Acre's citadel has been a prison for much of its life, and the word on the label points to it. The great vaulted fortress in the north-west corner of the old city was built by the Ottomans on the foundations of the Hospitaller halls, and in the nineteenth century it became a feared jail for political prisoners. Bahá'u'lláh was held here in the late 1860s with his family and followers, in crowded and miserable conditions, before being moved to a house in the town. Later, under the British Mandate, the same building held Jewish underground fighters, and a dramatic break-out in 1947 became one of the best-known episodes of that period. Part of the complex is now a museum, and the rooms are open to the public on set hours.
It is a place of thick limestone walls, low arched ceilings, echoing stairs and windows that look onto the sea. The Mediterranean slaps at the base of the walls, and the air carries salt, diesel and frying onions from nearby kitchens. The fortress is also where Napoleon's army broke its teeth in 1799, when a long siege failed, a turning point that is commemorated in the town.
Approaching Acre by motorbike is simple until you reach the walls. The coast road is fast and well surfaced, and traffic is heavy at rush hour, with buses and delivery vans. The area near the harbour has parking for bikes, and the promenade along the sea wall is a pleasant place to stroll.
Practicalities are straightforward. There are fuel stations on the main roads, supermarkets on the edge of town and small restaurants inside the walls, with Acre's population of over forty-five thousand to support them. El Mazra'a, a smaller place a few kilometres north, has fewer services.
Allow a couple of hours to walk the ramparts and the covered markets. In summer, the stone is hot by midday, so an early start and a hat are wise. Spring and autumn are gentler, and winter brings sharp storms that crash against the sea wall.