
au bar boivent ses mots avec impatience. En haute mer, les lois de
Neptune prédominent, mais au bar de marins il y a d'autres règles -
plus grands sont les contes et les histoires d'héroïsme, mieux c'est.
Le marin audacieux a quitté la mer seulement à cause de sa femme
bien-aimée, Miriam. "Si ce n'avait pas été pour ma femme, j'aurais
eu une pension de marin. Elle a dit : que ce soit moi ou la mer - et je
l'ai choisie ".
Dans les années 1960, Miriam et Yosef ont acheté le café Natan
Meshi de Haïfa, avec son nom d'origine et sa réputation, et l’ont
transformée en un bar animé du port. À l'époque où toutes les
marchandises de l’Etat d'Israël transitaient par le port de Haïfa, le
quartier était plein de marins, dockers et commerçants. Le menu
modeste de boissons et de nourriture était principalement composé
de bière Goldstar, vodka et cognac 777, avec salade aux œufs, foie
haché, ikra (dip d’œufs de poisson roumain) et bouillon de poulet.
Mais il y avait aussi des jours où des amis amoureux de la mer
apportaient des bouteilles rares de whisky single malt, des saucisses
et des morceaux de choix de fromages, et le bar de Haïfa est devenu
célèbre au loin.
Miriam est morte au milieu des années 1990, après une bataille
contre le cancer, et sa place aux côtés de Yosef a été comblée par
leur fils, Gili. "Sur son lit de mort maman m’a dit:« Ne laissez pas
papa seul, et cela a créé pour moi un engagement. Dans les 10 jours,
j'ai liquidé mon entreprise aux États-Unis, où j'avais vécu pendant
près de six ans et étudié l'économie et la finance internationales, et
je suis rentre en Israël. Pendant les deux premières années, j'ai
travaillé comme un cow-boy sur le plateau du Golan, j'avais besoin
de temps pour surmonter le coup de sa mort, puis je suis venu
travailler avec papa. La première fois que je l'ai pris à la banque -
Maman était également en charge de l'administration et de la
comptabilité - il m'a dit: Écoute, nous pouvons ouvrir un pub très
agréable ici. Depuis, le quart du matin au bar appartient à Yoske, et
Gili est en charge de l'après-midi et du quart du soir. L'ambiance
dans le pub diffère le matin de celle dans la soirée, mais les buveurs
s'amusent à tout moment de la journée.
Pourquoi nous aimons l'Ancre
Depuis l'enfance, nous etions fascinés par les marins. Quand nous
étions enfants, nous voulions être des marins, ou peut-être des
buveurs professionnels, et dans les livres anciens, ils semblaient
synonymes. Beaucoup d'encre a coulé et beaucoup de recherches ont
été faites sur le lien entre les marins et les boissons alcoolisées.
Certains attribuent cette forte connexion à la maigre alimentation
des marins dans le Vieux Monde. Afin d'éviter l'eau stagnante et
moisie, une source d'infections et de maladies, les marins
mélangeaient l'eau potable avec de l'alcool. D'autres pensent qu'une
petite ration quotidienne d'alcool était l'un des seuls moyens
d'adoucir l’ennui, la routine sombre de mois en mer. Et bien
évidemment, la joie de se tenir sur la terre ferme lorsque le navire
atteint le port, conduit à une glorieuse tradition de réjouissances
dans les pubs qui ont été établis sur les quais.
Même aujourd'hui, l'Ancre remplit ces belles promesses. Il n'y a pas
marins borgnes, ni de cage avec un perroquet qui maudit, ou de
capitaine avec un crochet à la place d'une main. Mais la vieille
collection de médailles, casques, boussoles et autres articles
originaux feront battre le cœur du buveur romantique. D’être assis
au bar lambrissé, surtout pendant la journée, vous garantit des
heures où vous pouvez oublier les dangers d'un navire en perdition.
Il n'y pas de bar de la vieille école plus sûr pour les touristes de l’
alcool. Vous pouvez monter dans le train dans l'une des régions
isolées du pays desservies par Israël Railways, descendre à la station
au centre-ville de Haïfa - une promenade de deux minutes à pied du
bar dans la ville basse - nourrir votre corps et votre âme à la bière et
avec les accompagnements classiques de l'alcool (un sandwich au
rôti de bœuf, au hareng ou au fromage grillé) et rentrer à la maison
les yeux vitreux et de bonne humeur.
La bière est son passe-temps
Nom: L'Ancre (HaOgen) a cause de sa proxinite au port
Adresse Shaar Palmer 3
Proprietaires Yosef Yoske (84) et Gili (46) Pinkus
Fonde: 1942
Les fondateurs: Natan Meshi a ouvert un cafe n 1940 ou l'on vendait
des boissons alcoolisees. Yosef et Myriam l'ont rachete en 1962 et
transforme en pub
Avec l'alcool: des bretzels
La boisson du barman: "La Bière. Ni le whisky, ni la vodka. J'ai bu
ma première bière en 1945, après la libération du camp et dans le
train qui m'emmenait de Munich à Paris. Depuis lors, je n'ai pas
arrêté. La bière est mon hobby», dit Yoske.
Clients célèbres: Capitaine Steve (le surnom du capitaine espagnol
qui a contribué à faire venir des immigrants illégaux dans les années
1940 et est resté en Israël); Raful (Rafael Eitan, l'ancien chef d’etat
major et politicien dit Yoske: «Il ne buvait pas beaucoup, mais il
s'assayait à la table du capitaine tous les vendredis »). L'ancien
commandant de la marine d'Israël Eliezer (Chiney) Marom (déjà à
l'époque où il était un cadet. Ils devraient avoir honte du scandale
qu'ils lui ont causé avec l'incident des strip-teaseuses. C'est une vielle
tradition des marins. Aux États-Unis il y a un club de strip-tease près
de la clôture de chaque base navale "); le maire de Haïfa, Yona
Yahav (" Il boit panaché avec modération ").
Le plus ancien client: George, plus de 80, ancien ingénieur en chef
de la flotte marchande. Il avait l'habitude de boire "Cuba libre"
(rhum coca), un cocktail populaire parmi les personnes âgées
Une histoire inoubliable sur les ivrognes: «David et Marco étaient
une paire de criminels qui contrôlaient toute la pègre dans le district
de Haïfa», explique Gili. «la contrebande, la drogue, la prostitution,
toutes les bonnes choses. Chaque vendredi, ils ouvraient une grande
table dans la pub pour Kabbalat Shabbat (pour accueillir le
Shabbat). J'étais un enfant, et ils m’appelaient «Maitre Benjamin, «
après un célèbre avocat criminel à l'époque, et disaient que quand je
grandirais je deviendrais un avocat qui les défendrait à la cour.
Quand ils commençaient à boire, l’alcool leur montait à la tête et ils
commençaient à se battre. Ils casaient des assiettes, des verres, des
tables, des vitres. Chaque semaine, la même histoire. Je demandais à
papa pourquoi il continuait à les laisser entrer, jusqu'à ce que j’aie
compris.
"Le dimanche," Gili continue, "l'un d'eux venait, tirait de l’argent
de sa poche et demandait:« Yoske, quel est le dommage? "Il payait
généreusement pour les réparations, laissait un pourboire pour la
serveuse et repartait jusqu’au vendredi suivant. "
Haifa, La Ville
Downtown
et/and
Campus HaNamal
Downtown
et/and
Campus HaNamal
L'ancien centre commercial de Haifa concu au temps du mandat britannique par l'architecte Fritz
Korenberg est en processus de rehabilitation: deja, a cote d'une nouvelle branche de l'Universite de
Haifa, des Colleges Academiques Tiltan et Carmel, de residences universitaires, on trouve dans le
Campus du Port l'un des meilleurs restaurants d'Israel, des pubs branches, un marche des plus
animes, des coins pittoresques et bohemes, tout pres de la Place de Paris
Le Campus du Port est a quelques minutes de marche du centre administratif et commercial de Haifa
Il est desservi par la Metronit (Nord-Sud) et de nombreuses lignes d'autobus, une station de train
(ligne Naharyiha-Tel-Aviv-BenGurion), la Carmelit qui monte vers Hadar et le Carmel
Korenberg est en processus de rehabilitation: deja, a cote d'une nouvelle branche de l'Universite de
Haifa, des Colleges Academiques Tiltan et Carmel, de residences universitaires, on trouve dans le
Campus du Port l'un des meilleurs restaurants d'Israel, des pubs branches, un marche des plus
animes, des coins pittoresques et bohemes, tout pres de la Place de Paris
Le Campus du Port est a quelques minutes de marche du centre administratif et commercial de Haifa
Il est desservi par la Metronit (Nord-Sud) et de nombreuses lignes d'autobus, une station de train
(ligne Naharyiha-Tel-Aviv-BenGurion), la Carmelit qui monte vers Hadar et le Carmel
College Carmel
Carmel College
Carmel College
Tiltan College for communication and Design
College Tiltan pour le Design et la Communication
College Tiltan pour le Design et la Communication
Universite de Haifa
Haifa University
Haifa University
HaNamal 24, Gourmet Restaurant
The ancient Haifa Commercial Center that was conceived during the British Mandate by the architect Fritz Korenberg
is undergoing thorough renovation and gentrification : already, next to a new branch of Haifa University, and of Tiltan
and Carmel Academic Colleges, students dormitories, one can find in the Port Campus one of Israel's finest
restaurants, lively pubs, a market, picturesque and funky places, just next to the Place de Paris
The Port Campus is a few minutes walk from Haifa's administrative and business center, just next to the Matronit
(North-South mass transportation), various bus lines, a train station (Naharyiha-Tel-Aviv-BenGurion line) and the
Carmelit subway that climbs towards Hadar and the Central Carmel
is undergoing thorough renovation and gentrification : already, next to a new branch of Haifa University, and of Tiltan
and Carmel Academic Colleges, students dormitories, one can find in the Port Campus one of Israel's finest
restaurants, lively pubs, a market, picturesque and funky places, just next to the Place de Paris
The Port Campus is a few minutes walk from Haifa's administrative and business center, just next to the Matronit
(North-South mass transportation), various bus lines, a train station (Naharyiha-Tel-Aviv-BenGurion line) and the
Carmelit subway that climbs towards Hadar and the Central Carmel
From Haaretz 18/02/2008
Neighborhood renewal, or urban waste?
By Shani Shilo
Driving along Independence Street in the lower city of Haifa, you see sign after sign
trumpeting the future inauguration of this or that college in the future Port Campus.
In most cases, the buildings marked for development house nothing but pigeons and fleas.
This neglect doesn't exactly scream of an inspiring project designed to change the face of
Haifa and renew the dilapidated neighborhoods at the bottom of the mountain. But though
investment may be slow, the Haifa municipality truly is devoting major resources to the future
campus - at the expense of the Hadar Hacarmel neighborhood, which remains in the rear.
