John Elkington

Rather than write a long travelogue, I will simply run a series of images to indicate the extraordinary diversity of sights we saw today in Jerusalem. Guided around by Chris (Sveen) and by Lauren Shachar, whose father was a Holocaust survivor. A wonderful combination of talents.

So much has changed since we were in Israel in 1959, but here in Jerusalem so much hasn’t – and so much, like the Western wall tunnels, has come to light since. As we drove east from Tel Aviv in the morning, I was expecting to see burned out vehicles from the 1948 war, where migrants arriving on the coast were rushed straight into battle. I remember being forcefully struck by the wreckage as a child. Nowadays it has been cleaned up and is more symbolic.

Sam and I flew in last night (Tuesday), direct from Heathrow. I spent much of the flight reading Ari Shavit’s astonishing book, My Promised Land, lent to me by Richard Roberts. Greeted at the airport and steered through immigration, we were driven across to the Dan Tel Aviv. Remarkably insightful account of the world I briefly touched on when we took a brief family holiday from Cyprus in 1958.

We were soon taken under the wing of Chris Sveen, Chief Sustainability Officer of UBQ Materials – and, apparently, the first CSO in Israel. He has lived in many countries, from Colombia to Denmark where he now lives, but his knowledge of the country’s history and of Hebrew proved tremendously helpful as Israel unrolled its beauties, mysteries and horrors.

Our first full day involved a fascinating session with the top team of UBQ Materials. We are subject to a non-disclosure agreement, but I can report that the collective intelligence and humour was very striking. In the evening we were taken to the restaurant on top of the Azreali Towers, with a fine view of an extraordinary computer game being played out on the facade of City Hall. On our way back, we stopped off to watch – and Sam soon took control of the keyboard and had things in overdrive.

Sad to have missed out on meeting Professor Oded Shoseyov, whose father just died. He chairs the UBQ Scientific Advisory Board – and has a mind-boggling science CV. Take a look at his TEDxJerusalem talk here. One thing I learned was that his PhD was on the flavours and aromas associated with wines. He also has his own winery, Bravdo.

Afterwards, we were taken around Jaffa at night, which was a stunning contrast to Tel Aviv proper. The main port of entry, apparently, for the cedars of Lebanon bound for Solomon’s temple. I could almost see Richard the Lionheart cruising by in search of safe landing grounds, though the main historical figure seemed to be a statue (or at least large figurine) of Napoleon. Who probably had similar interests.

Today we were driven 90 minutes either way to the kibbutz where UBQ’s factory is located, in the Negev. We were challenged to spot where the desert began and the cultivated land ended – almost impossible without a trained eye. Much discussion of how the need for irrigation – and for micro-irrigation in particular- drove the development of the country’s plastics industry.

UBQ is still in stealth mode, but I can’t wait for the wraps to come off – a gloriously cutting edge clean technology story, in the most unlikely of sectors.

I get a couple of pages (8-9) in the latest issue of Novo Nordisk’s TBL Quarterly.

Quite a week. Apart from anything else, there have been the chemical and cruise missile attacks in Syria. Meanwhile, the skies have been blue and my social calendar has been in overdrive.

Monday involved a trip across to Oxford and the Skoll World Forum, for an evening in celebration of the Pamela Hartigan. Tuesday, after a seminar by Adrian Gault (Chief Economist, Committee on Climate Change) at UCL on the UK Carbon Budget, involved a delightful dinner with Paul Ekins. Then Friday evening took us to Zédel with two cousins. And last night was a much quieter evening (including padded walls) at the new Keeper’s House restaurant under the Royal Academy of Arts, this time with Debra Dunn.

And through it all I have been reading an astonishing novel, Sebastian Barry’s Days Without End. Remarkable use of language – and existentially unsettling insights into the horror of the wresting of the Old West from the tribes that had made them home.

Then, on our way home on the Sunday, we decided to drop off at Chanctonbury Ring. Weirdly, as we climbed up through the hangings towards the top and the South Down Way, I keep having a profound sense of déjà vu. It was only when we reached to very top that it suddenly struck me that I had been here before, some eight years ago, when speaking at nearby Wilton Park.

Here are some images from this time around: