Tel Aviv is throwing a beach party for the 2,500 Ireland fans expected in the city for next weekend's World Cup qualifier. Frank McNally has been on reconnaissance.
So, I ask Carl, my laconic Tel Aviv guide, are people still nervous about bomb attacks? It has been only two weeks since the last explosion in the city, but before that there was a gap of four months. Partly out of self-interest, I'm hoping Carl will have a reassuringly upbeat answer. Instead he just shrugs wearily. "Are Jews nervous?" he asks. "Do the Irish drink?" That would be a yes on both counts, apparently. The good news for soccer fans travelling to next weekend's World Cup qualifier is that the ceasefires announced last month are holding up well. So is the security fence now dividing most of Israel from the Palestinian territories. On the whole, Carl has more trust in the fence. "It's because of that the attacks have stopped. They still want to kill us, but the bombers aren't getting through any more."
The four-year intifada peaked in 2002, when attacks were happening at the rate of two or three a day. But a measure of the continuing effect is that you'll struggle to find an up-to-date travel guide on Israel. Waterstone's in Dublin quit stocking them "because they hadn't been updated since about 1997". Meanwhile, the surge in tourism Israelis expected after the 2000 Christian jubilee never happened. One new upmarket hotel in Nazareth is now a holding centre for illegal migrants.
Which is why the red carpet will be rolled out for next week's Irish influx, or Operation Green Invasion, as the city calls it. The code name is the brainchild of Kobi Barda, deputy spokesman for the municipality, and reflects his boundless optimism about all things, from the revival of tourism to the prospect of lasting peace. Having dinner with him and Carl is an instructive experience, as they represent two extremes of the national mood. Barda is particularly excited, for example, that the Irish game will coincide with a three-day carnival to mark Purim. This is the Jewish Mardi Gras, when, as he says, "people here drink like crazy". Carl reminds him that Israelis don't really drink. "Well, okay," Barda concedes, but during Purim some will push the boat out and have two beers. Then it's "whoo-hoo - stop the city!" he says, waving his arms to convey the frenzy that grips the nation.
The residents of Tel Aviv are a paradoxical people, combining Mediterranean nightlife with a German work ethic. Sobriety may be the only reason they get away with this. Although greater Tel Aviv is about the same size as Dublin, the city is full of 24-hour shops, bars and cafes. Even some clothes shops are open until the early hours. Nobody goes out until late.
Sober as they are, the locals like to think of themselves as hedonistic. The nation's capital, Jerusalem, is left to the religious Jews, and the hip young things of Tel Aviv see it as a bit of a dinosaur. Theirs is a city of pick-up bars, of "decadent Lilienblum Street" and even, according to a full-page ad in one city guide, of "Streep" clubs. Judging by the illustration, the Streep clubs have less to do with Meryl than with eccentric spelling. Tel Aviv also has an open gay scene, something of a rarity in the Middle East.
Assuming most Irish visitors next week will be male and heterosexual, Carl warns that "Israel girls are very direct". He adds: "Don't be surprised if after one or two drinks they say: your place or mine?" The bad news is that they're also trained soldiers. National service applies to both sexes here - three years for men, two for women - which helps explain the brusqueness that can make Israelis intimidating (and not just to Palestinians). Israeli women "also know their limits", says Carl, "and if you do something they don't like you'll find yourself in a police station".
Apart from the picturesque and ancient old port of Jaffa, where overcrowding led to the foundation of a satellite city in 1909, most of Tel Aviv is 20th century. In fact, it looks as if it was built last week. But away from the seafront it is also a living museum of 1930s Bauhaus architecture, so prevalent here that the city is a world heritage site.
If you're walking around admiring it, you should bear in mind that Israelis are possibly the worst drivers in the world. They combine the aggression of Eddie Irvine with the co-ordination of Eddie the Eagle, and, except when the traffic is snarled up because of accidents, they go everywhere fast. Pedestrian crossings operate on the principle that cars will only stop if a pedestrian is already in the middle the road and if stopping is still a realistic option.
Despite the very real danger from local drivers, most visitors will be more worried about the Arab-Israeli conflict. Not without reason. Across from my hotel last week, I came across a lovely old street market. It turned out to be Carmel Market - the city's biggest - and, especially after dark, when single light bulbs lit up the fruit stalls, it was a charmingly atmospheric place to wander. But you couldn't escape the thought that its crowded narrow streets would be perfect for a suicide bomber. I looked it up afterwards, and, sure enough, three people died there in November, in the last-but-one attack in Tel Aviv.
Beside the hotel, on the beach, I strolled past the now-closed dolphinarium, scene of one of the worst attacks, in 2001, the aftermath of which was witnessed by Joschka Fischer, the German foreign minister, who was also staying at the hotel. More than 20 people died. Further down the promenade, after being frisked by a doorman, I watched Champions League football in Mike's Place, a popular sports bar, unaware that it too had been bombed, in 2003.
The spate of attacks finally forced the erection of the fence, an old left-wing idea long resisted by the Israeli right because it might become a de facto border. Local Jewish communities started building it on their own, and the government reluctantly followed. Now nearing completion, the fence - it's a wall for short sections, including areas used by snipers - has attracted bad press abroad. But it's very popular in Israel and is probably why shoppers in Carmel Market last week looked so relaxed.
It also explains the confidence with which Tel Aviv is welcoming the expected 2,500 Irish fans. The French will be visiting immediately afterwards, but there are no plans for them, apparently, partly because France is very unpopular here. Ireland, by contrast, is all the rage in Israel. They don't know much about it, but the "Irish model" gets mentioned a lot, in everything from peace talks to tourism marketing, and the city may have more Irish pubs than Irish expats.
The city is throwing a beach party for the football fans, and bars will compete with everything from free hot dogs to all-day happy hours. Tel Aviv may be in for a big culture shock. One version of happy hour involves paying a flat fee to drink all you like, an offer that has never been fully exploited by locals. But I warn everyone who will listen that it could be a seriously bad idea next weekend. To paraphrase Carl, Irish football supporters do drink. Jewish bar owners should be nervous.
Frank McNally travelled as a guest of the Israeli foreign ministry, Israeli ministry of tourism and Municipality of Tel Aviv-Jaffa
WHERE TO EAT AND DRINK/IRISH PUBS: Molly Bloom's (2 Mendele Street) is Israel's oldest and best. It opens, as is Tel Aviv custom, from 4pm until the last customer leaves. Other Irish pubs include Leo Bloom's, Dublin - a Gothic affair built in Ireland and shipped to Israel in containers - and Temple Bar.
OTHER BARS: Lansky (6 Montefiore Street) is said to be the biggest bar in the Middle East. This sounds impressive until you remember that the Middle East is not a bar-intense region. But Lansky is also the city's favourite "pick-up joint", a phrase used unapologetically by hedonistic locals. Popular seafront bars include Mike's Place (86 Herbert Samuel Boardwalk) and, right next door, Buzz Stop.
Dixie (120Yigal Alon Street, telephone 03-6966123) is a cross between a US-style steak house and a European restaurant. Importantly for Irish soccer fans, it never closes. With the exception of pork, meat is big in Israel, especially at Meatologia (12 Yirmiyahoo Street, 03-6046152), where you pay a set amount and waiters with mobile butchers' blocks bring endless joints to your table, carving until you shout stop. Artichoke (36 Montefiore Street, 03-5667770), on the beautifully renovated ground floor of one of Tel Aviv's older houses, offers French cuisine, with great desserts.
HELP The Irish Embassy is at 3 Daniel Frisch Street (03-6964166).