Whether you're contemplating your first or fifteenth trip to Israel, the following destinations are unique, hidden gems that won’t be crawling with tour groups.  Birthright, Ulpan, and Federation trip alums can rest assured that these won't be repeats.

Care For Some: Biblical grass?1. Stroll in Neot Kedumim, the Biblical Landscape Reserve
You may have already visited the amazing Biblical Zoo, but how about a botanical gardens that shows you all of the plants and flowers mentioned in the Bible? It’s gorgeous, fun, and educational in the marginal ‘not-too-boring’ kind of way.

2. Check Out the Rockefeller Museum of Archaeology
It’s easy to skip most of East Jerusalem on your first few trips because there’s so much going on in West Jerusalem, but the Rockefeller Museum is definitely worth a trip. They have some of the Dead Sea Scrolls, displayed differently than the big exhibit in the Israel Museum, and all kinds of cool things that have been dug up in Israel from the Iron Age to the Byzantine Empire.

Shen Ramon: mean's 'Roman's Tooth'3. Hike to Shen Ramon in Mitzpe Ramon
Mitzpe Ramon is a huge crater in the middle of the Negev (or maybe it’s an erosion cirque—I can never tell the difference). There’s a fairly standard hike that takes you past waterfalls and up ladders (assuming you go during the rainy season), but if you have it in you to try hiking to the craters inside Shen Ramon, the highest peak inside the crater, you’re rewarded with unbelievably beautiful views, and maybe a peak at an ibex or two.


4. Find the Last Supper
There are two places in Jerusalem that claim to be the site of the Last Supper. They’re both almost certainly wrong, but fun to visit anyway. First, head to the Assyrian Church of the East in the Armenian Quarter of the Old City. I can’t find a link for it (that’s how hidden it really is), but to find it enter the Old City at the Jaffa Gate, make a right, walk past the church with the red British post box outside. Take the second left and wind around a few little alleyways. There’s a small sign, but probably best to ask someone… At the church they pray in Aramaic, and they’ve got a room in the basement where they claim Jesus had his final piece of matzo.

Coenaculum: pretty space for a simcha? Or you could head to The Last Supper Room, also called the Coenaculum in the Old City, directly above the Tomb of David. This room can’t possibly be the room where Jesus had his last supper, since it was built in the 12th century, but it could possibly be built on top of the site where Jesus and the disciples chowed down. Anyway, it’s pretty and kind of a fun thing to visit. Last time I was there I kept thinking how funny it would be to have a Jewish wedding in that room.

5. Help Out at Urban Kibbutzim
There’s a new trend of young Jewish collectives in urban areas, instead of way out in agricultural spaces. Urban kibbutzim, as they’re called, can be found in Jerusalem, Sderot and Beit Shemesh, and have been meeting with great success in the past few years. In Jerusalem, Kibbutz Reshit has converted the Ir Ganim neighborhood into a safe and beautiful place after years of it being a crime-ridden area with trash on the streets and drugs for sale on the corner. Stop by to see how young Israelis are reinventing the kibbutz movement. (And there are even urban kibbutzim specifically for English-speakers!)

Elijah's Cave: say Ommmm6. Meditate in Elijah’s Cave
If you’re up north in Haifa and want something different to do, visit Elijah’s Cave at the bottom of Cape Carmel. Tradition holds that this is where Elijah came to pray before he called down holy fire to defeat the followers of Baal on nearby Mount Carmel. He also hid in the cave after a nasty run in with Ahab and Jezebel. Since Elijah is holy to Christians, Jews and Muslims you’ll find all kinds of groups visiting the cave to pray and meditate. It’s beautiful inside, and a nice place to sit quietly with your thoughts.

7. Make A Speech on the Mount of Beatitudes
I’ve never been particularly interested in the Sermon on the Mount, being a Jew and all, but it’s certainly a nice homily, and if you’re feeling profound take a trip up to the Galilee, where you can visit a church that claims to be on the site where Jesus gave his famous sermon. It’s a gorgeous area, regardless of the history, and the church grounds are peaceful and nicely kept. Plus, it’s free.

