We went to Jerusalem yesterday for a nice day trip. Its always a lot easier when you've been there before and know the lay of the land. Last time we took a special taxi to the check point (20 shekels - +/- $5) and a bus at the checkpoint for 7 shekies to the Damascus gate then another 25 NIS to the hotel. To get back, we paid 150 NIS ( new Israeli shekel) for a special taxi all the way from the gate, through the checkpoint, to our door for a total of 200 shekies ($50)
Yesterday we took a service taxi (shared, like in Korea) to the checkpoint where we watched a couple of guys being hassled and shoved with a rifle back out a door after already having passed though two security stations. They later got on the bus with us, so I guess it got worked out. The service taxi (pronounced "serrveese" with a rolled r) was just 3 shekies apiece and then the same 3 1/2 apiece to the old city where we got off at the western Jaffa gate instead of the northern Damascus gate. Leaving earlier in the evening, and having paid attention to the bus number and route, we caught the #124 bus back to the checkpoint, but without a service taxi around on the dead-end street willing to go to Beit Sahour, we haggled (knowing how much it should be) with a special taxi to get to our door for 15 NIS. Total 35 NIS instead of 200. Made for an overall happier Mark.
The bus back to the checkpoint was pulled over by the Israeli Armed forces - they had two different uniforms and we weren't sure of the difference because their patches were in Hebrew. I had slightly annoyed the bus driver earlier because when he said yes to Victoria about going to Bethlehem, he was full and only had one seat and then I got on behind her - so we were sitting crammed up front. When we stopped for the machine-gun toting soldiers, V and I got off the bus so the commandos could board . I think it was pretty clear that we were gringos as we greeted them intentionally with a rather dorkie "hello". Since we were standing outside I couldn't see clearly, but they appeared to ask randomly or "suspicious" persons for documentation, going to the back of the bus and then again to the front, grunting at us to get back on the bus when they disembarked. I felt like the Jerusalem riders were rather used to the process because they didn't seem to get as nervous or respond with relief as the people had when we were stopped in Ramallah.
The day in Jerusalem was quite nice and I was more pleased because Victoria was very happy. Entering the Jaffa gate near David's Tower, we made a beeline (I can now find my way through the maze of narrow streets) through the countless shops of the market toward the Dome of the Rock since we had been unable to get into the actual shrine last time. Unfortunately, they had already closed the grounds of Harem esh-Sharif (Temple Mount to the Jews) for non-muslims and when we got home it was suggested that since it was Saturday and the Shabbat, they were closed as a security precaution against "crazy visitors" who might try something, as an Aussie did in the 60's..
Though I question whether it was that or for whatever reason, I do find it interesting that the Israeli's provide armed guards at all entry points to the dome, seemingly to support the notion. We found that out on our first trip when we were curtly redirected to the single gate where non-muslims can enter. Signs posted at the entry say that some chief rabbi has determined that the site is just too holy and has therefore forbidden any Jews from entering the Mount. I think he probably just said that in order to prevent further conflict, but what do I know? Confusing, eh?
Israelites must feel the same way about "crazy visitors" since in order to get to the Western "Wailing Wall", everyone goes through metal detectors and security checks. I also noticed that several jewish tour groups in the city had plain clothed young men who apparently felt the need to be carrying an automatic weapon. While the ones I saw weren't carrying it "at the ready", I certainly felt uncomfortable when the muzzle of the firearm crossed my path.
We were disappointed by not seeing the inside of the Dome where the Well of Souls resides beneath the rock where Abraham was going to sacrifice his kid, and which also bears an archangel's hand print (We think it was Gabriel, but maybe Michael) from when he prevented the rock from following Mohammed and his mystical steed as the
y rose to view Paradise. Actually, though you can not photograph it, the inside of the Dome is supposedly even more beautifully ornate than the outside. Both of us were dressed appropriately so as not to be rejected again and Victoria even had a proper muslim head cover Aria (Mom) had provided.
As we had a plan for the day, we left the Wall now called Western (but it will always be Wailing to me) - and seemingly ironic, the location of the foreigner's gate to the Dome- and headed out the southern most gate of the city - the Dung Gate. Yes, Dung. Supposedly an aptly named gate since, being on the lowest part of the city and its dividing valley, this is where all of the crap draining from the ancient city collected.
We made our way outside the wall east to the Vale of Jehoshaphat (I like that name better
than whatever the other one is) where we could see archaeological remains of the City of David and a view of Mount Zion. Climbing north as we made our way to the Mount of Olives, we passed a large, barren, and rather decrepit looking cemetery where tombs upon white-washed tombs are jumbled together in an ancient necropolis. From here we could see the Golden Gate on the eastern wall where Jesus entered the city on a donkey and where, according to legend, the Messiah will re-enter the city upon the day of the Rapture. It has been walled up by an old Muslim ruler to prevent the prophecy from coming true and thus ending his reign. 
