It's after 3 a.m. - cool, but not cold. I'm waiting for a cab after leaving a trendy new Tel Aviv nightclub. Across the street, a sharply dressed man is carrying a woman in a white dress in his arms. Her long, dark hair swings from side to side with each step he takes. A taxi stops in front of me, just as he tries to stand her up. I see her head bob forward and her knees buckle as they fight what are probably the effects of another wild night in Tel Aviv. Oh, and it's Tuesday.
On the other side of the city, on a short, narrow street, past two beefy bouncers, through a black door, down a dark stairwell and behind a thick curtain, Yotam Shochat, a co-owner of Mental, one of the hottest dance bars in the city, pours on-the-house shots of whisky for a few of his customers. His club - a dark, L-shaped space - is considered a "hardcore" nightspot, known for its electronic music and the action that takes place in the bathroom stalls, which come equipped with small sinks and provide complete privacy with doors that reach the floor.
Between pours, Shochat tries to explain why Jews - who traditionally eat as a way of socializing - are out drinking in the middle of the night and the middle of the week.
"I just don't understand it and I'm years in this business," the scruffily dressed 30-year-old nightlife prince says, adding simply that for young Israelis "it seems natural" to party on weeknights into the wee hours. "Not the poor economy, not terror, not nothing affects the scene here."
Maybe it's out of the fear that, even after 60 years in the area, Israel remains an unpopular neighbour always at risk of being thrown out. Or possibly it's because Israelis have become accustomed - even addicted - to feeling constantly "on," ready for action.
Of course, while this country may stir up visions of buses blowing up, Israeli soldiers battling Palestinian militants and Kassam rockets streaking overhead, you're not likely to see any of that in Tel Aviv, which Israelis call "The Bubble." The city last saw a suicide bombing in 2006.
Whatever the reason, Tel Aviv has a tremendous nightlife, one that puts many larger metropolises to shame. People in the business estimate the city has hundreds of nightspots, but with few exceptions, the cavernous clubs that can accommodate several thousand are no longer considered cool. Instead, the dance bars that have mushroomed in the past year are now considered the places to be. Tel Avivis in their mid-20s to their early 40s prefer to go to a large bar with great music, where they can not only dance but also sit with their drink and have a conversation. Maybe even eat a salad.
The challenge, however, is getting to these places. To begin with, you need to know what they are called and where to find them. The hottest Israeli dance bars don't advertise. They don't want every Moshe, Itzik and Yossi at their doors, so the owners promote their places among their small circles of friends.
"All the pretty guys and girls know what they're worth," Nisan Larido, a co-owner of Landen, another of the city's hottest dance bars, says as we sit on a comfortable couch in an alcove of the living-room-like space. "If a place begins to lose it, then people stop coming."
Larido is typical of the type of people who run these establishments: good-looking, very friendly and casually dressed. But under that easygoing persona lies a sharp businessman who regularly scans the crowd to assess the ratio of men to women and the "quality" of the people, ruthlessly ignoring the pleas of those deemed unsuitable.
Which brings us to the next obstacle: getting inside.
There are two ways to enter: Either you are on The List or the hostess gives you the okay. Club owners use The List to screen their clientele - which is to say that if someone does not look up to standard, they are told they can't enter because they are not on The List.
Landen is located in a garish commercial building known as London Ministore, on Tel Aviv's bustling Ibn Gvirol Street. On a recent Friday night, just after 11, I arrive at the entrance area, a narrow, low-ceilinged space where metal guardrails and two very muscular bouncers - they're called "selectors" here and are former commandos - are holding back a small group of hopeful revellers. I call out my name, and a handsome selector with bursting biceps - revealed by a very short-sleeved black T-shirt - eyes me, then looks at The List in his hands. He nods when he finds my name and, almost biblically, the hopefuls part, the selectors slide the guardrail aside and I stroll past and enter.
Tel Aviv's dance bars are either edgy, with dark walls and odd posters, or living-room-like, with comfy sofas and soft lamps. Landen is very much the latter. The atmosphere is warm and the decor is literally like a home. The DJ's corner is tiled like a kitchen, the back has a large bookcase like a living room, and a VIP corner is "the bedroom." It opened six months ago - which seems like ages in the ephemeral world of dance clubs - but is still considered a top spot. The pretty crowd dances, drinks and flirts as the DJ slides from Coldplay to a popular Israeli band.
Shaily Bing, 25, has reserved three places at the bar via a text message to co-owner Larido for herself and two girlfriends, one of whom has begun kissing the guy sitting next to her. Bing, a buxom military officer, comes here twice a week, but plans to move on in a couple of months: The owners will be opening a new place by the city's port.
The living-room gimmick has been adopted successfully around town. Apartment 98 recently opened on the second floor of a building on Dizengoff Street. It's co-owned by a member of the Castiel furniture family. Its dark furnishings make it more elegant than other places, the space is smaller, and the resulting vibe is more exclusive.
Within walking distance of Landen is Villa Sokolov, a ground-floor dance bar with a garden area for cooling off and lounging. By the time I arrive, it's difficult to get past the twentysomething crowd dancing elatedly to the Gypsy Kings between the two bars, the bookshelves, the oil paintings and the sofas.
Another 10-minute walk southeast and I arrive at Zizi Tripo, open only three weeks and already one of the hottest underground dance bars in town, with nine bartenders rapidly serving drinks to the thirtysomething crowd.
Shai David, a techno DJ at another club, is impressed with the bar's dungeon-like design, but he doesn't like the breakbeat electro music played by the two female DJs. "People come here because of the name," he insists. "A place with a good name can play opera and people will come."