A Symbol: of Peace8. Explore Kibbutz Ramat Rahel
You can stay at the kibbutz hotel, or attend a wedding on kibbutz grounds without ever noticing all of the cool things to see at Kibbutz Ramat Rahel. The kibbutz has a crazy history because for many years it was right on the border with Jordan, and has been destroyed and rebuilt three times. Way before that, though, Jezebel had her lair (a huge palace) on the site where the kibbutz is now. Seriously. Most of the archeological ruins have been taken to the Israel Museum, but there’s still stuff to see. Plus, if you hike out into the kibbutz fields you may run into actual shepherds herding their flocks, and you can see a fantastic sculpture—three huge columns with an olive tree planted on top of them, more than twenty feel in the air. There’s a bucket on a pulley so you can water the tree. It’s a gorgeous and easy hike, and the sculpture will take your breath away.

Happy Israeli Independence Day!

Today we read about two strange phenomena in foreign travel – “slum tourism” andThe men of Munich: Would they make good tour guides? “counter-terrorism tourism.” Slum tourism, as it’s called in the Times, gives do-gooders and adventure-minded tourists the chance to visit impoverished neighborhoods in places like Brazil and India, offering them a more “real” perspective on life in other countries. "Counter-terrorism tours," however, as described by Slate, are aimed at police officers who come to Israel to see the country’s strategies for fighting terrorists firsthand.

While both of these travel trends raise ethical questions, they also evoke a reluctant sense of admiration at the business brains behind the tours, and their ability to capitalize on taboo subjects with a “when life gives you lemons” mentality. There’s something about the counter-terrorism tours that seems uniquely Israeli: Who else would see the business potential in even the grimmest circumstances? From a detached perspective, it’s difficult to deny the marketing genius behind these tours. As the article in Slate succinctly notes, “What can a country do when its tourist industry is eclipsed by terrorism? The answer, it seems, is to market terrorism to tourists.”

But the ethical questions still remain, shedding light on the issues at the core of both tours. They share the same basic premise: Outsiders viewing frightening situations in a brief and controlled way, then returning to their safe, comfortable lives. While slum tourism at least claims to offer some kind of improvement or humanitarian aid in exchange for its presence in the neighborhoods, counter-terrorism tours exploit a culture of violence without asking any of the obvious questions. How successful are Israel’s counter-terrorism efforts, really? What are the consequences of prolonged violence? What does this mean for people like the citizens of Sderot, for whom violence is an ever-present aspect of their lives? Ultimately, ignoring these questions trivializes the plights of those affected by terrorism and war, and turns their suffering into a commodity.

Israel is trying to sex up its image. The July issue of Maxim Sexy Israel: Maxim's "Women of the IDF" feature was cooked up in the Israeli consulate led with a spicy photo spread of the "Women of the Israel Defense Force"—an idea pitched to the magazine by the Israeli consulate in New York. And Kobi Israel's homoerotic photographs of Israeli male soldiers have helped give the country a sexy, queer image around the world.

Recent statistics show that these efforts to sex-up Israel's image are working. Tourism to Israel, which virtually ceased for a few years during the height of the Second Intifada, has returned to normal.

But many of these new tourists want their itinerary to include a glimpse of Israel's decidedly unsexy side, too. Two colleagues of mine recently made a trip to Hebron, the city in the West Bank in which Palestinians and Israeli settlers live with their hair standing on end, baring teeth at one another ready for attack. The trip was organized by Breaking the Silence, a group of former Israeli soldiers, who show tourists what the Israeli army is being asked to do to protect the settlers and cow the local Palestinian residents into submission. One person described it as a twisted Disneyland, another as a zoo, watching people live their lives sealed off behind barbed wire.

By far the most popular stop on the socially responsible travel itinerary is the Separation Barrier dividing Israelis from Palestinians. In the past three years I have been invited dozens of times to More Sexy Israel: Kobi Israel's homoerotic photos of IDF soldiers have enhanced Israel's standing on the queer travel circuitparticipate in these trips.

The separation barrier, or "wall" as it is often referred to, runs much of the length of the West Bank, weaving in and out of the Green Line that serves as the internationally recognized border of Israel. Building of the wall began with Ariel Sharon's government as a response to the Second Intifada, ostensibly to protect Israelis from violent Palestinian incursions. For most Israelis and Palestinians, the barrier has become its own de facto border, despite insistent denials from the Israeli government that the barrier is intended to mark a border.

In Jerusalem, the wall is at its most notorious as it scars the landscape with huge twenty foot slabs of concrete. One can see the wall from many parts of the city, and several different political groups have created tours of the wall for visitors.