We quietly sat and caught our breath after the hot climb among the olive trees in the tranquil and shaded Garden of Gethsemane. This is where Christ plead for a reprieve and Judas did as he was required for Jesus to fulfill his earthly mission. I've always felt that Judas got a bad rap, and the recently discovered Gospel of Judas I read before coming here supports the notion of Judas as a devout follower and trusted friend of Jesus who had a special place because of the distasteful task he had to preform. It was the other disciples who cowardly fled and denied that they even knew Jesus who besmirched Judas' name in their own defense.
The church at the Garden of Gethsemane
is really quite new having been built in the very early 1900's, replacing an older church which has some remains still visible on the other side opposite the garden. However, having been to literally hundreds of churches in all corners of the world, I found this one to be easily one of the most beautiful on the inside. Really quite simple actually, with purple and red stained glass on all sides, I've rarely responded to sacred architecture as I did here.
Following Jesus' path after his arrest, we entered the Lion's Gate (or St. Stephen's Gate to some) and came to the first station of the cross on the Via Delorosa, the path that Jesus followed after PP washed his hands and sent El Christo Grande to Calvary.
There are 14 stations. The first, where Pilate condemned him is actually behind the wall of an Islamic boys school or something, but we went into the second - a church now stands where he was beaten and given the cross to bear to his place of crucifixion. The various other events of that trek like where he fell( station 3), met his mom, had his faced wiped, was helped by Simon and such, are marked along the way. Some are a little difficult to find, like the ninth, but we found them all, culminating at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre were the last 5 are located - nailed, strung up, lowered, washed, and interred at the place for which the church is named. We documented the path in photos.
We then headed for our favorite restaurant from our last visit where we tried something new. Victoria had a stuffed fried chicken thing and I had the grilled lamb and once again we were both happy with our choices, but I still think the fish I had the first time was the best. The beer was equally refreshing and delicious as it was the first time I was there - in fact, I had two. Macabbees was good enough, but the Palestinian Taybeh pilsner is very good. The Taybeh Dark however, which I've tried previously, is something to be avoided. Not worth even trying, really - just trust me on that.
We tootled around among the shops, bought a couple of things here and there, and decided we were ready to head back to Bethlehem and Beit Sahour. I've described the return trip above and we got home about 6:30. We were tired and ended up napping for a couple of hours, woke for a bit, and then we slept very well behind the wall.
Yesterday we took a service taxi (shared, like in Korea) to the checkpoint where we watched a couple of guys being hassled and shoved with a rifle back out a door after already having passed though two security stations. They later got on the bus with us, so I guess it got worked out. The service taxi (pronounced "serrveese" with a rolled r) was just 3 shekies apiece and then the same 3 1/2 apiece to the old city where we got off at the western Jaffa gate instead of the northern Damascus gate. Leaving earlier in the evening, and having paid attention to the bus number and route, we caught the #124 bus back to the checkpoint, but without a service taxi around on the dead-end street willing to go to Beit Sahour, we haggled (knowing how much it should be) with a special taxi to get to our door for 15 NIS. Total 35 NIS instead of 200. Made for an overall happier Mark.
The bus back to the checkpoint was pulled over by the Israeli Armed forces - they had two different uniforms and we weren't sure of the difference because their patches were in Hebrew. I had slightly annoyed the bus driver earlier because when he said yes to Victoria about going to Bethlehem, he was full and only had one seat and then I got on behind her - so we were sitting crammed up front. When we stopped for the machine-gun toting soldiers, V and I got off the bus so the commandos could board . I think it was pretty clear that we were gringos as we greeted them intentionally with a rather dorkie "hello". Since we were standing outside I couldn't see clearly, but they appeared to ask randomly or "suspicious" persons for documentation, going to the back of the bus and then again to the front, grunting at us to get back on the bus when they disembarked. I felt like the Jerusalem riders were rather used to the process because they didn't seem to get as nervous or respond with relief as the people had when we were stopped in Ramallah.The day in Jerusalem was quite nice and I was more pleased because Victoria was very happy. Entering the Jaffa gate near David's Tower, we made a beeline (I can now find my way through the maze of narrow streets) through the countless shops of the market toward the Dome of the Rock since we had been unable to get into the actual shrine last time. Unfortunately, they had already closed the grounds of Harem esh-Sharif (Temple Mount to the Jews) for non-muslims and when we got home it was suggested that since it was Saturday and the Shabbat, they were closed as a security precaution against "crazy visitors" who might try something, as an Aussie did in the 60's..
