Eight days in Israel: two cities an hour apart that barely speak the same language

Two stretches of the sixteenth century Ottoman wall are open to walk, both starting at Jaffa Gate: north above the Christian and Muslim Quarters to Lions' Gate, or south around Mount Zion. Take the northern one, for the rooftops on one side and the Temple Mount rising ahead. It shuts in the late afternoon.

The citadel inside Jaffa Gate is Herodian at the base, Crusader and Mamluk above, and topped by an Ottoman minaret everybody photographs and calls the Tower of David for no good historical reason. The museum reopened in 2023 after a long rebuild and lays out four thousand years of the city in an order you can follow.

Down the steps into Mamilla for the polished version, or carry on ten minutes into the streets off Jaffa Road for hummus, grilled meat and a great deal more noise.

The octagon with the gold roof was finished around 691 under the caliph Abd al Malik, which makes it one of the oldest surviving Islamic buildings anywhere. The tiles on the outside are Ottoman work of the sixteenth century, over the original mosaic. Walk the whole platform rather than photographing the dome and leaving.

Not the Temple but the wall Herod built to retain the platform it stood on, and the enormous lower courses are his. Free, open at any hour, security screening at the entrance, separate sections for men and women, and paper head coverings in a basket by the gate.

The cafes around Hurva Square do falafel, salads and iced coffee and are five minutes uphill from the Wall. All of it closes early on Friday and stays shut on Saturday.

An excavated section of the colonnaded main street of Byzantine Jerusalem, below the modern quarter. A sixth century mosaic map found at Madaba in Jordan shows this street running through the middle of the city with exactly these columns along it, which is how the excavators knew where to dig.

Golgotha and the tomb are both inside this one building, up a staircase and under the rotunda respectively, and it takes a while to work out that the whole church is a shell built over a hillside. The division of the interior between six denominations has been frozen by agreement since 1852, which is why a wooden ladder has stood untouched on a ledge above the entrance since the eighteenth century.

A Crusader church of the 1130s beside Lions' Gate, austere and almost empty, next to the excavated Pools of Bethesda. The acoustics are the reason to come: the stone holds a note for several seconds and pilgrim groups queue up to sing in it. Closed on Sundays.

The open square south of the Holy Sepulchre has cafes around its edges and is the one place in the Christian Quarter with room to sit. Shops here take Sunday off rather than Saturday.

The conical dome on Mount Zion, ten minutes out of Zion Gate, marks where tradition says Mary fell asleep for the last time. German Benedictines built it and it was consecrated in 1910. The crypt below, ringed with chapels donated by different countries, is better than the church above it.

The terrace by the hotel at the top of the ridge is the panorama, and getting here before nine buys it without the camel and the queue for the same photograph. Have the taxi drop you here and walk down from it.

At the bottom of the slope, a walled garden of very old olive trees and a deliberately dark basilica built over the rock where Jesus is said to have prayed the night before his arrest. The windows are glazed in violet to hold the mood of the night it commemorates.

Hummus, msabbaha and hot bread in the Muslim Quarter, or a sesame kaak ring and a paper twist of zaatar from a barrow outside the gate, eaten on the steps.

The excavated spur below Dung Gate, and beneath it a tunnel cut in the eighth century BC to bring the Gihon spring inside the walls ahead of an Assyrian siege. It runs about 533 metres, still carries water, is knee deep in places and pitch dark, so bring shoes you can soak and a torch. A dry Canaanite tunnel runs alongside for anyone who would rather stay out of the water.

Two or three an hour from Yitzhak Navon, thirty five minutes, no booking, contactless card at the gate. Nothing runs over Shabbat.

A circular plaza, back at street level since 2018 after thirty years up on a concrete deck, with Yaacov Agam's rotating fountain of coloured metal, fire and water in the middle. The buildings around it are the most photographed in the city: curved corners, ribbon balconies and rendered concrete.

Fifteen minutes west and you are on sand. This is the sporty end of the city beach, all volleyball nets and matkot, the local bat and ball game whose relentless clacking is the sound of an Israeli afternoon. Swim, then stay for the sunset.

Walk inland and eat late. Nothing gets going before half past eight and the good places want a booking, particularly on a Thursday or Friday night.

A small centre on Dizengoff Street with a gallery, a bookshop and the best map of the White City you will find, plus a self guided route worth following for an hour afterwards. Start here and the rest of the day's buildings stop being anonymous white blocks.

The biggest market in the city, one long lane of shouted prices running towards the sea, fruit and spices at the top and fish, cheese and cheap clothes further in. The eating is in the alleys on either side rather than the main drag. Closed on Saturday and winding down on Friday afternoon.

Hummus, sabich, a fish sandwich or a plate of Iraqi kubbeh soup, all eaten standing up. Do not fill up on the first thing you see.

The first Jewish neighbourhood built outside Jaffa, in 1887, and now the prettiest few streets in Tel Aviv: low houses, painted shutters, galleries, and a former railway terminus at the end that has become a small complex of shops and cafes.

The Ottoman clock tower of 1903 is what you aim for and the edge of the flea market, which fills the streets south of it with furniture, carpets, old cameras and a great deal of confident nonsense. Bargain hard, and come before eleven for the dealers rather than the browsers.

The hummus places in the streets below the clock tower are the best in the country and they sell out. Order it with ful or whole chickpeas, take the pickles and the raw onion, and be there before one.

The old town above the harbour is a maze of restored stone lanes, galleries and a hilltop park with the best view back up the coast to the towers. Down at the water it is still a working fishing port, with boats and nets rather than yachts.

Half an hour back towards the centre, an old district of print shops and furniture makers that has turned into the city's loudest nightlife, covered in street art and still visibly unfinished. Best at dusk and worth staying in for dinner.

Two dozen restored stone houses with tiled roofs and gardens, built by German Templer settlers from the 1870s and now full of delicatessens, a covered food market and cafes. Several of the houses were lifted onto rollers and shifted hundreds of metres during the redevelopment, which is why the layout looks slightly improbable.

About twenty minutes from HaShalom, several times an hour, and not at all over Shabbat. Allow three hours before an international departure.