Guy's family were the consummate hosts. We had the chance to look through old photo albums, to swap stories, and to share a local favorite form of take out. Joachim and Priscilla had ended up staying at a different hotel because Kayak charged European users far more than American users in this instance, so we said our goodbyes. They had an early morning flight and I got to stay another day. Shai's family was so kind as to give them a ride and one of Guy's cousins was extremely gracious and offered a separate trip for me. From the family and friends I got advice for the remainder of my trip: see Jaffa, eat at Old Man and the Sea, check out Rothschild Boulevard and a few happening districts in southern Tel Aviv.
The city in the evening in March is quite inviting. Bicyclists and pedestrians travel the promenades depicted above and the weather lures you outside. The long stretched parks themselves are not the only pedestrian-safe places; sidewalks and crossing lights abound. In addition, every few blocks they offer a fancy like the pond above or art like the incomplete bridge to the left or hot drink stands. The latter was particularly notable to me, as I've always found D.C.'s mall in need of a few more tiny-scale park cafes, although food vendor trucks can help.
My jaunt on Rothschild started around the Habima Square (depicted on the right) and went down to Israel's first skyscraper: Midgal Shalom. According to the Wikipedia entry, it's also the only subway station in Israel. It was built under the tower in hopes of future connections that never came. I found out about this because I did find signs indicating a future light rail line which sounds as if it is still a few years away from completion.
I'd noticed one odd phenomenon on the walk that I'll have to ask some Tel Aviv natives about: eggplant graffiti. Various vegetable themes were actually fairly common in the city, but I think eggplants were the most prominent. Some googling found a blog post and flickr group that were similarly confused about the matter. Frankly, Guy could probably have told me more about the light rail than the graffiti. He's called Washington, D.C. his home for some time and probably would only keep up with such a phenomenon in Tel Aviv if it involved depictions of meat.