It's easy to get lost in Jerusalem and we did. Tiny, hilly winding streets, crammed with mammoth tour buses, tiny cars, and a plenitude of locals and tourists. Managed to find a parking place in the Muslim Quarter and entered the ancient city through the fortified wall at the Damascus Gate. Inside, lining the Via Dolorosa (said to be the path Christ took with his cross to Golgotha), is an unending series of souvenir shops, candy stalls and food booths, interrupted occasionally by a tiny sign indicating one of the stations of the cross. We marched bravely onward to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built--it is said--on the sight of Christ's crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection. Right inside the door is a giant slab of marble on which folks are found prostrating themselves and kissing the stone. Supposedly, it's the stone on which Christ was annointed and wrapped after dying. However, my guide book admits that it was laid there in the1800s so there's something of an historical disconnect.
Stairs near there lead up to Golgotha, supposedly the sight of the crucifixion. You can, and I did, crawl beneath an altar there and stick your hand through a hole to touch that "actual" rock upon which the crucifixion took place. It says something--you decide--that one devout Christian oaf approached the line we were standing in, stepped through to touch a nearby display of the Madonna and "pray," and then continue to stand in line, in front of us! I didn't want to start a shoving match but I couldnt not roll may eyes when he proceed to make his way to the hole under the altar on his knees with head bowed as if in deep prayer. A cheap, cheating showboater!
We made our way next to Christ's tomb, encased in a small church within the much larger church. Thankfully I had visited before because the line of tourists was so long we stood no chance of getting in. We watched the hubbub for awhile and exited the church for some fresh air.
In bad need for a sugar fix, C led us to the Austrian Hospice near the Damascus Gate, now a hotel, that features a lovely cafe where we enjoyed beer, strudel, and what the Israelis call "toast" (essentially a grilled cheese sandwich), all in an aged but spotless old building with a killer roof view of the city, the golden Dome of the Rock almost within arm's reach. On the way, I stumbled across an elderly nun with a cute dog on leash. She introduced me to Tiava, who I called a "sweet dog" to which sister replied, "sometimes sweet." Tiava rolled over on her back and would still be laying there if I'd continued scratching her belly.
We ended the day visiting the Wailing Wall, which is the western wall of the original Jewish temple built by Solomon to house the ark of the covenant. Today it is one of the most revered Jewish sites, where Jews comes to pray, men on the left, women sequestered on the right. You must approach with a covered head (they supply the beanies). You find mostly orthodox Jews at the wall, facing it and bowing and chanting with eyes closed. I am NOT a religious person, but I took the time to write a simple prayer for a very sick sister of a friend of mine in Texas on a slip of paper and placed it in one of the many cracks of the wall, where countless other prayers are found. Jews believe that the wall provides a direct line to God. I made the call...
Finally, although late in the day, we learned we could take a tour of the archeological tunnels that run beneath the temple mount. Only it was in Hebrew. I made C promise to translate, which he sort of did. I didn't understand about 90 percent of then presentation, but I still loved it. Except for the claustrophic tunnels. Once out, we were led by guards through the Muslim quarter for our safety. Gotta say,I never felt the least bit threatened but, as C said, you never know. The whole place is a powder keg.
Tomorrow is yet another of the countless Jewish holidays, Sukkoth. It's an eating, not a fasting, holiday so C is thinking about heading to Mama's for dinner. He probably needs a break from the tourist anyway...
Stairs near there lead up to Golgotha, supposedly the sight of the crucifixion. You can, and I did, crawl beneath an altar there and stick your hand through a hole to touch that "actual" rock upon which the crucifixion took place. It says something--you decide--that one devout Christian oaf approached the line we were standing in, stepped through to touch a nearby display of the Madonna and "pray," and then continue to stand in line, in front of us! I didn't want to start a shoving match but I couldnt not roll may eyes when he proceed to make his way to the hole under the altar on his knees with head bowed as if in deep prayer. A cheap, cheating showboater!
We made our way next to Christ's tomb, encased in a small church within the much larger church. Thankfully I had visited before because the line of tourists was so long we stood no chance of getting in. We watched the hubbub for awhile and exited the church for some fresh air.
In bad need for a sugar fix, C led us to the Austrian Hospice near the Damascus Gate, now a hotel, that features a lovely cafe where we enjoyed beer, strudel, and what the Israelis call "toast" (essentially a grilled cheese sandwich), all in an aged but spotless old building with a killer roof view of the city, the golden Dome of the Rock almost within arm's reach. On the way, I stumbled across an elderly nun with a cute dog on leash. She introduced me to Tiava, who I called a "sweet dog" to which sister replied, "sometimes sweet." Tiava rolled over on her back and would still be laying there if I'd continued scratching her belly.
We ended the day visiting the Wailing Wall, which is the western wall of the original Jewish temple built by Solomon to house the ark of the covenant. Today it is one of the most revered Jewish sites, where Jews comes to pray, men on the left, women sequestered on the right. You must approach with a covered head (they supply the beanies). You find mostly orthodox Jews at the wall, facing it and bowing and chanting with eyes closed. I am NOT a religious person, but I took the time to write a simple prayer for a very sick sister of a friend of mine in Texas on a slip of paper and placed it in one of the many cracks of the wall, where countless other prayers are found. Jews believe that the wall provides a direct line to God. I made the call...
Finally, although late in the day, we learned we could take a tour of the archeological tunnels that run beneath the temple mount. Only it was in Hebrew. I made C promise to translate, which he sort of did. I didn't understand about 90 percent of then presentation, but I still loved it. Except for the claustrophic tunnels. Once out, we were led by guards through the Muslim quarter for our safety. Gotta say,I never felt the least bit threatened but, as C said, you never know. The whole place is a powder keg.
Tomorrow is yet another of the countless Jewish holidays, Sukkoth. It's an eating, not a fasting, holiday so C is thinking about heading to Mama's for dinner. He probably needs a break from the tourist anyway...
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