Haifa mayor Yona Yahav told TheMarker Real Estate in August 2005 that within a few years,
the lower city would become a buzzing center, proudly housing faculties from the Technion
and Haifa universities, alongside a selection of colleges.
The campus is the city's solution for a tedious problem: the empty buildings in the area that
once provided services to government institutions but whose offices moved to new edifices in
Kiryat Hamemshala. Hassan Shukri Street is an example: once it housed many a government
building, such as the local offices of the Interior Ministry, the court house, and city hall. But
with the inauguration of the government complex, the offices emptied and now stand innocent
of sapient life.
Architect David Gershon believes that the city's choice to invest in the lower city, while
ignoring Hadar - which is also studded with empty buildings - is like giving an organ
transplant to a patient with a fatal condition, while ignoring the needs of another patient who
needs that organ and whose chances of recovery are good.
"The lower city is dead, but Hadar is still in the process of dying, and could be improved
through investment," he says. "Herzl Street is still active, there are residential areas, there are
schools. It would be easier to save it."
Meanwhile, completely divorced from whatever the city means to do in the lower city, the
university went ahead and found buildings and dormitories for students in Hadar, Gershon
continues. "Efforts are becoming scattered. This one is promoting the Port Campus idea and
the other is promoting Hadar. Each is pulling in the direction that suits it," he says.
Haifa is not an easy city to plan. Its topography, and the development of its new
neighborhoods, have created a patchwork city in which one part has nothing to do with the
other. The most extreme example is the absence of a clearly defined "downtown" - city center.
That is a serious deficiency for what's supposed to be a metropolitan center. The dissociation
between the city sections makes it almost impossible for investment in the lower city to climb
up the mountain to Hadar.
"It's easy to state that a solution is needed, but the solution for Hadar would be complicated,"
Gershon says. "A master plan is being prepared for Haifa, but at such a low-definition
resolution, you can't really see Hadar's problems in detail. Hadar isn't a single unit and
because of that, the master plan can't go deep, creating a program for saving the
neighborhood."
He feels that the city has no choice: "It can't leave a black hole. It doesn't need to handle the
whole of Hadar. It would be enough to take one segment and to do various renewal works
there. Possibly the success would be so great that it would seep into the adjacent areas."
A few years ago, the city of Haifa commissioned a plan to save Hadar. The planning team was
led by architects Amir Mann and Ami Shenar, who worked with Prof. Yona
Ginsburg-Gershoni and Dr Gustavo Mesch, who addressed the social issues. Yet for various
reasons the plan was shelved, leaving little trace of actual progress behind.
Shenar, a partner in Mann-Shenar Architects, says that the final report was delivered in 2003.
Its concept was to improve the standard of living in the urban environment. "As part of the
plan we thought to revolutionize transportation in Hadar. We suggested removing some of the
bus lines from the area and turning Herzl Street into a pedestrian walkway, following which a
light-train system would be built."
He stresses that they weren't suggesting pies in the skies. They didn't mean to turn Hadar into
a Holy Land version of Boston or Madrid. "Most of Hadar is built-up and privately owned.
You have to grant incentives to renovate," he says, by which he means - extra building rights.
That is how Tel Aviv renewed its city center, Shenar points out.
"Hadar Hacarmel is where the center of Tel Aviv was 30 years ago," he says, and what made
the difference was the small things - regulating the schools and kindergartens, building and
improving public gardens and playgrounds, and so on.
The plan for Hadar indeed includes strengthening educational and cultural institutions, giving
building owners more building rights in exchange for prettying up their dumps, and finding
solutions for the empty buildings, such as the ones on Hassan Shukri Street. Namely, turn
them into cultural centers.
That's the plan. The practice is nonexistent. There are pinpoint efforts to fix up this or that
street, but barring filled potholes, Hadar just deteriorates from dilapidated to drecky.
"It's a missed opportunity for urban renewal," Shenar chides the city chiefs. "Hadar is a
beautiful place" - halfway down a dramatic mountain overlooking the blue-green
Mediterranean Sea - "and it boasts modern building in stone, and a great deal of Bauhaus
construction. But throughout the years nobody branded the Hadar as part of the city center."
Which, geographically, it is.
Shmuel Gelbhart, architect and city planner, is head of engineering at the Haifa municipality
and also chairs its planning and building committee. He admits that any improvements to
Hadar have been confined to the cosmetic. "Roads are fixed here and there, but it's clear that
the main effort is being devoted to the lower city. It seems that it's hard to raise two flags at
the same time," he says.
One reason for targeting the lower city was high hopes of building a light-train system, which
could leverage the whole area, Gelbhart says. Hadar just got left behind.
He doesn't believe that the plan formulated by Shenar and Mann will change Hadar's
situation, either. All they'll get is the same grubby Hadar, but more crowded (because of
landlords adding more stories to their buildings).
What the neighborhood sorely lacks is open space: "It has only 0.7 square meters of open
space per person," Gelbhart laments. "That's more crowded than Gaza. The policy statement
suggested that children play on the rooftops."
And if the city were to renovate the houses, and add high-rise residential towers, that wouldn't
bring more the prosperous segments of society to the Hadar, Gelbhart adds. No question about
it, fixing up Hadar is a matter for taxpayer money, he concludes. "You can't expect a poor
neighborhood like Hadar to redo a billion facades using private money."
He has some ideas for architectural solutions to the Hadar's woes. For example, he envisions
turning Herzl Street into an open-sky urban shopping center, centered on a classic Middle
Eastern bazaar, the kind of thing that tourists adore. Another idea is to connect the old
Technion to the government complex to public gardens with a conveyor belt.
But even if Gelbhart is at the center of power in the city of Haifa, that doesn't mean his ideas
will prevail. For now, they're on paper. "I'm in the minority," he admits. "The majority voted
in favor of the plan to increase population density, and at the end of the day, we live in a
democracy."
Which doesn't mean that the plan to increase crowding will happen either. A master plan for
the Balfour, Masada, and Hillel streets has been prepared - but it isn't economically feasible,
Gelbhart adds.
Urban planning isn't an exact science and the question of which plan would benefit Hadar the
most isn't going to be answered, at least not any time soon. But one thing is for sure. The
city's decision not to decide, but to implement tiny flashes of ideas here and there in
haphazard, pinpoint
isn't going to rescue Hadar.
Neighborhood renewal, or urban waste?
By Shani Shilo
Driving along Independence Street in the lower city of Haifa, you see sign after sign
trumpeting the future inauguration of this or that college in the future Port Campus.
In most cases, the buildings marked for development house nothing but pigeons and fleas.
This neglect doesn't exactly scream of an inspiring project designed to change the face of
Haifa and renew the dilapidated neighborhoods at the bottom of the mountain. But though
investment may be slow, the Haifa municipality truly is devoting major resources to the future
campus - at the expense of the Hadar Hacarmel neighborhood, which remains in the rear.
Haifa mayor Yona Yahav told TheMarker Real Estate in August 2005 that within a few years,
the lower city would become a buzzing center, proudly housing faculties from the Technion
and Haifa universities, alongside a selection of colleges.
The campus is the city's solution for a tedious problem: the empty buildings in the area that
once provided services to government institutions but whose offices moved to new edifices in
Kiryat Hamemshala. Hassan Shukri Street is an example: once it housed many a government
building, such as the local offices of the Interior Ministry, the court house, and city hall. But
with the inauguration of the government complex, the offices emptied and now stand innocent
of sapient life.
Architect David Gershon believes that the city's choice to invest in the lower city, while
ignoring Hadar - which is also studded with empty buildings - is like giving an organ
transplant to a patient with a fatal condition, while ignoring the needs of another patient who
needs that organ and whose chances of recovery are good.
"The lower city is dead, but Hadar is still in the process of dying, and could be improved
through investment," he says. "Herzl Street is still active, there are residential areas, there are
schools. It would be easier to save it."
Meanwhile, completely divorced from whatever the city means to do in the lower city, the
university went ahead and found buildings and dormitories for students in Hadar, Gershon
continues. "Efforts are becoming scattered. This one is promoting the Port Campus idea and
the other is promoting Hadar. Each is pulling in the direction that suits it," he says.
Haifa is not an easy city to plan. Its topography, and the development of its new
neighborhoods, have created a patchwork city in which one part has nothing to do with the
other. The most extreme example is the absence of a clearly defined "downtown" - city center.
That is a serious deficiency for what's supposed to be a metropolitan center. The dissociation
between the city sections makes it almost impossible for investment in the lower city to climb
up the mountain to Hadar.
"It's easy to state that a solution is needed, but the solution for Hadar would be complicated,"
Gershon says. "A master plan is being prepared for Haifa, but at such a low-definition
resolution, you can't really see Hadar's problems in detail. Hadar isn't a single unit and
because of that, the master plan can't go deep, creating a program for saving the
neighborhood."
He feels that the city has no choice: "It can't leave a black hole. It doesn't need to handle the
whole of Hadar. It would be enough to take one segment and to do various renewal works
there. Possibly the success would be so great that it would seep into the adjacent areas."
A few years ago, the city of Haifa commissioned a plan to save Hadar. The planning team was
led by architects Amir Mann and Ami Shenar, who worked with Prof. Yona
Ginsburg-Gershoni and Dr Gustavo Mesch, who addressed the social issues. Yet for various
reasons the plan was shelved, leaving little trace of actual progress behind.
Shenar, a partner in Mann-Shenar Architects, says that the final report was delivered in 2003.
Its concept was to improve the standard of living in the urban environment. "As part of the
plan we thought to revolutionize transportation in Hadar. We suggested removing some of the
bus lines from the area and turning Herzl Street into a pedestrian walkway, following which a
light-train system would be built."
He stresses that they weren't suggesting pies in the skies. They didn't mean to turn Hadar into
a Holy Land version of Boston or Madrid. "Most of Hadar is built-up and privately owned.
You have to grant incentives to renovate," he says, by which he means - extra building rights.
That is how Tel Aviv renewed its city center, Shenar points out.
"Hadar Hacarmel is where the center of Tel Aviv was 30 years ago," he says, and what made
the difference was the small things - regulating the schools and kindergartens, building and
improving public gardens and playgrounds, and so on.
The plan for Hadar indeed includes strengthening educational and cultural institutions, giving
building owners more building rights in exchange for prettying up their dumps, and finding
solutions for the empty buildings, such as the ones on Hassan Shukri Street. Namely, turn
them into cultural centers.
That's the plan. The practice is nonexistent. There are pinpoint efforts to fix up this or that
street, but barring filled potholes, Hadar just deteriorates from dilapidated to drecky.
"It's a missed opportunity for urban renewal," Shenar chides the city chiefs. "Hadar is a
beautiful place" - halfway down a dramatic mountain overlooking the blue-green
Mediterranean Sea - "and it boasts modern building in stone, and a great deal of Bauhaus
construction. But throughout the years nobody branded the Hadar as part of the city center."