The number of organizations getting involved in "socially responsible tourism" grows each time I return. Almost all the tours are led by left-of-center social change organizations who try to shake the complacency of travelers who only experience Israel as a normal tourist destination with its ancient ruins, museums, good restaurants, hotels and beaches.

The feminist group Machsom Watch, which monitors the checkpoints for Israeli human rights' violations, takes visitors to see the checkpoints that regulate Palestinian movement. Breaking the Silence takes visitors to the Wall and to Hebron. Ir Amim (City of Nations), Women in Black, Rabbis for Human Rights, Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions, and others all offer their own tours of the effects of the Israeli occupation.

Israelis, on both the right and the left ends of the political spectrum, take the tours to better understand what is happening within their own country. Most of the international tourists who participate are like me, people who spend much time in Israel, who engage the country deeply, and are troubled by some of its politics andNot So Sexy Israel: The separation barrier attracts more tourists every year policies.

There are also one-time tourists, of all religious and ethnic backgrounds, sometimes Europeans, sometimes American Jews, who have seen the standard tourist sites like the Old City and historic ruins, but who now want to see in person the places which they read about on a regular basis in their local newspapers.

And for American Jews who usually see travel to Israel as a form of identity travel, the tours are a way of showing them the implications of racialized occupation, as well as the harsh reality of what Israel as a state does in the name of the Jews.

The best, most sophisticated tours show not just the hardships that the wall imposes on Palestinian residents—who are now on occasion separated from their jobs, schools, and family by concrete—but also what motivated the Israeli government to put up the wall in the first place: very real fears about violence carried out by Palestinians living just miles away.

Socially responsible travel recognizes that tourism is too often about not engaging the place to which one travels. It's instead about searching out fantasies like those in the photo spreads of Maxim. But tourists have power: they can support or destroy local economies, and support or resist political and social situations that a traveler might find reprehensible at home. When tourists spend their dollars in countries like China visiting the Great Wall and the Forbidden City, should they also be invested in encouraging political change by meeting dissident journalists and Falun Gong members?

Separation barrier tourists, both Jewish and not, are choosing to engage, to see political realities that are usually masked by the tour guides on their overly air conditioned buses that zoom from place to place. In the future, as people become more sensitive to the political implications of their travel choices, perhaps a visit to the separation wall will become a standard stop on the average tourist's visit to Israel.

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That airport restroom is now a tourist attraction:

The Minneapolis airport toilet where US senator Larry Craig was arrested for allegedly soliciting gay sex is now attracting tourists, say airport staff.

"People are taking pictures," Karen Evans, an information officer at Minneapolis-St Paul international airport, told Associated Press. [...]

"We had to just stop and check out the bathroom," said Sally Westby of Minneapolis, on her way to Guatemala with her husband Jon. "In fact, it's Jon's second time - he was here last week already." 

Royal Zino, who works at the shoeshine shop next to the public lavatory, said "it's been crazy". "People have been going inside, taking pictures of the stall, taking pictures outside the bathroom door."

Always nice to see a public servant busting a nut to put their state on the map. If I were Sally Westby, though, I'd have some searching questions for my husband.

Was it inevitable? As of Monday, the Vatican has its own airline. Of course, this isn't your usual commercial undertaking; it's a practical response to spiritual matters.  Sounding a lot like a CEO (or is it the CEOs that sound like him?), Father Cesare Atuire of the Vatican pilgrimage office explained: "The spirit of this new initiative is to meet the growing demand by pilgrims to visit the most important sites for the faith". How much to the Holy Land? Unclear, undecided. However, noted Father Atuire, it is important to “bear in mind that the customers will be pilgrims and do not have a great deal of money to spend.” 

 Certainly this is part of the continued attempt by the Vatican to reconcile its rootedness in tradition with modernity, expressed in Benedict’s first encylical, “Deus et Caritas” ("God is Love"). More saliently, however, it seems like a response to the central religious experience of Islam, the Hajj, which sent two million Muslims to Mecca in December 2006, and even, maybe, to the more familiar—and incredibly successful—Birthright, which sends many of us financially fortunate pilgrims to Israel for free.

 What’s the difference between sightseeing and soul-searching? When does a religious pilgrimage become spiritual tourism? Or has modernity rendered the two the same thing? Is the Vatican doing this for the pilgrims or for itself (or is that really the same thing)? Religion can certainly seem like shopping—though, really, I think that it’s the other way around, that shopping can seem a lot like religion.

