Jerusalem - first instalment!

Tel Aviv airport is very smart to look at but very poorly signed, and doors are blocked off for no apparent reason, so getting out of the airport and to a shared taxi, or sherut, was surprisingly challenging. It was dark by the time we landed, so we couldn’t see a lot on the journey to Jerusalem, and a woman spent the whole time yapping loudly on her mobile, until the driver, evidently as sick of her as we were, put the radio on loudly. Of course, all that happened was that she yapped even louder.

Arab part of the souk

The hotel is in East Jerusalem, just outside the Herod Gate. 

Herod Gate

It’s Arab owned and has seen smarter days; it’s the usual Middle Eastern thing of not really maintaining stuff, so the walls have been decorated, but they didn’t put down dust sheets, so there are paint splashes on the carpets and furniture; but we were perfectly happy with it, and with the friendliness and helpfulness of the staff. Also we got a good Arab breakfast.

It was a beautifully warm balmy evening, so we went down the road – got an excellent chicken taouk and salad, eating outside, and the first pomegranate juice of the trip. Hurrah! Middle Eastern food! We found an excellent restaurant in the Christian Quarter, and another particularly good Armenian one in the Armenian Quarter, where I had kaghoghi derev. (I have no idea how the “gh” is pronounced; it may be one of those throat clearing noises you get in Arabic and Dutch.)  It was a  yogurty soup with lightly cooked vegetables and a sort of dumpling of minced spiced meat wrapped in vine leaves. It was delicious. We may have to go to Armenia, if they eat like that.

Walking through the souks you get the mouthwatering smell of spices and fresh herbs, and of all the tasty looking fruit and vegetables, which always look so much better than they do in Britain. And then you get to eat them.

Street in the Arab Quarter

We entered the Old City via the Herod Gate into the Arab quarter and down to the Via Dolorosa. Well, I say down, but first you go up. In fact the whole time you’re going up or down. The streets have lots of steps, but it’s all made a little more difficult because the steps have little, six inch wide ramps, sometimes just a lump of tarmac but more often a proper wedge of stone, and the ramps aren’t necessarily in a straight line, so you do have to pay attention to your feet. They use small narrow tractors to haul trailers with goods for the souks, in the evenings, and I suppose the ramps are for those and for hand carts. But bread is delivered by men with huge flat trays on their heads.

 Luckily, we had been warned to take waterproof shoes, because when it rains the streets turn into streams.

You can see the gates between the various quarters – the Armenians in particular are walled in – and you can usually tell where you are. Some Jews have taken over a house in the Arab quarter, and are outside it singing and dancing in. The house is festooned with Israeli flags and there are soldiers permanently on guard. It just seems unnecessarily provocative to me. The Arabs and Christian Arabs are much politer and apparently friendlier than the Jews. The Israeli default setting seems to be surliness, and you see lots of ill mannered pushing in queues, and ill mannered driving.

We decided to start with the Via Dolorosa and the stations of the cross, which are not madly convincing since I doubt that Jesus was forced to tack about and retrace his steps. But there were one or two quite special moments. At the station where Mary is said to have stood to see her son go by, there is an Armenian church. You go down deep into the crypt and there is a Byzantine mosaic, with footprints said to be Mary’s, in a beautiful chapel  with a glorious modern altarpiece. It was so peaceful and had a wonderfully spiritual atmosphere.

"Mary's footprints" - I couldn't take the altarpiece, which
is behind you as you look at the footprints. It's a shame because
it was unusually beautiful 

When we reached the church of the Holy Sepulchre, we had a little detour to see the Ethiopian Coptic Church monks, who have a sort of shanty town on part of the roof, following an almighty row about rights with the Egyptian Copts.  Apparently the roof is in dire need of repair, and the Israeli government has offered to carry out and pay for the repairs, but the Ethiopians won’t leave in case they can’t get back up!

Ethiopian monastery

Ethiopian monastery

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is Crusader on the outside and we learned that they tended to build churches like a fortress, with small and few windows, not what you would call beautiful. It’s obviously in need of repair, and some is going on, but it’s hampered by the arguments between the various churches who have rights – they come to blows, the last time only in 2008. The key to the church is held by a local Muslim family, as none of the Christians trust each other. There’s a ladder high up on the front of the church which can’t be moved, because of a quarrel about rights, and it’s been there since the nineteenth century. It’s not exactly edifying.

Doorway, with the "immovable ladder".

The doorway is Crusader and very handsome, but inside it’s quite a jumble and too many people for any feeling of spirituality. Also I’m not convinced of the genuineness of the sites, except the actual tomb. It was identified as the spot by Empress Helena, mother of Constantine, and the church was consecrated in 325 A.D. I saw a documentary where they had introduced a tiny camera to the tomb, and found first and second century graffiti. Also in the Syrian church’s chapel, which is badly damaged by fire and can’t be repaired because of disagreements about rights (I told you it’s not edifying), there is, hidden away, a rock cut tomb. 