Which, geographically, it is.
Shmuel Gelbhart, architect and city planner, is head of engineering at the Haifa municipality
and also chairs its planning and building committee. He admits that any improvements to
Hadar have been confined to the cosmetic. "Roads are fixed here and there, but it's clear that
the main effort is being devoted to the lower city. It seems that it's hard to raise two flags at
the same time," he says.
One reason for targeting the lower city was high hopes of building a light-train system, which
could leverage the whole area, Gelbhart says. Hadar just got left behind.
He doesn't believe that the plan formulated by Shenar and Mann will change Hadar's
situation, either. All they'll get is the same grubby Hadar, but more crowded (because of
landlords adding more stories to their buildings).
What the neighborhood sorely lacks is open space: "It has only 0.7 square meters of open
space per person," Gelbhart laments. "That's more crowded than Gaza. The policy statement
suggested that children play on the rooftops."
And if the city were to renovate the houses, and add high-rise residential towers, that wouldn't
bring more the prosperous segments of society to the Hadar, Gelbhart adds. No question about
it, fixing up Hadar is a matter for taxpayer money, he concludes. "You can't expect a poor
neighborhood like Hadar to redo a billion facades using private money."
He has some ideas for architectural solutions to the Hadar's woes. For example, he envisions
turning Herzl Street into an open-sky urban shopping center, centered on a classic Middle
Eastern bazaar, the kind of thing that tourists adore. Another idea is to connect the old
Technion to the government complex to public gardens with a conveyor belt.
But even if Gelbhart is at the center of power in the city of Haifa, that doesn't mean his ideas
will prevail. For now, they're on paper. "I'm in the minority," he admits. "The majority voted
in favor of the plan to increase population density, and at the end of the day, we live in a
democracy."
Which doesn't mean that the plan to increase crowding will happen either. A master plan for
the Balfour, Masada, and Hillel streets has been prepared - but it isn't economically feasible,
Gelbhart adds.
Urban planning isn't an exact science and the question of which plan would benefit Hadar the
most isn't going to be answered, at least not any time soon. But one thing is for sure. The
city's decision not to decide, but to implement tiny flashes of ideas here and there in
haphazard, pinpoint
isn't going to rescue Hadar.
The Port Campus branch of the University of Haifa opened Wednesday, March 3, 2009. The
first stage of activity will offer courses from the Department of Occupational Therapy, the
School of Creative Arts Therapies, the Department of Nursing, the Center for Tourism,
Pilgrimage and Recreation Research, the Division of Continuing education & Extension
Studies, and the Pre-academic Unit.
The branch is located in downtown Haifa, on the “port campus” site that the Haifa
municipality is promoting in the course of rejuvenating the old center of downtown Haifa to
make it more attractive, especially to youth and students.
The University’s branch is located at 65 Hanamal Street. It comprises new classrooms and up-
to-date computer cubicles that enable communication with the facilities at the main branch:
the library, departments, student administration, and of course, the marvelous characteristic
landscape of the senior campus - a view of the sea.
The campus is situated only a few minutes’ walk away from the train station. Those arriving
in private cars can use the 300-car parking lot free of charge. Public bus transportation is
also available to and from the new campus.
first stage of activity will offer courses from the Department of Occupational Therapy, the
School of Creative Arts Therapies, the Department of Nursing, the Center for Tourism,
Pilgrimage and Recreation Research, the Division of Continuing education & Extension
Studies, and the Pre-academic Unit.
The branch is located in downtown Haifa, on the “port campus” site that the Haifa
municipality is promoting in the course of rejuvenating the old center of downtown Haifa to
make it more attractive, especially to youth and students.
The University’s branch is located at 65 Hanamal Street. It comprises new classrooms and up-
to-date computer cubicles that enable communication with the facilities at the main branch:
the library, departments, student administration, and of course, the marvelous characteristic
landscape of the senior campus - a view of the sea.
The campus is situated only a few minutes’ walk away from the train station. Those arriving
in private cars can use the 300-car parking lot free of charge. Public bus transportation is
also available to and from the new campus.
La patisserie Spiro
Detail du batiment de la banque Anglo-Palestine de l'architecte Alexandre Baerwald
Detail of the Anglo-Palestine bank designed by Alexander Baerwald
Detail of the Anglo-Palestine bank designed by Alexander Baerwald
Clifford Holiday's commercial buildings
Les batiments commerciaux concus par Clifforf Holiday
Les batiments commerciaux concus par Clifforf Holiday
L'entree du port et la station de trains
Downton, la ville
Photo Arnaud Rodrigue
Photo Arnaud Rodrigue
Photo Arnaud Rodrigue
Dagan photo Catherine Leuchter
Kyriat Hamemshala , mosquee Jarina
Photo Catherine Leuchter
Photo Catherine Leuchter
Dortoirs du Campus HaNamal
Students housing
Students housing
L'Ancre, The Anchor, the oldest pub
Et meme Mike Brandt
Debut de construction du projet de la Place des Etudiants,
developpement du Campus HaNamal
Start of construction of the Students Square,
development of Campus HaNamal
developpement du Campus HaNamal
Start of construction of the Students Square,
development of Campus HaNamal
The Anchor
The Haifa pub where you can go to forget your troubles
The Anchor pub in Haifa is now marking its 70th anniversary.
From Haaretz By Ronit Vered 01.11.12
It is a good place to forget your troubles – morning, noon or night
It’s 10 A.M. at The Anchor (Pub Haogen) in Haifa. In the evening the
staff will celebrate the bar’s 70th anniversary, but now, during the first
morning watch, it’s still quiet. An early patron, Leibele, sits at one of
the tables outside, as he does every morning. A former sailor, one of a
dwindling group of older seamen who made the pub their second
home, he drinks a shot of shandy in memory of the living and the
dead. Behind the wood-paneled bar stands Yosef (Yoske) Pincus, as he
has every day for the past 50 years. Wearing a bright red shirt, on his
bald head he sports a traditional Popeye-style sailor hat, adorned with
lots of pins and medals of honor. An unlit pipe dangles from the side
of his mouth, and around his neck he wears an attractive, elegantly
knotted kerchief. The kerchief always matches his shirt, and his
welcoming face is always quick to smile.
“In heaven there’s no beer, so we have to drink as much as possible
here,” says the elderly barman, pouring a glass and expounding his
philosophy to an incidental customer sitting at the bar. The entire
philosophy can be summed up in his translated version of a German
folk saying, on which regular customers base their lifestyle. As Yoske
and the beer drinkers begin to feel good, the conversation turns to old
memories.
On the walls of the bar, which has become a miniature museum of
private and national history, are hung pictures and souvenirs from its
owner’s turbulent life. Yoske was born in Bedzin (Bendin) in southern
Poland in 1928, and here is the first photograph of him as a boy, after
his liberation from the Dachau concentration camp. From a file of
documents he pulls out the French work permit granted to him when
he arrived in Paris from Munich to search for his sister.
From his reservoir of memories, the tale of a baker’s daughter and
hesitant young love suddenly emerges.
And proudly displayed on the wall opposite is a picture of the first ship
that became a home to him after the refugee camp in Marseilles.
“My real childhood is the merchant fleet,” he says. “I had a bed, a
sheet, food and money. What more does a person need? And I saw the
world. How big and beautiful the world is. I spent time in the bars of
Rotterdam and Havana – before Castro came to power – and I roamed
the streets of Hong Kong, Bangkok, Rio de Janeiro and New York.”
“Theodor Herzl,” “Komemiyut,” “Atzmaut,” “Negba,” and “Patria”
are names of ships that entered the Israeli pantheon; they were also
the names of ships on which Pincus served as a cook. “On one of the
first ships on which I sailed, Hannah the kibbutznik worked in the
kitchen,” he recalls. “She prepared very bad food. One day I couldn’t
stand the menu any more. I went into the kitchen and from the same
products and canned goods I prepared a rich meal − meat, potatoes
and vegetables. The captain tasted it, called me over and appointed me
cook.”
Another glass of beer and another outpouring of fragments of memory
and glorious adventures. Pincus swears that as a deck boy he
witnessed the historic conversation in which Albert Einstein turned
down Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion’s request that he serve as
president of the new state − and the patrons at the bar drink in his
words eagerly. On the high seas, the laws of Neptune prevail, but in a
sailors’ bar there are other rules − the more tall tales and stories of
heroism, the better. The daring seaman left the sea, inevitably, only
because of his beloved wife, Miriam. “Had it not been for my wife, I
would have had a sailor’s pension. She said, either me or the sea −
and I chose her.”
In the early 1960s Miriam and Yosef bought Natan Meshi’s Haifa
cafe, with its original name and reputation, and turned it into a
bustling seaport bar. In the days when all the merchandise in the State
of Israel passed through the port of Haifa, the area was full of
seamen, longshoremen and merchants. The modest menu of drinks
and food was composed mainly of Goldstar beer, Gold vodka and 777
Brandy, along with egg salad, chopped liver, ikra (a Romanian fish
roe dip) and chicken soup. But there were also days when friends
brought the sea-lovers rare bottles of single malt whiskey, choice
sausages and chunks of cheese, and the Haifa bar became famous far
and wide.
Miriam died in the mid-1990s after a battle with cancer, and her place
alongside Yosef was filled by their son, Gili. “On her deathbed Mom
said to me ‘Don’t leave Dad alone,’ and that created a commitment.
Within 10 days I liquidated my business in the United States, where I
had lived for almost six years and studied international economics and
finance, and returned to Israel. During the first two years I worked as
a cowboy on the Golan Heights; I needed time to deal with the blow of
her death, and then I came to work with Dad. The first time I took
him to the bank − Mom was also in charge of administration and
bookkeeping − he told me, ‘Listen, we can open a very nice pub
here.’” Since then the morning shift at the bar belongs to Yoske, and
Gili is in charge of the afternoon and evening shifts. The atmosphere
in the pub in the morning differs from that in the evening, but drinkers
enjoy themselves at any time of day.
Why we love the Anchor
Since childhood we have been fascinated by seamen. When we were
children we wanted to be sailors, or maybe professional drinkers, and
in the old books they seemed like synonyms. A lot of ink has been
spilled and a lot of research done about the connection between
seamen and alcoholic beverages. Some attribute this strong connection
to sailors’ meager diet in the Old World. In order to avoid stagnant
and moldy water, a source of infections and illnesses, the sailors used
to mix their drinking water with alcohol. Others believe that a tiny
daily alcohol ration was one of the only ways to sweeten the boring,
gloomy routine of months at sea. And there is no question that the joy
of standing on solid ground once the ship reached port led to a
glorious tradition of merrymaking in the pubs that were established on
the piers.