Despite the recent nationwide ban on smoking in public places, my clothes stink by the end of the night. Club owners are reluctant to enforce the law because they don't want to lose customers.
Farther south, in the colourful neighbourhood of Florentine, is the legendary HaOman 17 club, which draws people from all over the country. The converted warehouse is famous for the big-name DJs it attracts from abroad, its mix of gay and straight patrons, and the pseudo-S&M shows it presents onstage.
This night is the official launch of Madonna's Hard Candy album. But hers is not the only "candy" kicking around. Three guys wait impatiently for me to finish talking to Mushwaka, a HaOman regular wearing a black T-shirt and sunglasses, so they can snort a row of white powder. When they've finished, "Moshe" turns to me and says: "Write down that the partiers from Ashkelon sniff crystal on the bar."
But for those looking for a little less action, there are the neighbourhood bars. These places are small and are not frequented by what many Tel Avivis call "the people of the periphery" - those from poorer towns - because it's too hard to drive so deep into the city and parking is almost impossible to find.
One such place, Eliezer, is a small, two-storey neighbourhood bar with a chandelier in the stairwell and excellent food. It plays popular English-language and Israeli music, and the bartender frequently gives free shots to regulars. After 1 a.m. on a Tuesday night, it's hopping.
Nati Pitkovitch, 24, says she comes here because of the "intimate" atmosphere and the "quality" people. The young law student stays out late at least once a week. "We need it - to clean our head and also to meet people," she says.
Like most young Israelis in Tel Aviv, she's not concerned that a terrorist might come in. "I don't think about it," she says, echoing the opinion of many others.
The bouncers, the club
owners insist, are mostly there to keep out the drunks and the undesirables.
Finally, any nightspot tour should include Levontin 7. Both a neighbourhood bar and the centre of the alternative Israeli and foreign music scene, it attracts yuppies, hippies and everyone in between. Under the ground-floor, high-ceilinged bar is a performance space that features two shows a night. Owners Daniel Sarid and Asif Tsahar, both musicians and both in their 30s, were inspired by New York's Knitting Factory. At the end of this month, Canadian band AIDS Wolf will be performing.
The best part: There is no List.
Pack your slinkiest outfit
MONEY Most dance bars don't charge entrance fees unless they are holding a special event - in which case it could cost you as much as $44 to get in.
LAW You must be at least 18 years of age to drink. Smoking is prohibited in public places - but hey, it's Israel, so everyone does it anyway.
LANDEN
Classy, living-room-style
dance bar.
Address: 2 Shaul Hamelech St., corner of Ibn Gvirol.
Music: Mainstream hits,
some in Hebrew.
Dress code: No flip-flops, shorts or hats.
Age range: 25-30 plus.
Hours: 9 p.m. until the last customer leaves.
Tip: Send a text message to Nisan saying you read about the club in The Globe and Mail and want to be on that night's list. 972 (0) 52-691-9191.
ZIZI TRIPO
Hardcore underground
dance bar.
Address: 7 Karlibach St.
Music: Breakbeat electro
(whatever that is).
Dress code: "Cool," say the owners.
Age range: Mid-20s to late 30s.
Hours: 10 p.m. until the last customer leaves.
Tip: Send a text message to Omer saying you read about the club in The Globe and want to be on that night's list. 972 (0) 54-630-3012.
ELIEZER
Stylish neighbourhood bar.
Address: 186 Ben-Yehuda St. ("Eliezer" is written in Hebrew on the glass wall.)
Music: Mainstream hits in
English and Hebrew.
Dress code: Appropriately stylish.
Age range: 25 and up.
Hours: 7 p.m. until the wee hours.
Tip: Tell the guard it's your first visit and you'll get a free drink chip.
Mental
Hardcore underground
dance bar.
Address: 7 Shadal St. - look for the beefy bouncers in black.
Music: Electro.
Dress code: None, but look good if it's Thursday or Friday.
Age range: 26 to early 40s.
Hours: 10 p.m. until the last customer leaves.
Tip: If you want the hardcore atmosphere but not the music, come on a Monday night when Groove Redemption plays groove, reggae and funk
covers.LEVONTIN 7
Neighbourhood bar with a separate music performance space.
Address: Like the name.
Music: Mix of hip hop, groove, blues, roots and whatever else Yael, the bar hostess, likes.
Dress code: None.
Age range: Everyone is welcome.
Hours: 8 p.m. until the last customer leaves.
Tip: Try co-owner Daniel Sarid's drink, Tar, named after his album.
HAOMAN 17
Hardcore dance club.
Address: Abarbanel 88 in
Florentine neighbourhood.
Music: Trance, techno.
Dress code: None.
Age range: 22 and up.
Hours: Open only Thursdays and Fridays, midnight until midday (more or less).
Tip: Go on a gays' night.
APARTMENT 98
Classy dance bar.
Address: 98 Dizengoff St., second floor.
Music: Electronic mainstream - they've got a "music consultant"!
Dress code: Classy.
Hours: 10 p.m. until about 2:30 a.m. on weeknights and 4:30 a.m. on weekends.
Age range: 25-35.
Tip: Send a text message to Eyal saying you read about the club in The Globe and want to be on that night's list. 972 (0) 54-333-2327.
VILLA SOKOLOV
Living-room dance bar.
Address: 4 Kaplan St., entrance from the right side of Beit
Sokolov building.
Music: Mainstream pop,
in English and Hebrew.
Dress code: Don't come
in shorts unless you have
great legs.
Age range: 23-30.
Hours: 8 p.m. until - you know.
Tip: Send a text message to Liron saying you read about the club in The Globe and want to be on that night's list. 972 (0) 50-725-6101.