Though I question whether it was that or for whatever reason, I do find it interesting that the Israeli's provide armed guards at all entry points to the dome, seemingly to support the notion. We found that out on our first trip when we were curtly redirected to the single gate where non-muslims can enter. Signs posted at the entry say that some chief rabbi has determined that the site is just too holy and has therefore forbidden any Jews from entering the Mount. I think he probably just said that in order to prevent further conflict, but what do I know? Confusing, eh?Israelites must feel the same way about "crazy visitors" since in order to get to the Western "Wailing Wall", everyone goes through metal detectors and security checks. I also noticed that several jewish tour groups in the city had plain clothed young men who apparently felt the need to be carrying an automatic weapon. While the ones I saw weren't carrying it "at the ready", I certainly felt uncomfortable when the muzzle of the firearm crossed my path.
We were disappointed by not seeing the inside of the Dome where the Well of Souls resides beneath the rock where Abraham was going to sacrifice his kid, and which also bears an archangel's hand print (We think it was Gabriel, but maybe Michael) from when he prevented the rock from following Mohammed and his mystical steed as the
y rose to view Paradise. Actually, though you can not photograph it, the inside of the Dome is supposedly even more beautifully ornate than the outside. Both of us were dressed appropriately so as not to be rejected again and Victoria even had a proper muslim head cover Aria (Mom) had provided.As we had a plan for the day, we left the Wall now called Western (but it will always be Wailing to me) - and seemingly ironic, the location of the foreigner's gate to the Dome- and headed out the southern most gate of the city - the Dung Gate. Yes, Dung. Supposedly an aptly named gate since, being on the lowest part of the city and its dividing valley, this is where all of the crap draining from the ancient city collected.
We made our way outside the wall east to the Vale of Jehoshaphat (I like that name better
than whatever the other one is) where we could see archaeological remains of the City of David and a view of Mount Zion. Climbing north as we made our way to the Mount of Olives, we passed a large, barren, and rather decrepit looking cemetery where tombs upon white-washed tombs are jumbled together in an ancient necropolis. From here we could see the Golden Gate on the eastern wall where Jesus entered the city on a donkey and where, according to legend, the Messiah will re-enter the city upon the day of the Rapture. It has been walled up by an old Muslim ruler to prevent the prophecy from coming true and thus ending his reign. 
We quietly sat and caught our breath after the hot climb among the olive trees in the tranquil and shaded Garden of Gethsemane. This is where Christ plead for a reprieve and Judas did as he was required for Jesus to fulfill his earthly mission. I've always felt that Judas got a bad rap, and the recently discovered Gospel of Judas I read before coming here supports the notion of Judas as a devout follower and trusted friend of Jesus who had a special place because of the distasteful task he had to preform. It was the other disciples who cowardly fled and denied that they even knew Jesus who besmirched Judas' name in their own defense.
The church at the Garden of Gethsemane
is really quite new having been built in the very early 1900's, replacing an older church which has some remains still visible on the other side opposite the garden. However, having been to literally hundreds of churches in all corners of the world, I found this one to be easily one of the most beautiful on the inside. Really quite simple actually, with purple and red stained glass on all sides, I've rarely responded to sacred architecture as I did here.Following Jesus' path after his arrest, we entered the Lion's Gate (or St. Stephen's Gate to some) and came to the first station of the cross on the Via Delorosa, the path that Jesus followed after PP washed his hands and sent El Christo Grande to Calvary.
There are 14 stations. The first, where Pilate condemned him is actually behind the wall of an Islamic boys school or something, but we went into the second - a church now stands where he was beaten and given the cross to bear to his place of crucifixion. The various other events of that trek like where he fell( station 3), met his mom, had his faced wiped, was helped by Simon and such, are marked along the way. Some are a little difficult to find, like the ninth, but we found them all, culminating at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre were the last 5 are located - nailed, strung up, lowered, washed, and interred at the place for which the church is named. We documented the path in photos.We then headed for our favorite restaurant from our last visit where we tried something new. Victoria had a stuffed fried chicken thing and I had the grilled lamb and once again we were both happy with our choices, but I still think the fish I had the first time was the best. The beer was equally refreshing and delicious as it was the first time I was there - in fact, I had two. Macabbees was good enough, but the Palestinian Taybeh pilsner is very good. The Taybeh Dark however, which I've tried previously, is something to be avoided. Not worth even trying, really - just trust me on that.
We tootled around among the shops, bought a couple of things here and there, and decided we were ready to head back to Bethlehem and Beit Sahour. I've described the return trip above and we got home about 6:30. We were tired and ended up napping for a couple of hours, woke for a bit, and then we slept very well behind the wall.
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