Even today, the Anchor fulfills those sweet promises. There are no one-
eyed sailors in evidence, nor a cage with a cursing parrot, or a captain
with a hook instead of a hand. But the collection of old medals, helms,
compasses and other original items will gladden the heart of the
romantic drinker. Sitting at the wood-paneled bar, especially during
the day, guarantees hours when you can forget the perils of a sinking
ship. There is no safer bar for alcohol tourists of the old school. You
can board the train in any of the isolated parts of the country served by
Israel Railways, get off at the station in downtown Haifa − a two-
minute walk from the bar in the lower city − nourish body and soul
with ale and the classic accompaniments to alcohol (a roast beef
sandwich, herring or grilled cheese) and return home glassy-eyed and
in a good mood.
Beer is his hobby
Name: The Anchor (Haogen) because of its proximity to the port and
the ships that anchor there
Address: 3 Sha’ar Palmer, Haifa
Owners: Yosef (Yoske) 84, and Gili Pincus, 46
Founded: 1942
The founders: Natan Meshi opened a cafe in the 1940s, where
alcoholic drinks were sold. Yosef and the late Miriam Pincus bought
the place in 1962 and turned it into a pub.
Along with the alcohol: pretzels
The barman’s drink: “Beer. Neither whiskey nor vodka. I drank my
first beer in 1945, after liberation from the camp and on the train that
took me from Munich to Paris. Since then I haven’t stopped. Beer is
my hobby,” say Yoske.
Famous customers: Captain Steve (the nickname of the Spanish
captain who helped bring illegal immigrants in the 1940s and
remained in Israel); Raful (Rafael Eitan, the late chief of staff and
politician. Says Yoske: “He didn’t drink much, but he would sit at the
captain’s table every Friday”). Former Israel Navy commander Eliezer
(Chiney) Marom (“Already in the days when he was a cadet. They
should be ashamed of the scandal they caused him over the strippers
incident. It’s an old sailors’ tradition. In the United States there’s a
striptease club next to the fence of every naval base”); Haifa Mayor
Yona Yahav (“He drinks shandy in moderation”).
Oldest customer: George, over 80, former chief engineer of the
merchant fleet. He used to drink “Cuba libre” (rum with cola), a
popular cocktail among the elderly
Unforgettable story about drunks: “David and Marco were a pair of
criminals who controlled the entire underworld in the Haifa district,”
says Gili. “Smuggling, drugs, prostitution, all the good stuff. Every
Friday they would open a large table in the pub for Kabbalat Shabbat
(to welcome Shabbat). I was a child, and they called me ‘Attorney
Binyamin,’ after a famous criminal lawyer at the time, and said I
would grow up to be a lawyer who would defend them in court.When
they began to drink it would go to their heads and they would start
fighting. Breaking plates, glasses, tables, window panes. Every week
the same story. I would ask Dad why he continued to let them in, until
I understood.
“On Sunday,” Gili continues, “one of them would come, pull cash out
of his pocket and ask, ‘Yoske, what’s the damage?’ He would pay
generously for the repairs, leave a tip for the waitress and go on his
way until the next Friday.”
The Haifa pub where you can go to forget your troubles
The Anchor pub in Haifa is now marking its 70th anniversary.
From Haaretz By Ronit Vered 01.11.12
It is a good place to forget your troubles – morning, noon or night
It’s 10 A.M. at The Anchor (Pub Haogen) in Haifa. In the evening the
staff will celebrate the bar’s 70th anniversary, but now, during the first
morning watch, it’s still quiet. An early patron, Leibele, sits at one of
the tables outside, as he does every morning. A former sailor, one of a
dwindling group of older seamen who made the pub their second
home, he drinks a shot of shandy in memory of the living and the
dead. Behind the wood-paneled bar stands Yosef (Yoske) Pincus, as he
has every day for the past 50 years. Wearing a bright red shirt, on his
bald head he sports a traditional Popeye-style sailor hat, adorned with
lots of pins and medals of honor. An unlit pipe dangles from the side
of his mouth, and around his neck he wears an attractive, elegantly
knotted kerchief. The kerchief always matches his shirt, and his
welcoming face is always quick to smile.
“In heaven there’s no beer, so we have to drink as much as possible
here,” says the elderly barman, pouring a glass and expounding his
philosophy to an incidental customer sitting at the bar. The entire
philosophy can be summed up in his translated version of a German
folk saying, on which regular customers base their lifestyle. As Yoske
and the beer drinkers begin to feel good, the conversation turns to old
memories.
On the walls of the bar, which has become a miniature museum of
private and national history, are hung pictures and souvenirs from its
owner’s turbulent life. Yoske was born in Bedzin (Bendin) in southern
Poland in 1928, and here is the first photograph of him as a boy, after
his liberation from the Dachau concentration camp. From a file of
documents he pulls out the French work permit granted to him when
he arrived in Paris from Munich to search for his sister.
From his reservoir of memories, the tale of a baker’s daughter and
hesitant young love suddenly emerges.
And proudly displayed on the wall opposite is a picture of the first ship
that became a home to him after the refugee camp in Marseilles.
“My real childhood is the merchant fleet,” he says. “I had a bed, a
sheet, food and money. What more does a person need? And I saw the
world. How big and beautiful the world is. I spent time in the bars of
Rotterdam and Havana – before Castro came to power – and I roamed
the streets of Hong Kong, Bangkok, Rio de Janeiro and New York.”
“Theodor Herzl,” “Komemiyut,” “Atzmaut,” “Negba,” and “Patria”
are names of ships that entered the Israeli pantheon; they were also
the names of ships on which Pincus served as a cook. “On one of the
first ships on which I sailed, Hannah the kibbutznik worked in the
kitchen,” he recalls. “She prepared very bad food. One day I couldn’t
stand the menu any more. I went into the kitchen and from the same
products and canned goods I prepared a rich meal − meat, potatoes
and vegetables. The captain tasted it, called me over and appointed me
cook.”
Another glass of beer and another outpouring of fragments of memory
and glorious adventures. Pincus swears that as a deck boy he
witnessed the historic conversation in which Albert Einstein turned
down Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion’s request that he serve as
president of the new state − and the patrons at the bar drink in his
words eagerly. On the high seas, the laws of Neptune prevail, but in a
sailors’ bar there are other rules − the more tall tales and stories of
heroism, the better. The daring seaman left the sea, inevitably, only
because of his beloved wife, Miriam. “Had it not been for my wife, I
would have had a sailor’s pension. She said, either me or the sea −
and I chose her.”
In the early 1960s Miriam and Yosef bought Natan Meshi’s Haifa
cafe, with its original name and reputation, and turned it into a
bustling seaport bar. In the days when all the merchandise in the State
of Israel passed through the port of Haifa, the area was full of
seamen, longshoremen and merchants. The modest menu of drinks
and food was composed mainly of Goldstar beer, Gold vodka and 777
Brandy, along with egg salad, chopped liver, ikra (a Romanian fish
roe dip) and chicken soup. But there were also days when friends
brought the sea-lovers rare bottles of single malt whiskey, choice
sausages and chunks of cheese, and the Haifa bar became famous far
and wide.
Miriam died in the mid-1990s after a battle with cancer, and her place
alongside Yosef was filled by their son, Gili. “On her deathbed Mom
said to me ‘Don’t leave Dad alone,’ and that created a commitment.
Within 10 days I liquidated my business in the United States, where I
had lived for almost six years and studied international economics and
finance, and returned to Israel. During the first two years I worked as
a cowboy on the Golan Heights; I needed time to deal with the blow of
her death, and then I came to work with Dad. The first time I took
him to the bank − Mom was also in charge of administration and
bookkeeping − he told me, ‘Listen, we can open a very nice pub
here.’” Since then the morning shift at the bar belongs to Yoske, and
Gili is in charge of the afternoon and evening shifts. The atmosphere
in the pub in the morning differs from that in the evening, but drinkers
enjoy themselves at any time of day.
Why we love the Anchor
Since childhood we have been fascinated by seamen. When we were
children we wanted to be sailors, or maybe professional drinkers, and
in the old books they seemed like synonyms. A lot of ink has been
spilled and a lot of research done about the connection between
seamen and alcoholic beverages. Some attribute this strong connection
to sailors’ meager diet in the Old World. In order to avoid stagnant
and moldy water, a source of infections and illnesses, the sailors used
to mix their drinking water with alcohol. Others believe that a tiny
daily alcohol ration was one of the only ways to sweeten the boring,
gloomy routine of months at sea. And there is no question that the joy
of standing on solid ground once the ship reached port led to a
glorious tradition of merrymaking in the pubs that were established on
the piers.
Even today, the Anchor fulfills those sweet promises. There are no one-
eyed sailors in evidence, nor a cage with a cursing parrot, or a captain
with a hook instead of a hand. But the collection of old medals, helms,
compasses and other original items will gladden the heart of the
romantic drinker. Sitting at the wood-paneled bar, especially during
the day, guarantees hours when you can forget the perils of a sinking
ship. There is no safer bar for alcohol tourists of the old school. You
can board the train in any of the isolated parts of the country served by
Israel Railways, get off at the station in downtown Haifa − a two-
minute walk from the bar in the lower city − nourish body and soul
with ale and the classic accompaniments to alcohol (a roast beef
sandwich, herring or grilled cheese) and return home glassy-eyed and
in a good mood.
Beer is his hobby
Name: The Anchor (Haogen) because of its proximity to the port and
the ships that anchor there
Address: 3 Sha’ar Palmer, Haifa
Owners: Yosef (Yoske) 84, and Gili Pincus, 46
Founded: 1942
The founders: Natan Meshi opened a cafe in the 1940s, where
alcoholic drinks were sold. Yosef and the late Miriam Pincus bought
the place in 1962 and turned it into a pub.
Along with the alcohol: pretzels
The barman’s drink: “Beer. Neither whiskey nor vodka. I drank my
first beer in 1945, after liberation from the camp and on the train that
took me from Munich to Paris. Since then I haven’t stopped. Beer is
my hobby,” say Yoske.
Famous customers: Captain Steve (the nickname of the Spanish
captain who helped bring illegal immigrants in the 1940s and
remained in Israel); Raful (Rafael Eitan, the late chief of staff and
politician. Says Yoske: “He didn’t drink much, but he would sit at the
captain’s table every Friday”). Former Israel Navy commander Eliezer
(Chiney) Marom (“Already in the days when he was a cadet. They
should be ashamed of the scandal they caused him over the strippers
incident. It’s an old sailors’ tradition. In the United States there’s a
striptease club next to the fence of every naval base”); Haifa Mayor
Yona Yahav (“He drinks shandy in moderation”).
Oldest customer: George, over 80, former chief engineer of the
merchant fleet. He used to drink “Cuba libre” (rum with cola), a
popular cocktail among the elderly
Unforgettable story about drunks: “David and Marco were a pair of
criminals who controlled the entire underworld in the Haifa district,”
says Gili. “Smuggling, drugs, prostitution, all the good stuff. Every
Friday they would open a large table in the pub for Kabbalat Shabbat
(to welcome Shabbat). I was a child, and they called me ‘Attorney
Binyamin,’ after a famous criminal lawyer at the time, and said I
would grow up to be a lawyer who would defend them in court.When
they began to drink it would go to their heads and they would start
fighting. Breaking plates, glasses, tables, window panes. Every week
the same story. I would ask Dad why he continued to let them in, until
I understood.