Cardinal Camillo Ruini, who will serve as the official tour guide for the tour group making the inaugural flight to the shrine in Lourdes, France, justified the Church’s newest accommodation, saying that “the way to make pilgrimages can change over time, but their deepest meaning remains the same: to look for a deeper contact with God.” Whether the Vatican can keep up with competing airlines like Dublin-based Ryanair—which boasted in a staement:  “Ryanair already performs miracles that even the pope’s boss can’t rival, by delivering pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela for the heavenly price of 10 euros”—remains to be seen.  I suppose it’s the consumer’s choice.

Blue Angels in formation at Seafair (Richard Silverstein)

We Jews know about tribes and tribal gatherings. But what happens when you live among a tribe but don't feel yourself a full fledged member? Then tribal gatherings can be alternately strange and fascinating. Take Seattle's Seafair. Fifty years ago, Seattle was a real burg. Once known for its lumber and fishing industries, it did have Boeing and several large military bases as mainstays of the local economy, but little else. This was before Microsoft; before Amazon; before Starbucks; before biotechnology.

Remember when Richard Nixon killed the huge Supersonic Transport (SST) project in 1972, which Boeing had counted on as its production mainstay? The company responded by laying off thousands of workers. And there were no other major industries to take up the slack. The joke going the rounds was: "Will the last person to leave Seattle turn off the lights." That was then. Though Seafair predated the death of the SST, it was created in a similar context.

The city fathers felt they needed to dream up a way to put Seattle on the map. Why not take advantage of one of Seattle's prime attractions: the water. Thus began Seafair, Seattle's summertime festival.

Here's how the Seafair website describes it:

In the half century since Seafair was launched, the city that Seafair helped put on the map has matured from adolescence to adulthood. When Seafair debuted, the Seattle area was without major league sports teams, a symphony or the Seattle Center. Seattle was hungry for national recognition and attention and Seafair filled the bill with Thunderboats racing on Lake Washington and parades which featured the likes of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby.

Over the years, Seafair built pride among the community which still resonates today. The Puget Sound of today is a robust, economically and ethnically diverse community and Seafair has become more important than ever. As major cities melt and become the same, Seafair is the fabric of our community that represents the Northwest lifestyle and keeps us unique.

Seafair has become a home town jewel that reaches nearly 2 million Puget Sound residents each summer. In fact, if you live in the Northwest, you look forward to Seafair and all the simple joys that it brings.

Seafair pirates land at Alki beach (JIm Bryant/Seattle PI)

You can hear the breathless boosterism in the copy. It's as if Seattleites still need to prove they are an interesting town, worthy enough for people to go out of their way to visit. It's sort of embarrassing to the cosmopolitan Jew in me who's been all over the world and lived in many places. It makes you feel you are in Seattle but not of it. Does a modern metropolis on the cutting edge of technology and Pacific Rim trade really need a Milk Carton Derby, pirates landing at Alki beach, gas-guzzling hydroplane races, and Blue Angels flyovers? And speaking of Blue Angels, you don't know dread or terror till you've heard an F-16 screaming a mere 200 feet or so over your head. Imagine the sound of a locomotive roaring through your bedroom while you're in the midst of a deep sleep. Or as a friend said to me: "Is this how I want my tax dollars spent??" Does Seattle really need this to create a unique urban identity?

But who can argue with the hoopla and excitement? Many thousands of tourists actually fly long distances to witness the spectacle. What they see in it I couldn't precisely tell you. I view it something like Christmas. The goyim love this thing. It's loud, annoying, in your face, and the music makes you want to tear your hair out; but they seem to be having fun and part of you doesn't want to deprive them of their pleasure. But another part wants to scratch your head in wonderment at all the foolishness.

I guess Seattle is a number of major ways remains a small town. You can feel it in the crazy fan allegiance to every hometown sports team from Huskies football to the Mariners. And that is the charm of the place and the bane of it as well. I've lived in Los Angeles, the Bay Area, New York, Dublin and Jerusalem. I truly love living in this city. But despite it's cultural offerings, it simply lacks the sizzle of a few of the above cities. There is no Koreatown, no Symphony Space, no Knitting Factory, no Carnegie Hall, no MOMA, not even LACMA. On the other hand, none of these places have the Cascades, a 20 minute commute from a home in the woods to downtown, or one of the best places in the world to bring up young children.