The burnt Syrian chapel

Rock cut tombs

 So I think it’s perfectly possible that early Christians had preserved the knowledge of where Jesus’ tomb was – perhaps particularly visiting the place since they were an underground movement.

Helena went on to discover the true cross and other things which I find a lot less convincing, but underneath the church there is St Helena’s chapel, which is pure Byzantine, complete with mosaic floor and capitols. There’s lots of very old graffiti scratched into the walls as you enter. A party of Korean pilgrims sang Amazing Grace down there while we were there and that was the only moving moment. We didn’t even go into the edicule which covers the tomb, the crowds were too great.

Queueing to enter the edicule

I can’t really say our first visit was an unalloyed success but the advantage of travelling independently is that you can keep going back and spend as long as you like at a sight. So we went back before dinner on Wednesday. This time it was much quieter and we went into the edicule. We sat quietly for a while afterwards – I don’t think either of us quite knew what to think or feel. The nearest I can get to it was that I felt strange. It feels holy – perhaps because of the faith and belief of so many people for almost two thousand years.

We went back again on our last day in Jerusalem. In the edicule an elderly lady was on her knees caressing the stone and loudly kissing it, but I felt it was so powerfully holy that I didn’t dare touch it. I felt as though, if I did, I would get an electric shock. Such is the power of centuries of faith and devotion.

 We also went back to visit the Ethiopians. Their little shabby chapel was open, and so was the Egyptian Coptic church, which was quite plain and small, with a low barrel vault. Underneath is the most amazing place; you go through a narrow, low rock-cut tunnel and down rock-cut steps, to a vast cistern, with deep water and a terrific echo. Apparently it predates the Holy Sepulchre church. A rubber boat was floating in it, and I had a mental picture of these bearded monks coming down here and frolicking on a hot summer day, but apparently it’s left over from filming by a Dutch crew. I’ve got to count the Holy Sepulchre as probably the highlight of the trip.

After our first visit to the Holy Sepulchre, we went to the Wailing Wall. Apparently it was British tommies who gave it that name, and it seems to be politically incorrect, because it’s always signed as the Western Wall. You have to go through security, but it didn’t seem to be taken so seriously – I suppose they are profiling people as no one seemed interested in us, even when the buzzer went off on the metal detector arch. Some Italian women seemed never to have flown, because they kept trying to go through with phones in their pockets and umbrellas in their hands, and held us all up. When you leave there are turnstiles, which I have never liked.

The wailing wall

The western wall plaza was created by demolishing Arab houses. But the Jordanians wouldn’t allow Jews to pray there when they held Jerusalem. It’s difficult to sympathise with either side. The plaza is a hive of activity, with tourists and the religiously inclined. There are separate sections for men and women, and a stall selling the religious gear needed if you take it all very seriously, and some unfortunate boys rigged out in the lot, having their photos taken. I suppose it was their bar mitzvah. I have to say, neither ringlets, nor putting a plastic shower cap over your big hat in the rain, nor going to the other extreme and wearing a coaster held on with a child’s hair clip, do anything for a man’s credibility.

On the Wednesday, we went to Bethlehem. We went to the bus station just a short walk away near the Damascus Gate and easily got a bus. It goes through the separation wall at a checkpoint, which was quick, because we were leaving Israel. Seeing the separation wall is quite troubling, and you can see it make loops to take in a few Jewish settlers houses. You can’t get the same bus back, so we got a taxi to the field where the shepherds washed their socks, and it was the biggest disappointment – no field left at all, it’s a building site. Then the taxi took us to the checkpoint, and we had to walk through. It’s a grim experience.

Entering the checkpoint

Palestinian side of the checkpoint

 You go into a caged walkway, and then a sort of shabby aircraft hangar, with more turnstiles. The Arabs going through had to use a fingerprint reader, and the security woman on the desk was surly and rude, talking on her mobile while dealing with us. The taxi driver had told us he is trapped in a little piece of land – he can’t even take his family to the seaside, and the wall has stolen Palestinian land, which is true. I know the wall has stopped the bus bombings, but it has caused even more hate. The Israelis seem to believe that the status quo can continue for ever, with the Palestinian land gradually being whittled away. But the Berlin wall came down and de Klerk had to release Mandela. The world turns. The support of the Americans won’t continue for ever, and nor will Arab disunity.

Separation wall, with loop to take in pylon

We saw some of the Banksy murals. I think I liked the dove with the bulletproof vest and a laser sight mark on its chest the best. I also liked the reductio ad absurdam of the Israeli soldier checking the identity papers of the donkey.                          

The "door of humility" into the Church of the Nativity

The Church of the Nativity is another Crusader effort over a Byzantine original. It has tiny windows and a door even I had to stoop to get through, which had been reduced in size to make it more of a fortress. It acted as a fortress during the Intifada, and the Christian churches came out of it rather well, refusing to allow the Israeli army to enter the church, or to turn over those who had taken refuge there. There are wooden trapdoors in the floor revealing the Sixth Century mosaics, and there’s also a couple of fine mosaics high on the walls and a fine Sixth Century marble font. The actual birth place (sic) is marked with a silver star and is in a grotto beneath the altar. The Armenians were holding a service there, but we went back a second time for a second look. It seems to take us a while and more than one visit to process things.