“On Sunday,” Gili continues, “one of them would come, pull cash out
of his pocket and ask, ‘Yoske, what’s the damage?’ He would pay
generously for the repairs, leave a tip for the waitress and go on his
way until the next Friday.”
Dans le port de Haïfa qui change rapidement, certains bars restent
bien ancrés
par Yuval Ben-Ami de Haaretz 8/8/12
Les établissements le long du port de Haïfa, dont plusieurs
regrettent beaucoup l’heure de gloire ou la marine était un
commerce plus commun en Israël, sont à la fois un rappel du
passé de la ville et une partie vitale de son présent. Mais certains
risquent d'être emportés par une vague de gentrification.
Haim Lamberger, un ancien marin, dirige la Habanera, le bar
favori des vieux loups de mer, une capsule du temps unique, près
des quais de Haïfa. Photo par Hagai Frid
«Quand ta mère avait 2 ans», explique Haïm à l'adolescent de 16
ans en face de lui de l’autre cote du bar, "elle naviguait avec moi
sur les navires, et elle voulait toujours boire la mousse de nos
verres à bière. Nous la laissions faire. "
Pendant de nombreuses années, Haim Lamberger était marin à
bord de la flotte d'Israël Zim. Aujourd'hui, il dirige la Habanera,
un bar aime des vieux loups de mer comme lui, et en même
temps une capsule de temps unique, sinon très polie, proche des
quais de Haïfa. Il parle à son petit-fils, Ronny, qui a grandi à New
York. Ronny a passé un mois d'été dans la ville natale de sa mère,
à verser de la bière et de l’arak aux sons de musique grecque,
sous un drapeau des confédérés que son grand-père a rapporté
d'un port de Louisiane. Grand-père, quant à lui, fumant sa pipe, et
revêtu de sa salopette standard en jean (mais pas de son chapeau
de cow-boy qu’il porte souvent), se souvient.
Ici, dans la ville basse de Haïfa, la partie sale de la ville à
proximité du port, se souvenir n'est pas toujours un passe-temps
heureux. «Tout le monde disparaît», déplore Lamberger. «La
génération est en déclin."
La marine a cessé d'être une profession de choix pour les
Israéliens dès le début des années quatre-vingt, lorsque la
compagnie nationale Zim a souffert d'une grave crise financière.
Aucune génération de gens de mer n’a émergé depuis, et les bars
des anciens dans le port sont peu à peu remplacés par des bars
plus branchés et plus jeunes pour les étudiants.
Séchée, mais pas oubliée
La Ville basse de Haïfa n’est pas seulement maritime d’esprit. Une
grande partie est littéralement construite sur la mer.
Historiquement, le littoral de la ville longeait ce qui est aujourd'hui
la rue de Jaffa, à environ 200 mètres de la rive actuelle. Tous les
terrains au Nord ont été récupérés lors de la construction du port
dans les années 1930. La "Dried-up Zone», comme on la connaît
aujourd'hui, a été rapidement recouverte de grands immeubles de
bureaux Bauhaus et d’une grande avenue, Haatsmaout, bordant
la côte moderne de Haïfa.
Pendant des décennies, ce fut le cœur du centre-ville. L'industrie
maritime locale était dirigée derrière les balcons du Bauhaus. "La
Porte n ° 5», qui s’ouvert de la ville au port, était la porte
principale de la Palestine mandataire et de la jeune Israël. Cette
porte alimentait également la crasse qui entoure chaque port:
prostitution, contrebande et trafic de drogue.
Au fil des ans, la porte s’fermée, les équipages des navires ont
diminué et les marins ont commencé à passer moins de temps
dans les ports en raison de l'efficacité des machines de chargement
modernes. Le quartier a succombé à la dégradation urbaine. Une
grande partie du complexe Bauhaus a sombré dans le chaos et
seules quelques petites entreprises ont survécu, parmi lesquels le
Café Shani modeste et attrayant.
Différents maires de Haïfa a fait de son mieux pour
embourgeoiser la zone asséchée et ses environs. L’actuel maire
Yona Yahav, qui y a fait rénover le pavage de plusieurs rues et a
initié un concert hebdomadaire en plein air les vendredis après-
midi, peut prétendre à une victoire sur le déclin urbain dans la
ville basse.
Mais la gentrification a ses propres périls. Les boîtes de nuit
autrefois célèbres de la rue HaNamal ont déjà succombé aux
nouvelles tendances, laissant place à plusieurs galeries et a un
magasin de cigares.
Certaines anciennes « auges » (bars !) ont été rénovées, devenant
de plus en plus polyvalentes et attirant des clients plus jeunes ainsi
que les anciens clients. Haogen ("L'ancre"), créée en 1942, est un
bel exemple. D'autres réussites de la zone asséchée sont Kalman et
HaSandak - celui-ci occupant une étrange structure qui servait
autrefois de lieu pour peser les conteneurs.
Alors que l’abilite de ces entreprises à s'adapter maintient la zone
vivante la nuit, des lieux plus rustiques comme Habanera, nommé
d'après un bordel d’Anvers, risquent d'être hors de prix pour le
quartier, et de ne pas seulement déplacer l'odeur de tabac à pipe et
d’authentiques souvenirs de marins, mais de les envoyer à jamais
dans l'oubli. Ces lieux sont si lies à leur emplacement historico-
géographique que leur réinstallation serait impensable.
Pièces de puzzles, anciens et nouveaux
Un ancien établissement unique du quartier est en plein essor en
dépit de toutes les nouvelles tendances. Maayan Habira ("La
fontaine de bière"), plus restaurant que bar, une taverne
pittoresque qui se spécialise dans l’art culinaire de l'Est européen,
mais offre également une variété de bières belges et autres bières
importées. En réunissant l'amour de la bonne bière, une tendance
assez récente dans la culture israélienne, avec de vieux plats
cuisines, Maayan Habira l’emporte confortablement.
La plupart du temps, Maayan Habira ferme dès 18 :00 de même
que la Habanera, mais le mardi en été, il reste ouvert le soir. Les
tables sont installées dans la rue et un groupe de rock joue pour le
plaisir de tous. Le groupe est nommé d'après le plat de base de
Maayan Habira: la kostita, des côtes de porc fumé de style
roumain, même si dans la foule mixte ceux qui mangent casher
évitent la kostita en faveur du poisson Gefilte Fish.
Peut-être la création d'une combinaison d'éléments divers, jeunes
et vieux, locaux et étrangers, est la clé de la survie sur ce terrain.
Haïfa a toujours été une ville de combinaison: Juifs et Arabes, mer
et montagne, pentes boisées et raffineries de pétrole. Les vieux
bars sont un morceau de ce puzzle: pas seulement des rappels du
passé de la ville, mais aussi des composants vitaux de son présent.
bien ancrés
par Yuval Ben-Ami de Haaretz 8/8/12
Les établissements le long du port de Haïfa, dont plusieurs
regrettent beaucoup l’heure de gloire ou la marine était un
commerce plus commun en Israël, sont à la fois un rappel du
passé de la ville et une partie vitale de son présent. Mais certains
risquent d'être emportés par une vague de gentrification.
Haim Lamberger, un ancien marin, dirige la Habanera, le bar
favori des vieux loups de mer, une capsule du temps unique, près
des quais de Haïfa. Photo par Hagai Frid
«Quand ta mère avait 2 ans», explique Haïm à l'adolescent de 16
ans en face de lui de l’autre cote du bar, "elle naviguait avec moi
sur les navires, et elle voulait toujours boire la mousse de nos
verres à bière. Nous la laissions faire. "
Pendant de nombreuses années, Haim Lamberger était marin à
bord de la flotte d'Israël Zim. Aujourd'hui, il dirige la Habanera,
un bar aime des vieux loups de mer comme lui, et en même
temps une capsule de temps unique, sinon très polie, proche des
quais de Haïfa. Il parle à son petit-fils, Ronny, qui a grandi à New
York. Ronny a passé un mois d'été dans la ville natale de sa mère,
à verser de la bière et de l’arak aux sons de musique grecque,
sous un drapeau des confédérés que son grand-père a rapporté
d'un port de Louisiane. Grand-père, quant à lui, fumant sa pipe, et
revêtu de sa salopette standard en jean (mais pas de son chapeau
de cow-boy qu’il porte souvent), se souvient.
Ici, dans la ville basse de Haïfa, la partie sale de la ville à
proximité du port, se souvenir n'est pas toujours un passe-temps
heureux. «Tout le monde disparaît», déplore Lamberger. «La
génération est en déclin."
La marine a cessé d'être une profession de choix pour les
Israéliens dès le début des années quatre-vingt, lorsque la
compagnie nationale Zim a souffert d'une grave crise financière.
Aucune génération de gens de mer n’a émergé depuis, et les bars
des anciens dans le port sont peu à peu remplacés par des bars
plus branchés et plus jeunes pour les étudiants.
Séchée, mais pas oubliée
La Ville basse de Haïfa n’est pas seulement maritime d’esprit. Une
grande partie est littéralement construite sur la mer.
Historiquement, le littoral de la ville longeait ce qui est aujourd'hui
la rue de Jaffa, à environ 200 mètres de la rive actuelle. Tous les
terrains au Nord ont été récupérés lors de la construction du port
dans les années 1930. La "Dried-up Zone», comme on la connaît
aujourd'hui, a été rapidement recouverte de grands immeubles de
bureaux Bauhaus et d’une grande avenue, Haatsmaout, bordant
la côte moderne de Haïfa.
Pendant des décennies, ce fut le cœur du centre-ville. L'industrie
maritime locale était dirigée derrière les balcons du Bauhaus. "La
Porte n ° 5», qui s’ouvert de la ville au port, était la porte
principale de la Palestine mandataire et de la jeune Israël. Cette
porte alimentait également la crasse qui entoure chaque port:
prostitution, contrebande et trafic de drogue.
Au fil des ans, la porte s’fermée, les équipages des navires ont
diminué et les marins ont commencé à passer moins de temps
dans les ports en raison de l'efficacité des machines de chargement
modernes. Le quartier a succombé à la dégradation urbaine. Une
grande partie du complexe Bauhaus a sombré dans le chaos et
seules quelques petites entreprises ont survécu, parmi lesquels le
Café Shani modeste et attrayant.
Différents maires de Haïfa a fait de son mieux pour
embourgeoiser la zone asséchée et ses environs. L’actuel maire
Yona Yahav, qui y a fait rénover le pavage de plusieurs rues et a
initié un concert hebdomadaire en plein air les vendredis après-
midi, peut prétendre à une victoire sur le déclin urbain dans la
ville basse.
Mais la gentrification a ses propres périls. Les boîtes de nuit
autrefois célèbres de la rue HaNamal ont déjà succombé aux
nouvelles tendances, laissant place à plusieurs galeries et a un
magasin de cigares.
Certaines anciennes « auges » (bars !) ont été rénovées, devenant
de plus en plus polyvalentes et attirant des clients plus jeunes ainsi
que les anciens clients. Haogen ("L'ancre"), créée en 1942, est un
bel exemple. D'autres réussites de la zone asséchée sont Kalman et
HaSandak - celui-ci occupant une étrange structure qui servait
autrefois de lieu pour peser les conteneurs.
Alors que l’abilite de ces entreprises à s'adapter maintient la zone
vivante la nuit, des lieux plus rustiques comme Habanera, nommé
d'après un bordel d’Anvers, risquent d'être hors de prix pour le
quartier, et de ne pas seulement déplacer l'odeur de tabac à pipe et
d’authentiques souvenirs de marins, mais de les envoyer à jamais
dans l'oubli. Ces lieux sont si lies à leur emplacement historico-
géographique que leur réinstallation serait impensable.
Pièces de puzzles, anciens et nouveaux
Un ancien établissement unique du quartier est en plein essor en
dépit de toutes les nouvelles tendances. Maayan Habira ("La
fontaine de bière"), plus restaurant que bar, une taverne
pittoresque qui se spécialise dans l’art culinaire de l'Est européen,
mais offre également une variété de bières belges et autres bières
importées. En réunissant l'amour de la bonne bière, une tendance
assez récente dans la culture israélienne, avec de vieux plats
cuisines, Maayan Habira l’emporte confortablement.
La plupart du temps, Maayan Habira ferme dès 18 :00 de même
que la Habanera, mais le mardi en été, il reste ouvert le soir. Les
tables sont installées dans la rue et un groupe de rock joue pour le
plaisir de tous. Le groupe est nommé d'après le plat de base de
Maayan Habira: la kostita, des côtes de porc fumé de style
roumain, même si dans la foule mixte ceux qui mangent casher
évitent la kostita en faveur du poisson Gefilte Fish.
Peut-être la création d'une combinaison d'éléments divers, jeunes
et vieux, locaux et étrangers, est la clé de la survie sur ce terrain.
Haïfa a toujours été une ville de combinaison: Juifs et Arabes, mer
et montagne, pentes boisées et raffineries de pétrole. Les vieux
bars sont un morceau de ce puzzle: pas seulement des rappels du
passé de la ville, mais aussi des composants vitaux de son présent.
In Haifa’s swiftly changing port, some bars keep their anchors
firmly planted
by Yuval Ben-Ami, from Haaretz 8/8/12
The establishments along Haifa’s port, many harking from its
heyday when seafaring was a more common trade in Israel, are
both a reminder of the city’s past and a vital part of its present. But
some are at risk of being swept away in a wave of gentrification.
Chaim Lamberger, a former seaman, runs the Habanera, a bar
favored by old sea hounds that serves as a unique time capsule
near Haifa's docks. Photo by Hagai Frid
"When your mother was 2 years old," says Chaim over the bar to
the 16-year-old boy facing him, "she would sail with me in the
ships, and she always wanted to drink the foam from our beer
glasses. We let her, too."
For many years, Chaim Lamberger was a seaman aboard Israel's
"Zim" fleet. Today he runs the Habanera, a bar favored by old sea
hounds like himself, that doubles as a unique, if not very polished,
time capsule near Haifa's docks. He is speaking to his grandson,
Ronny, who grew up in New York. Ronny is spending a summer
month in his mother's native city, pouring arak and draft beer to
the sounds of Greek music, under a Confederate flag his
grandfather brought from a port in Louisiana. Grandpa,
meanwhile, is smoking his pipe, wearing his standard denim
overalls (but not the cowboy hat he often sports), and reminiscing.
Here, in Haifa's Lower City, the grungy part of town adjacent to
the port, reminiscing isn't always a happy pastime. "Everyone's
vanishing," Lamberger laments. "The generation is waning.”
Seafaring ceased being an accepted profession of choice among
Israelis as early as the eighties, when the national shipping
company Zim suffered a severe financial crisis. No generation of
seafarers has emerged since, and the old-timer bars by the port are
slowly being replaced by hipper, younger venues catering to
students.
Dried up but not forgotten
Haifa's Lower City isn't only maritime in spirit. Much of it is
literally built on the sea floor. Historically, the city's shoreline ran
along what today is Jaffa Street, about 200 yards inland of the
current shore. All the land to the north was reclaimed during the
construction of the port in the 1930s. The "Dried-up Zone," as it is
known today, was quickly covered with large-scale Bauhaus office
buildings and a major avenue, Ha'atzmaut, skirting modern
Haifa's coastline.
For decades, this was the very heart of downtown. The local
shipping industry was run behind the Bauhaus balconies. "Gate
#5," which opened from the city to the port, was the main gate of
both mandatory Palestine and young Israel. This gate also fed the
grit that surrounds every port: prostitution, smuggling and a drug
trade.
Over the years, the gate was closed, ship crews dwindled in size
and sailors began spending less and less time at ports due to the
efficiency of modern loading machinery. The neighborhood
succumbed to urban decay. Much of the Bauhaus complex fell
into disarray and only a few small businesses survived, among
them the modest and attractive Café Shani.
Pub Habanera, named after an Antwerp brothel, risks being priced
out of the neighborhood.
Haifa's various mayors did their best to gentrify the Dried-up Zone
and its environs. Current mayor Yona Yahav, who saw the
repaving of several streets and initiated a weekly outdoor concert to
take place in the zone every Friday afternoon, can claim a victory
on urban decay in the Lower City.
But gentrification has its own perils. The once famous nightclubs
of HaNamal St. have already succumbed to new trends, giving way
to several galleries and a cigar shop.
Some old watering holes have undergone renovations, becoming
more versatile and luring younger as well as older clientele.
Haogen ("The anchor"), established 1942, is a fine example.
Other success stories of the Dried-up Zone are Kalman's and
Hasandak - the latter occupying a strange structure that once
served as a scale for weighing shipping containers.
While these businesses' ability to adapt keeps the zone alive at
night, more rustic spots such as Habanera, named after an
Antwerp brothel, risk being priced out of the neighborhood, not
just relocating the smell of pipe tobacco and authentic seafaring
souvenirs but sending them into oblivion. Such places draw so
strongly on their historical-geographical location that relocating
them would be unthinkable.
Puzzle pieces, old and new
One unique older establishment in the neighborhood is going
strong despite all the new trends. Maayan Habira ("The fountain
of beer"), more restaurant than bar, is a quaint tavern that
specializes in Eastern European culinaria, but also offers a variety
of fine Belgian ales and other imported beers. By bringing together
the love of good beer, a fairly recent trend in Israeli culture, with
old fashioned dishes, Maayan Habira comfortably prevails.
On most days, Maayan Habira closes as early as 6:00 p.m. as does
the Habanera, but on Tuesdays in the summer it remains open in
the evenings. Tables are set in the street and a rock band plays to
everybody's delight. The band is named after the Maayan Habira's
staple dish: kostita, or Romanian-style smoked pork ribs, though
the mixed crowd also features kosher eaters who shun kostita in
favor of Gefilte fish.
Perhaps creating a combination of various elements, young and
old, local and foreign, is the key to survival in this terrain. Haifa
has always been a city of combination: Jewish and Arab,
mountain and sea, forested slopes and oil refineries. The old bars
are a piece of its puzzle: not merely reminders of the city's past,
but also vital components of its present.
firmly planted
by Yuval Ben-Ami, from Haaretz 8/8/12
The establishments along Haifa’s port, many harking from its
heyday when seafaring was a more common trade in Israel, are
both a reminder of the city’s past and a vital part of its present. But
some are at risk of being swept away in a wave of gentrification.
Chaim Lamberger, a former seaman, runs the Habanera, a bar
favored by old sea hounds that serves as a unique time capsule
near Haifa's docks. Photo by Hagai Frid
"When your mother was 2 years old," says Chaim over the bar to
the 16-year-old boy facing him, "she would sail with me in the
ships, and she always wanted to drink the foam from our beer
glasses. We let her, too."
For many years, Chaim Lamberger was a seaman aboard Israel's
"Zim" fleet. Today he runs the Habanera, a bar favored by old sea
hounds like himself, that doubles as a unique, if not very polished,
time capsule near Haifa's docks. He is speaking to his grandson,
Ronny, who grew up in New York. Ronny is spending a summer
month in his mother's native city, pouring arak and draft beer to
the sounds of Greek music, under a Confederate flag his
grandfather brought from a port in Louisiana. Grandpa,
meanwhile, is smoking his pipe, wearing his standard denim
overalls (but not the cowboy hat he often sports), and reminiscing.
Here, in Haifa's Lower City, the grungy part of town adjacent to
the port, reminiscing isn't always a happy pastime. "Everyone's
vanishing," Lamberger laments. "The generation is waning.”
Seafaring ceased being an accepted profession of choice among
Israelis as early as the eighties, when the national shipping
company Zim suffered a severe financial crisis. No generation of
seafarers has emerged since, and the old-timer bars by the port are
slowly being replaced by hipper, younger venues catering to
students.
Dried up but not forgotten
Haifa's Lower City isn't only maritime in spirit. Much of it is
literally built on the sea floor. Historically, the city's shoreline ran
along what today is Jaffa Street, about 200 yards inland of the
current shore. All the land to the north was reclaimed during the
construction of the port in the 1930s. The "Dried-up Zone," as it is
known today, was quickly covered with large-scale Bauhaus office
buildings and a major avenue, Ha'atzmaut, skirting modern
Haifa's coastline.
For decades, this was the very heart of downtown. The local
shipping industry was run behind the Bauhaus balconies. "Gate
#5," which opened from the city to the port, was the main gate of
both mandatory Palestine and young Israel. This gate also fed the
grit that surrounds every port: prostitution, smuggling and a drug
trade.
Over the years, the gate was closed, ship crews dwindled in size
and sailors began spending less and less time at ports due to the
efficiency of modern loading machinery. The neighborhood
succumbed to urban decay. Much of the Bauhaus complex fell
into disarray and only a few small businesses survived, among
them the modest and attractive Café Shani.
Pub Habanera, named after an Antwerp brothel, risks being priced
out of the neighborhood.
Haifa's various mayors did their best to gentrify the Dried-up Zone
and its environs. Current mayor Yona Yahav, who saw the
repaving of several streets and initiated a weekly outdoor concert to
take place in the zone every Friday afternoon, can claim a victory
on urban decay in the Lower City.
But gentrification has its own perils. The once famous nightclubs
of HaNamal St. have already succumbed to new trends, giving way
to several galleries and a cigar shop.
