Thursday afternoon marks the beginning of the weekend in Gaza, when most people hit the streets, the restaurants and the beach, but with the ongoing violence and economic crisis, most Gazans have opted for cheaper ways of enjoying the night out.
The cheaper and more popular beach restaurants are packed with families sitting outside to enjoy the soothing sound of the waves and cool breeze.
But Ramadan Malaka, owner of the Sunset beach-front eatery, says trade has slowed following Israel's deadly bombing raid on Gaza on Monday, with his restaurant emptier than usual.
"With the Israeli air strike, people are more cautious and prefer to stay home," says Malaka, 34, who has been in the restaurant business for the past ten years.
Fifteen people died Monday, 13 of them civilians, when an Israeli warplane struck a residential area in Gaza City to liquidate a top military leader of the radical Islamic group Hamas.
"People are depressed by the situation and they don't have money to go out," Malaka says, stressing that he has consistently been losing money since the uprising began in late September 2000.
But he also rents out tables on the beach, allowing families to bring their own food and thus manages to attract customers despite a 70 percent unemployment rate and well over half of the population living in poverty.
Im Mohsen al-Silik, her children and grandchildren did just that, paying 20 shekels (four dollars) for a table at the Sunset restaurant.
"We come here once a month, that's the most we can afford. We used to come here almost every week before the intifada," says Im Mohsen, 60.
"I bring food, this way it's cheaper," she adds.
Further down the beach, Ehab Ziada, 25, and a group of 11 friends are also enjoying an evening out.
"We brought our own tent and will camp here until Saturday," says Ziada, who came from Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip with his pals.
The 12 young men are all unemployed and say they have dreamt of this outing for the past year. They got their tent courtesy of the United Nations when their refugee camp was shelled.
"We just want to feel free. We forget about everything here, even those Israeli boats patrolling in the distance," he says pointing to lights on the horizon.
Back in town, most restaurants are empty but the snack stands and ice-cream parlors are thriving.
People spend six to eight shekels (1.25 to 1.70 dollars) on a sandwich and 1.5 shekels for an ice-cream, while they would pay up to 70 shekels for a restaurant meal.
A large crowd of people fills Kazem Gelati and Sweets ice cream parlor. May, her niece, her best friend and a Filipina maid have just bought themselves multi-colored frozen delicacies from the shop's 10 different flavors.
"Thank God we have this little pleasure left, but believe me life used to be so much better before the intifada when we would go out dancing, dining out and even to casinos," says May, 51.
Casinos closed when the uprising broke out, most were even burnt down by Palestinians along with Gaza's two liquor stores as protests erupted against places of apparent frivolous entertainment in a time of conflict.
"We don't even go to the beach anymore, we're scared of Israeli sea raids," laments Hanin, 25, who says she comes from a middle-class background.
Opposite the ice-cream parlor, hundreds of families are sitting on the grass of the city's central park, another popular free spot.
Others pursue more unusual activities, with one local journalist waiting on the street for a clandestine interview with a gunman - a clear sign of the times.
"But he won't show up, he probably got scared," says Hamada Hamada, nibbling on his ice-cream cone.
In the once-popular Al-Salam fish restaurant, Salah Abu Hassira says he is still in business "because it's better than sitting at home idle."
"I used to have the whole Palestinian Authority dining here, now I get five to 10 people a day if I'm lucky," he says.
He says Gazans rarely come to his restaurant and that he mostly caters to foreigners and journalists instead.
"I decided to offer a take-away service and let people bring their own fish to have it cooked here; it works better than my usual restaurant business," he says.
"One has to adapt to the intifada and the fact that people don't have money."