Sexy sabra: One of the Maxim adsMaxim has teamed up with the state of Israel to point out what every American Jew already knows: that IDF soldiers are foxy.  Naturally, the Maxim campaign has already created controversy among those who think Israel's chosen a declassé wingman, a topic the New York Post--also a class act--covered today with the headline "Piece in the Mideast." 

But here's why this is especially interesting, at least to people like me who spend most of our lives staring into a glowing screen: Gawker's having a contest to see if their readers can come up with a better headline, and the comments are not only relatively funny, but nice.  Is it possible that bringing up Judaism makes a bunch of hardened NYC media types get all gentle and kindhearted?

Then again, the comment section also demonstrates something we at Jewcy know all too well: It's hard to come up with a new Jewish pun.  Go enjoy the lack of bitchiness, and then see if you can do them one better.  

I started with an Iyengar yoga class at the giant ashram down the road. The teacher was not a smiling bearded Indian yogi, but a tiny, angular, frowning American woman. Karin O’Bannon was all business. Rumor had it she was in her 70s but it was quite clear she could kick your ass. She was like the Debbie Allen of India. There was no fucking around in Karin’s class. On the waterfront: Many ashrams have shrines along the Ganges“Someone tell her to spread her legs wider,” she barked, pointing at me. One of her assistants mimed to me to spread my legs. I was too scared to point out that I ...

I don’t really get those people who are always waxing nostalgic about life in small Jewish towns in Russia and Poland before World War II. I’m sure it was very nice and simple, but I, for one, am not jealous of the daughters in Fiddler on the Roof. Arranged marriages? No thank you. No internet? I’ll pass. But okay, I can see how people want to get in touch with their heritage and whatnot. I found the first fifty pages of Everything is Illuminated to be reasonably interesting. I’m with you. I am not, however, even remotely interested in touring Eastern Europe, mainly because there are so many other places I’d rather spend my money (Israel, Egypt, Ethiopia, Morocco, Uruguay, Panama, etc.). But if you’re all about the shtetl, check out this piece from Jpost about touring Eastern Europe:

Does Shtetl life: sound like fun?

Author lists Top 10 Jewish sites in Central and Eastern Europe
By DINAH SPRITZER / JTA

"Jewish Heritage Travel: A Guide to Eastern Europe" has comprehensive information about 14 countries in Central and Eastern Europe for those interested in synagogues, cemeteries, museums, and meeting Jews who still live in the region.

But with hundreds of sites to choose from, how does one know what are the must-see attractions?
Ruth Ellen Gruber, the book's author, recently released in its third edition by National Geographic, shared her list of favorites.

As she puts it, "Most people visiting Jewish heritage in Central and Eastern Europe see what's in major cities such as Prague, Budapest and Krakow, or visit major Holocaust memorial sites such as Auschwitz in Poland, Terezin in the Czech Republic or Babi Yar in Kiev. But there are fascinating and important sites all over the region, in small towns and even remote villages."

Here are Gruber's choice of the Top 10 sites worth a detour:

• The historic Jewish cemeteries and painted synagogues in northern Romania. The tombstones feature elaborate carving and the synagogue interiors boast beautiful decoration. The most impressive cemeteries are the three in Siret, on the border with Ukraine. Nearby towns with painted synagogues and cemeteries include Botosani, Suceava, Radauti and Piatra Neamt.

• The Jewish cemeteries and ruins of fortress synagogues in Ukraine. In Sataniv, the synagogue hauntingly retains some of its interior decoration and the tombstones feature elaborate carving, including rare examples of a mystical motif showing three hares joined by the ears chasing each other in a circle. The village of Sharhorod has a fortress synagogue, fascinating cemeteries, extensive remains of shtetl architecture and a small Jewish community.

• The baroque synagogue and Jewish cemetery in the village of Mad, in northeastern Hungary. The synagogue recently underwent a full restoration.

• The synagogues in Lancut, in southeastern Poland, and in Tykocin, in northeastern Poland. Both have been restored and are used as Jewish museums.

• The old Jewish quarters, synagogues and cemeteries in the towns of Boskovice, Trebic and Lomnice, near Brno in the Czech Republic.

• Anything to do with the Hungarian architect Lipot Baumnhorn (1860-1932), modern Europe's most prolific designer of synagogues. Particularly recommended are the grand synagogue in Szeged, Hungary, and a ruined synagogue in Lucenec, Slovakia; Baumhorn's tomb in the Kozma utca Jewish cemetery in Budapest; and the monument to him outside the former synagogue he designed in Szolnok, Hungary.

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