Some old watering holes have undergone renovations, becoming
more versatile and luring younger as well as older clientele.
Haogen ("The anchor"), established 1942, is a fine example.
Other success stories of the Dried-up Zone are Kalman's and
Hasandak - the latter occupying a strange structure that once
served as a scale for weighing shipping containers.
While these businesses' ability to adapt keeps the zone alive at
night, more rustic spots such as Habanera, named after an
Antwerp brothel, risk being priced out of the neighborhood, not
just relocating the smell of pipe tobacco and authentic seafaring
souvenirs but sending them into oblivion. Such places draw so
strongly on their historical-geographical location that relocating
them would be unthinkable.
Puzzle pieces, old and new
One unique older establishment in the neighborhood is going
strong despite all the new trends. Maayan Habira ("The fountain
of beer"), more restaurant than bar, is a quaint tavern that
specializes in Eastern European culinaria, but also offers a variety
of fine Belgian ales and other imported beers. By bringing together
the love of good beer, a fairly recent trend in Israeli culture, with
old fashioned dishes, Maayan Habira comfortably prevails.
On most days, Maayan Habira closes as early as 6:00 p.m. as does
the Habanera, but on Tuesdays in the summer it remains open in
the evenings. Tables are set in the street and a rock band plays to
everybody's delight. The band is named after the Maayan Habira's
staple dish: kostita, or Romanian-style smoked pork ribs, though
the mixed crowd also features kosher eaters who shun kostita in
favor of Gefilte fish.
Perhaps creating a combination of various elements, young and
old, local and foreign, is the key to survival in this terrain. Haifa
has always been a city of combination: Jewish and Arab,
mountain and sea, forested slopes and oil refineries. The old bars
are a piece of its puzzle: not merely reminders of the city's past,
but also vital components of its present.
Climbing up to Haifa s lower city
Haifa's 'Compound 21,' intended to return businesses and art to the port
area, is drawing local designers. But others too, who worked in Tel Aviv,
are moving in hope that Haifa will become fashion-friendly.
by Shachar Atwan from Haaretz 10/6/13
The role filled by Israeli malls, which provided a formidable shopping
experience in the 1990s, has been usurped in recent years by independent
fashion compounds. Unlike the malls, these fashion centers are consumer
spaces created by store owners within a cluster of nearby streets that bustle
with the creativity and young spirit of entrepreneurship, and allow people
to discover small and original boutiques.
The "Compound 21" complex in Haifa was officially inaugurated this
month. Haifa municipality initiated and promoted the project, meant to
resurrect the business activities in the lower part of the city down by the
port area, and to encourage original local artists. Out of the 160 artists and
designers who applied to be part of the project, 21 succeeded in receiving a
space for work and sales in the lower city – without paying rent for the
first two years and with an option to extend their use of the space for
another two years.
"The goal is for these business owners to establish themselves, and that is
why we also are providing them with business advice and support," said
Tzahi Terno, director of Haifa's municipality's spokesperson's department.
"The vision is to return the lower city to central role it had in the middle of
the last century."
A pink path marked on the sidewalks in the lower city connects the foci of
the complex. The path is drawn between the workspaces of artists,
photography studios and recording studios used by well-known local
musicians such as Assaf Amdursky and Micha Shitrit. The New&Bad
Gallery, which Natalie Levin opened in 2007 in Tel Aviv, moved its
operations to the area and in its first exhibition that is now opening three
artists are participating: Elisheva Levy, Tamar Hirschfeld and Len
Buchman.
Young designers living in the region are being given a chance to establish
themselves professionally, without being forced to move their lives to Tel
Aviv. Two of them are Nirit Damari and Lir Stern, both fresh graduates of
Haifa’s Wizo Academy of Design’s department of fashion design. The two
women are launching their first space.
Among the designers working in the compound are quite a few who started
their careers in Tel Aviv and returned to the north. Before opening his
studio in one of the alleyways of the Turkish market, jewelry designer Uri
Unger had a studio and store in the Gan Hahashmal area in south Tel
Aviv, until, in his words, Tel Aviv strangled him.
"To find space there was really not so simple and since I am originally
from Haifa it was like returning home," he said.
Not far from Unger, Hila Shemesh opened Alt Neu Made. She started off
selling second-hand clothes in Jaffa and now is presenting vintage second-
hand clothing that she repairs and updates in her new store – as well as a
first collection of her own designs. She is planning to move to live in Haifa
soon.
The desire to leave the bustling center of activity in Tel Aviv is refreshing
and should not necessarily be taken for granted. For years, the accepted
idea was that in order to survive in the design business, designers must
operate in Tel Aviv since that is where the hard core of the customer
community is.
The accessories designer Adi Kilav, who has a store in Compound 21 in
addition to his two other stores in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, was happy to
dispel the myth: "Tel Aviv [people] are difficult. They have a larger supply
and variety, but that's not all that is involved," said Kilav.
He added that he would be committing the sin of generalizing, but
nonetheless that people are less supportive and caring in Tel Aviv – and in
Haifa he thinks they will love them.
The essence of Compound 21 in Haifa is in its tolerance that enables the
activities of original designers, who would probably not have found a way
to exist in the pressing economic reality in Tel Aviv. Take, for example,
Claudia Manokian, a textile designer. All the pieces in her shop – from
coasters for coffee cups to glasses cases, and up to dresses, bags, scarves
and lighting fixtures – are all made of felt.
Or take Miki Ohana, who sews delightful dolls for children and adults; or
the Tezi Teza studio at the southwestern edge of the complex, which
combines a broad range of Ethiopian arts in a single space.
Haifa's 'Compound 21,' intended to return businesses and art to the port
area, is drawing local designers. But others too, who worked in Tel Aviv,
are moving in hope that Haifa will become fashion-friendly.
by Shachar Atwan from Haaretz 10/6/13
The role filled by Israeli malls, which provided a formidable shopping
experience in the 1990s, has been usurped in recent years by independent
fashion compounds. Unlike the malls, these fashion centers are consumer
spaces created by store owners within a cluster of nearby streets that bustle
with the creativity and young spirit of entrepreneurship, and allow people
to discover small and original boutiques.
The "Compound 21" complex in Haifa was officially inaugurated this
month. Haifa municipality initiated and promoted the project, meant to
resurrect the business activities in the lower part of the city down by the
port area, and to encourage original local artists. Out of the 160 artists and
designers who applied to be part of the project, 21 succeeded in receiving a
space for work and sales in the lower city – without paying rent for the
first two years and with an option to extend their use of the space for
another two years.
"The goal is for these business owners to establish themselves, and that is
why we also are providing them with business advice and support," said
Tzahi Terno, director of Haifa's municipality's spokesperson's department.
"The vision is to return the lower city to central role it had in the middle of
the last century."
A pink path marked on the sidewalks in the lower city connects the foci of
the complex. The path is drawn between the workspaces of artists,
photography studios and recording studios used by well-known local
musicians such as Assaf Amdursky and Micha Shitrit. The New&Bad
Gallery, which Natalie Levin opened in 2007 in Tel Aviv, moved its
operations to the area and in its first exhibition that is now opening three
artists are participating: Elisheva Levy, Tamar Hirschfeld and Len
Buchman.
Young designers living in the region are being given a chance to establish
themselves professionally, without being forced to move their lives to Tel
Aviv. Two of them are Nirit Damari and Lir Stern, both fresh graduates of
Haifa’s Wizo Academy of Design’s department of fashion design. The two
women are launching their first space.
Among the designers working in the compound are quite a few who started
their careers in Tel Aviv and returned to the north. Before opening his
studio in one of the alleyways of the Turkish market, jewelry designer Uri
Unger had a studio and store in the Gan Hahashmal area in south Tel
Aviv, until, in his words, Tel Aviv strangled him.
"To find space there was really not so simple and since I am originally
from Haifa it was like returning home," he said.
Not far from Unger, Hila Shemesh opened Alt Neu Made. She started off
selling second-hand clothes in Jaffa and now is presenting vintage second-
hand clothing that she repairs and updates in her new store – as well as a
first collection of her own designs. She is planning to move to live in Haifa
soon.
The desire to leave the bustling center of activity in Tel Aviv is refreshing
and should not necessarily be taken for granted. For years, the accepted
idea was that in order to survive in the design business, designers must
operate in Tel Aviv since that is where the hard core of the customer
community is.
The accessories designer Adi Kilav, who has a store in Compound 21 in
addition to his two other stores in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, was happy to
dispel the myth: "Tel Aviv [people] are difficult. They have a larger supply
and variety, but that's not all that is involved," said Kilav.
He added that he would be committing the sin of generalizing, but
nonetheless that people are less supportive and caring in Tel Aviv – and in
Haifa he thinks they will love them.
The essence of Compound 21 in Haifa is in its tolerance that enables the
activities of original designers, who would probably not have found a way
to exist in the pressing economic reality in Tel Aviv. Take, for example,
Claudia Manokian, a textile designer. All the pieces in her shop – from
coasters for coffee cups to glasses cases, and up to dresses, bags, scarves
and lighting fixtures – are all made of felt.
Or take Miki Ohana, who sews delightful dolls for children and adults; or
the Tezi Teza studio at the southwestern edge of the complex, which
combines a broad range of Ethiopian arts in a single space.
Grimper à la ville basse de Haïfa
de Haaretz, par Shachar Atwan 10/6/13
L’espace 21 (Mitram 21) visant a faire revenir commerce et art à la
zone portuaire, attire des designers locaux. Mais d'autres aussi, qui
ont travaillé à Tel Aviv, se déplacent dans l'espoir que Haifa
deviendra plus convivial pour la mode.
Le rôle rempli par les centres commerciaux israéliens, qui ont fourni
une expérience de consommation formidable dans les années 1990, a
été usurpé ces dernières années par des espaces de mode
indépendantes. Contrairement aux centres commerciaux, les centres
de mode sont des espaces de consommation créées par les
propriétaires de magasins au sein d'un groupe de rues à proximité
pleines de la créativité et d’un esprit d'entreprise jeune, qui
permettent aux gens de découvrir de petites boutiques originales.
Le complexe "Compound 21" à Haïfa a été officiellement inauguré
ce mois-ci. La Municipalité de Haïfa a initié et promu le projet,
destiné à ressusciter les activités commerciales dans la partie basse
de la ville dans le quartier du port, et à encourager les artistes locaux
originaux. Parmi les 160 artistes et designers qui ont demandé à
faire partie du projet, 21 ont réussi à obtenir un espace de travail et
de vente dans la ville basse - sans payer de loyer pour les deux
premières années et avec la possibilité de prolonger leur utilisation
de l'espace pour deux années supplémentaires.
«L'objectif est pour ces propriétaires d'entreprise de s’établir, et c'est
pourquoi nous leur fournissons des conseils d'entreprise et de
soutien», a déclaré Tzahi Terno, directeur du département des porte-
parole de la municipalité de Haïfa. "L'idée est de redonner à la ville
basse le rôle central qu'elle avait au milieu du siècle dernier."
Un chemin rose marquée sur les trottoirs de la ville basse relie les
foyers du complexe. La voie est tracée entre les espaces de travail des
artistes, des studios de photographie et des studios d'enregistrement
utilisés par des musiciens locaux bien connus tels que Assaf
Amdursky et Micha Shitrit. La New & Bad Gallery, qui Natalie
Levin a ouverte en 2007 à Tel Aviv, a déménagé ses opérations dans
le quartier et trois artistes participent la première exposition qui
s'ouvre maintenant: Elisheva Levy, Tamar Hirschfeld et Len
Buchman.
Les jeunes designers qui vivent dans la région se voient offrir une
chance de s'établir professionnellement, sans être obligés de passer
leur vie à Tel-Aviv. Deux d'entre eux sont Nirit Damari et Lir Stern,
deux jeunes diplômées du département de mode de l’Académie Wizo
de design de Haïfa. Les deux femmes lancent leur premier espace.
Parmi les designers qui travaillent dans le complexe plusieurs ont
commencé leur carrière à Tel Aviv et sont retournés vers le Nord.
Avant d'ouvrir son atelier dans l'une des ruelles du marché Turc, le
créateure de bijoux Uri Unger avait un atelier et un magasin dans la
région de Gan HaHashmal au sud de Tel-Aviv, jusqu'à ce que, selon
ses propres termes, Tel Aviv l'ait étranglé.
"Trouver de l'espace n’était vraiment pas si simple et puisque je suis
originaire de Haïfa c'était comme revenir à la maison", dit-il.
Non loin de Unger, Hila Shemesh ouvert Alt Neu Made. Elle a
commencé à vendre des vêtements d’occasion à Jaffa et elle
présente maintenant des vêtements vintage qu'elle répare et met à
jour dans sa nouvelle boutique - ainsi qu'un premier recueil de ses
propres dessins. Elle prévoit de déménager pour vivre à Haïfa bientôt.
Le désir de quitter le centre animé d'activité à Tel-Aviv est
rafraîchissant et ne doit pas nécessairement être pris pour acquis.
Pendant des années, l'idée reçue était que pour survivre dans le
domaine du design, les concepteurs doivent travailler à Tel Aviv
puisque c'est là que le noyau dur de la à la clientèle se trouve.
Le designer d'accessoires Adi Kilav, qui a un magasin dans l’espace
21 en plus de ses deux autres magasins à Tel Aviv et à Jérusalem,
était heureux de dissiper le mythe: «A Tel-Aviv [les gens] sont
difficiles Ils ont une plus grande quantité et variété, mais ce n'est
pas seulement cela qui compte", a déclaré Kilav.
Il a ajouté que ce serait commettre un péché de généraliser, mais que
tout de même les gens sont moins favorables et bienveillants à Tel-
Aviv - et il pense qu'ils vont aimer les designes à Haïfa.
L'essence du composé 21 à Haïfa est sa tolérance qui permet les
activités de concepteurs originaux, qui n'auraient probablement pas
trouvé un moyen d'exister dans la réalité économique de Tel Aviv.
Prenez, par exemple, Claudia Manokian, une designer de textile.
Toutes les pièces de son magasin - de sous-verres pour des tasses à
café aux étuis à lunettes, et jusqu'à robes, sacs, foulards et
luminaires - sont toutes faites de feutre.
Ou Miki Ohana, qui coud des poupées délicieuses pour les enfants et
les adultes, ou le studio Tezi Teza à l'extrémité sud-ouest du
complexe, qui combine un large éventail d'arts éthiopiens en un seul
espace.
de Haaretz, par Shachar Atwan 10/6/13
L’espace 21 (Mitram 21) visant a faire revenir commerce et art à la
zone portuaire, attire des designers locaux. Mais d'autres aussi, qui
ont travaillé à Tel Aviv, se déplacent dans l'espoir que Haifa
deviendra plus convivial pour la mode.
Le rôle rempli par les centres commerciaux israéliens, qui ont fourni
une expérience de consommation formidable dans les années 1990, a
été usurpé ces dernières années par des espaces de mode
indépendantes. Contrairement aux centres commerciaux, les centres
de mode sont des espaces de consommation créées par les
propriétaires de magasins au sein d'un groupe de rues à proximité
pleines de la créativité et d’un esprit d'entreprise jeune, qui
permettent aux gens de découvrir de petites boutiques originales.
Le complexe "Compound 21" à Haïfa a été officiellement inauguré
ce mois-ci. La Municipalité de Haïfa a initié et promu le projet,
destiné à ressusciter les activités commerciales dans la partie basse
de la ville dans le quartier du port, et à encourager les artistes locaux
originaux. Parmi les 160 artistes et designers qui ont demandé à
faire partie du projet, 21 ont réussi à obtenir un espace de travail et
de vente dans la ville basse - sans payer de loyer pour les deux
premières années et avec la possibilité de prolonger leur utilisation
de l'espace pour deux années supplémentaires.
«L'objectif est pour ces propriétaires d'entreprise de s’établir, et c'est
pourquoi nous leur fournissons des conseils d'entreprise et de
soutien», a déclaré Tzahi Terno, directeur du département des porte-
parole de la municipalité de Haïfa. "L'idée est de redonner à la ville
basse le rôle central qu'elle avait au milieu du siècle dernier."
Un chemin rose marquée sur les trottoirs de la ville basse relie les
foyers du complexe. La voie est tracée entre les espaces de travail des
artistes, des studios de photographie et des studios d'enregistrement
utilisés par des musiciens locaux bien connus tels que Assaf
Amdursky et Micha Shitrit. La New & Bad Gallery, qui Natalie
Levin a ouverte en 2007 à Tel Aviv, a déménagé ses opérations dans
le quartier et trois artistes participent la première exposition qui
s'ouvre maintenant: Elisheva Levy, Tamar Hirschfeld et Len
Buchman.
Les jeunes designers qui vivent dans la région se voient offrir une
chance de s'établir professionnellement, sans être obligés de passer
leur vie à Tel-Aviv. Deux d'entre eux sont Nirit Damari et Lir Stern,
deux jeunes diplômées du département de mode de l’Académie Wizo
de design de Haïfa. Les deux femmes lancent leur premier espace.
Parmi les designers qui travaillent dans le complexe plusieurs ont
commencé leur carrière à Tel Aviv et sont retournés vers le Nord.
Avant d'ouvrir son atelier dans l'une des ruelles du marché Turc, le
créateure de bijoux Uri Unger avait un atelier et un magasin dans la
région de Gan HaHashmal au sud de Tel-Aviv, jusqu'à ce que, selon
ses propres termes, Tel Aviv l'ait étranglé.
"Trouver de l'espace n’était vraiment pas si simple et puisque je suis
originaire de Haïfa c'était comme revenir à la maison", dit-il.
Non loin de Unger, Hila Shemesh ouvert Alt Neu Made. Elle a
commencé à vendre des vêtements d’occasion à Jaffa et elle
présente maintenant des vêtements vintage qu'elle répare et met à
jour dans sa nouvelle boutique - ainsi qu'un premier recueil de ses
propres dessins. Elle prévoit de déménager pour vivre à Haïfa bientôt.
Le désir de quitter le centre animé d'activité à Tel-Aviv est
rafraîchissant et ne doit pas nécessairement être pris pour acquis.
Pendant des années, l'idée reçue était que pour survivre dans le
domaine du design, les concepteurs doivent travailler à Tel Aviv
puisque c'est là que le noyau dur de la à la clientèle se trouve.
Le designer d'accessoires Adi Kilav, qui a un magasin dans l’espace
21 en plus de ses deux autres magasins à Tel Aviv et à Jérusalem,
était heureux de dissiper le mythe: «A Tel-Aviv [les gens] sont
difficiles Ils ont une plus grande quantité et variété, mais ce n'est
pas seulement cela qui compte", a déclaré Kilav.
Il a ajouté que ce serait commettre un péché de généraliser, mais que
tout de même les gens sont moins favorables et bienveillants à Tel-
Aviv - et il pense qu'ils vont aimer les designes à Haïfa.
L'essence du composé 21 à Haïfa est sa tolérance qui permet les
activités de concepteurs originaux, qui n'auraient probablement pas
trouvé un moyen d'exister dans la réalité économique de Tel Aviv.
Prenez, par exemple, Claudia Manokian, une designer de textile.
Toutes les pièces de son magasin - de sous-verres pour des tasses à
café aux étuis à lunettes, et jusqu'à robes, sacs, foulards et
luminaires - sont toutes faites de feutre.
Ou Miki Ohana, qui coud des poupées délicieuses pour les enfants et
les adultes, ou le studio Tezi Teza à l'extrémité sud-ouest du
complexe, qui combine un large éventail d'arts éthiopiens en un seul
espace.
Marché Turc
Turkish Market
Turkish Market
Cour de Justice
Kyriat HaMemshala
Missile Building-Le Missile-HaTil
Missile Building-Le Missile-HaTil
Place de Paris
Offerts par la Ville de Paris
Offerts par la Ville de Paris
KalabatShabbat
Vendredis apres midi de fete au Campus HaNamal
Festive happenings on Fridays afternoon at the Campus HaNamal
Vendredis apres midi de fete au Campus HaNamal
Festive happenings on Fridays afternoon at the Campus HaNamal
Rue Jaffa
Jaffa street
Jaffa street
La cour de Port Inn
Port Inn's backyard
Port Inn's backyard
Gentrification
A mixture of old houses and workshops and new buildings
Un melange de vielles maisons et ateliers et de nouveaux batiments
A mixture of old houses and workshops and new buildings
Un melange de vielles maisons et ateliers et de nouveaux batiments
On the other side of HaAtzmaut Avenue
De láutre cote de lÁvenue HaAtzmaut
De láutre cote de lÁvenue HaAtzmaut
Restaurant
Narguiles
Cafe Coffee
Work and shop Fashion designers
Work and shop Createurs de mode
Work and shop Createurs de mode
SipurHozer
Librairie
Book shop
Librairie
Book shop
Pub Dobrin 7
Galeries d'Árt
Art Gallery
Art Gallery
Eli's Pub
Floor tile
Sol en Ceramique
Sol en Ceramique
Fontaine Wallace
Banc public
Parisian Bench
Parisian Bench
Signes for WC Tous ont des moustaches Turques
Signs for public toilets: people have moustaches
Signs for public toilets: people have moustaches
Balcon
Balcony
Balcony
Chothing shop
Magasin d'habits
Magasin d'habits
Shop Trompe l'óeil paintings
Boutiques peintes en trope l'oeil
Boutiques peintes en trope l'oeil
Fresques sur une fenetre
Frescoe on a window
Frescoe on a window
La Robe Bleue
Administration buildings
Les bureaux administratifs
Les bureaux administratifs
Le port
