'We're ready to hang ourselves': Desperate Israeli families crammed into packed ... trends now

According to the tourism review site Tripadvisor, the Dan Accadia Hotel is one of the very finest places to stay in Herzliya, the affluent Israeli coastal city renowned as one of the country's most attractive resorts.

With its trendy restaurants and sandy beaches, this five-star establishment on a clifftop overlooking the tranquil Mediterranean is the perfect setting for a relaxing holiday.

At this time of year, however, with the temperature rarely rising much above 20 degrees C, there are normally plenty of vacancies.

But when I visited the hotel at the end of March, nearly all 200 of its £300-a-night guest rooms and eye-wateringly expensive suites were occupied.

It doesn't take long to work out why. Mother-of-three Inbar Tzuri, 35, is sitting under the shade of a tree in the grounds with her four-month-old son Dekel.

'In any other situation, this would be an amazing place to be on holiday,' she says. 'But we're not enjoying it as it should be.'

Her friend Amit Phillips, 57, adds: 'The five star [rating] is an illusion because this isn't a vacation.'

Inbar and Amit are among the tens of thousands of Israeli families still living in hotels and guest houses across the country after being displaced by the terrorist raid that sparked the war in Gaza.

On October 7 last year, 3,000 Hamas terrorists invaded Israel, murdering around 1,200 people and kidnapping 253. 

In the wake of this bloodbath, around 200,000 people were evacuated from communities in the south, near Gaza, as well as from settlements in the north near the Lebanon border, which come under daily bombardment by the Iranian-backed militants of Hezbollah.

It's the first time in the history of the state of Israel that so many civilians have been evacuated on such a large scale - and for such a long period of time.

While some residents are starting to trickle back to revive their deserted communities, around 135,000 remain displaced.

Five hundred of these are housed at the Dan Accadia. All are refugees from Mefalsim – a kibbutz in the Gaza Envelope, the Israeli zone that borders the Gaza Strip - which was one of the lucky few to escape without any deaths or kidnappings, thanks to the swift response of its security team.

But its residents were evacuated nonetheless and sent 54 miles north to Herzliya, where they have been told by the government they can stay for free and with all meals provided until July 7.

Nearly seven months after the move, the strain is beginning to tell. They may be living in a gilded cage but it is a cage nonetheless. Families, many of whom have at least two children, are living and sleeping in rooms with just one double bed. Bathrooms double up as laundries.

'It's difficult to have any privacy when you're all in one room,' says Inbar. 'No one thought we would be here more than one month.'

Inbar shows me around the hotel's conference rooms, which also function as nurseries and daycare centres. Children laugh and play, oblivious to the horrifying events in the outside world.

The staff have made them look like normal schools. There are small chairs and tables, as well as hooks for bags and coats, which have the pupils' names written above them. Other rooms have been converted into playrooms for smaller children, while a room in the spa downstairs is now a creche for babies.

But this air of normalcy disguises the toll the ongoing crisis is taking on Israel's displaced children, who have lost the comforts of home, their customary routines and a sense of security.

A study by the Israeli Pediatric Association found that 84 per cent of Israeli children suffer from emotional distress, while 69 per cent of them experience anxiety. Psychologists believe they could be witnessing a 'lost generation' in the making.

Inbar's sister-in-law, Mor, 34, tells me that her daughter Na'ma, five, is undergoing therapy for her anxiety: 'She's like my third leg – she just clings on to me all the time, she won't let go.'