Apollonia–Arsuf

Start with the ground under your feet. It is not quite rock and not quite sand. It is kurkar, the soft, honey-coloured sandstone that runs along Israel's coast. Press your shoe against it and you may feel it crumble. Now listen. Below you, the Mediterranean hits the base of the cliff, again and again. That steady sound is the reason this place exists, and it is also the reason it is slowly disappearing.

You are standing at Apollonia, also known as Arsuf, on the northern edge of modern Herzliya. Today it is a national park. For more than two thousand years, though, it was a working town. Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantine Christians, Muslim rulers and European Crusaders all lived on this ridge. Each group left something behind. Most visitors come for the castle ruins. But the story of this headland is much longer than the castle.

The oldest name of the site is the most surprising part. Scholars link the name Arsuf to Reshef, a Canaanite and Phoenician god of plague, war and lightning. When Greek culture spread across the region after Alexander the Great, the Greeks matched local gods with their own. Reshef was matched with Apollo. So the town became Apollonia, the city of Apollo. Centuries later, Arabic speakers used the older name again. In a quiet way, a forgotten god survives in both names you see on the signs.

The first settlement here likely goes back to the Persian period, roughly two and a half thousand years ago. Phoenician traders from the north valued this coast. The cliff gave them protection, and the sea gave them trade routes. There is no deep natural harbour here. Small boats probably used the shallow waters and the beach below. Look down at the water and imagine cargo moving up this slope by hand and by animal.

In the Roman period, wealthy families built homes along this cliff edge. Archaeologists excavated a large Roman villa here, close to the drop to the sea. It was built around a central courtyard with columns, a style Romans used across their empire. Think about the choice of location. The owner wanted the same view you have now. The open sea, the wind, the long light of evening. Some things about human taste do not change.

During the Byzantine era, when the eastern Roman Empire was Christian, the town grew larger. It carried another name in that period, Sozousa. The population likely included Christians and Samaritans, a religious community related to ancient Israel that still exists today in small numbers. Excavations here found evidence of glass production. Sand from this very coast was an ideal raw material. So the ground you are walking on was once, quite literally, the stuff of drinking cups and windows.

After the Muslim conquest in the seventh century, the town became Arsuf. Its rulers surrounded it with walls, because this coast was exposed to attack from the sea. The town was smaller now, but defended. Arsuf became one of a chain of fortified coastal towns. If you walk the paths and see long lines of stone in the earth, you may be looking at traces of those defences.

Then came the Crusaders. Christian armies from Europe arrived at the end of the eleventh century. Arsuf fell to them in 1101, early in their rule here. For most of the next two centuries, this was a Crusader lordship, with a lord, a castle and a small town inside walls. The name you hear in European chronicles is often Arsur. Same place, slightly different spelling, shaped by French tongues.

The most famous event linked to Arsuf did not happen inside these walls. In 1191, during the Third Crusade, King Richard the Lionheart of England fought the army of Saladin, the great Muslim sultan, on the plain near here. The Crusaders won the Battle of Arsuf. It did not end the war, but it gave Richard's army control of the coast. As you look inland toward the modern city, remember that thousands of armed men once moved across that ground.

Now turn to the castle itself. What you see is mostly from the thirteenth century, the last decades of Crusader rule. It had a deep moat, thick walls and towers facing the land. Toward the end, the military order called the Knights Hospitaller took charge of it. In 1265, the Mamluk sultan Baybars besieged Arsuf. The defenders surrendered, and Baybars ordered the town and castle destroyed. After that, no real town ever grew here again.

Here is a detail many visitors miss. Part of this ruin is falling into the sea, and not because of war. The kurkar cliff is soft. Waves cut into its base, and rain and wind wear it from above. Over the centuries, sections of the castle and the old town have collapsed onto the beach. Engineers have worked to slow the erosion. Look for stone blocks lying below the cliff. Those are pieces of the fortress, still on the move.

Just outside the park stands the Sidna Ali mosque, with its white tower. It is named for a Muslim holy man, a Sufi teacher, who according to tradition lived and died here around the time of the Crusades. For centuries, pilgrims visited his tomb. This means the headland never became completely empty. A thread of memory and prayer stayed here after the castle fell. Ancient ruins and a living place of worship sit side by side.

Before you leave, walk to the edge of the path and look north and south. You will see a long, straight coastline with no natural bays. That is why this small cliff mattered so much. It was one of the few points along this shore that offered height, a view and a defensive position. Each people who lived here saw the same advantage. Each people built on the work of the one before.

So take one last moment. Feel the wind coming off the water. Notice the crumbled edge of the cliff, and the gulls riding the air above the beach. Behind you are the towers and apartments of a modern city. In front of you is a sea that brought traders, soldiers and pilgrims to this exact spot. As you walk back, look down at the pale stone under your feet. It is the same stone that built everything here.