Our tour ends at the legendary kiosk on the corner of Herzl and Rothschild streets, a symbolic landmark at the heart of the “White City.” Opened in 1910, shortly after Tel Aviv’s founding, this modest structure quickly became an institution, embodying the spirit of its time and carrying the weight of its historical significance. The municipality introduced strict regulations to maintain the city's orderly and cultured appearance: kiosks could occupy no more than four square metres, and only non-alcoholic beverages were permitted for sale.
Kiosks like this one soon sprang up across the city, and the trade in fizzy drinks became a fashionable trend. This gave rise to the word gazoz in Hebrew, which has remained a nostalgic nod to those early days. Even Israel’s national poet, Chaim Nachman Bialik, left his mark on the history of this humble beverage. It’s said he frequented this very kiosk and penned a witty expression in eloquent Hebrew, now immortalised on a plaque at the site—a playful challenge for anyone attempting to decipher its intricate phrasing.
Despite his reputation as a champion of the Hebrew language revival, Bialik often spoke openly in Yiddish, the language of the Jewish diaspora. When questioned about this apparent contradiction, he replied with his characteristic Jewish humour: “On Shabbat, I don’t work.” This lighthearted quip perfectly balanced the earnest mission of reviving Hebrew and the easygoing charm of life in early Tel Aviv.
The kiosk at the corner of Herzl and Rothschild is far more than a quaint relic of Tel Aviv’s modest beginnings. It is a living testament to the cultural and social transformations that shaped the first Hebrew city, a charming reminder of how much has changed while keeping the essence of the past alive, making us all a part of its history.
Let us begin our journey at Habima Square, a central crossroads in Tel Aviv where Rothschild Boulevard meets Sderot Hen, named after the national poet Haim Nachman Bialik. These boulevards, shaded by elegant ficus trees, are more than just scenic streets—they are the threads of a narrative that weaves through the history of Israel’s founding.
On Sderot Hen, at No. 1, a pivotal moment unfolded on May 13, 1948. Within this modest building, Arab representatives signed a formal agreement of surrender, just one day before the proclamation of Israel’s independence. A few steps away, across Rothschild Boulevard, in the home of Tel Aviv’s first mayor, Meir Dizengoff, David Ben-Gurion stood in a modest living room and declared the establishment of the State of Israel.
This short but profound route between two historic landmarks is a journey through time. It captures the essence of Tel Aviv’s transformation—from a nascent Hebrew city into the cultural and historical heart of modern Israel. Each building, each street, whispers the stories of visionaries and pivotal moments. Walking this path isn’t just about seeing the city; it’s about feeling its pulse, its spirit, and its unique place in history.