The Font

 

We had come equipped with sticky address labels, planning to send our Christmas cards from Bethlehem, but it was difficult to find any for sale. Eventually we found some, went to a café and set up a production line writing and addressing them, then to the Post Office, where a very helpful chap sold us Christmas stamps. We had to use two per envelope to get the right value, and they were old fashioned ones, perforated and requiring licking. The helpful chap lent us his wet sponge, and so we worked away and got them all stamped. Then, when we handed them over the counter, he told us they would almost certainly not be delivered for Christmas. Now he tells us! Apparently they have to go all the way to Amman because of the separation wall.

We also went to the Milk Grotto, where Mary and Joseph are supposed to have hidden during the Massacre of the Innocents. It’s a series of very old caves; Bethlehem and Jerusalem are riddled with them – they were cool places to keep the animals.  But the Nativity church was the one to see.

On the Thursday we took a taxi to the top of the Mount of Olives, with a fantastic view over the Old City and towards the Dome of the Rock, and walked down.   There are a series of churches and shrines to visit as you go down.At the top is a mosque with a little ancient Crusader shrine which is said to mark the site of the ascension. 

Shrine of the Ascension

The Nigerian pilgrims

There was a large party of Nigerian Christians also doing the walk, all dressed in similar clothes in a bright and zingy purple, but not well suited to a cold wet day in December. It didn’t seem to damp their enthusiasm, though. The next spot was the Pater Noster church, which is supposed to mark the place where Jesus taught his disciples the Lord’s Prayer. It had an olive grove, which is very nice, as the mount is now largely covered by a vast Jewish cemetery (because these dead will be the first to resurrected on the final day.) But in Jesus’ time the mount must have been a rural escape from the city.

Next came the Tomb of the Prophets. It seemed to be closed, but as we hung about a bloke came out of his house to show us round. It’s a catacomb with slots for fifty bodies, a prayer hall and a slab for washing and anointing the corpses. It’s supposed to be the tomb of the last three Old Testament prophets, but in fact it’s been dated to about 1,000 B.C. It was extremely atmospheric, as the guide hasn’t torches but gives you each a lighted taper.

Then comes the church of Dominus Flevit (The Lord Wept), supposedly on the spot where Jesus wept over the fate he foresaw for Jerusalem. It’s a lovely church. Next comes the Russian church, with seven gilded onion domes exquisitely pretty and full of superb quality icons. It’s set in beautiful gardens because this is the Garden of Gethsemane. Just fancy being in the Garden of Gethsemane!! Prince Philip’s mother is buried here as she was one of the righteous Gentiles.

The Russian Church, in the Garden of Gethsemane

Then you reach the Church of All Nations, funded by twelve different countries, and wonderfully beautiful, with glorious Byzantine style mosaics and alabaster window panes, very peaceful and contemplative.  It preserves some very ancient olive trees, definitely there in the time of Jesus, and a stone which is said to mark the spot where Jesus suffered the agony in the Garden, and where he was betrayed by Judas. Whether or not it is the stone, the church is built over the ruins of a Byzantine one from about 370 B.C. So this is another holy spot to raise the hairs on the back of your neck. 

Ancient olive

Stone marking the Agony in the Garden

Just before the walls is a church which is supposed to contain Mary’s tomb. The present one is built by the Crusaders in 1130 A.D., and was untouched by the Muslims because, apparently,  Mohammed saw a light over it on his Night Journey to Jerusalem. You go down a very wide flight of red marble steps into a Byzantine crypt, where there is a edicule over the stone which is said to mark Mary’s tomb. But the best bit – the amazing bit! – is the tomb of Queen Melisande is half way down the steps. Queen Melisande!

Steps - Melisande's tomb on the left, half way down.

 I could hardly believe it. Across the steps are some of Baldwin II’s family, but it was Melisande that really thrilled me.

Then you have to cross a busy road and enter the Old City, and enter the Lions Gate, and just inside is the Church of St Anne, which being French run, was closed for lunch. So we got ourselves a late lunch and went back, and it was well worth the wait, as it’s an austerely beautiful Crusader building, just stunning. Apparently it has perfect acoustics and pilgrim groups go especially to sing, but we weren’t lucky enough to catch one of them.

Behind the church are the Pools of Bethesda! Well, how exciting is that? The ruins are very extensive – there were two massive cisterns which provided water for the Temple (water was a major issue, we found, because of all the visitors to the Temple needing purification, which involved a mikvah.) The there’s the smaller pool, which was supposed to have healing properties, where Jesus told the man to take up his bed and walk. Later on, the Romans built an Aesceplium on the site, so they evidently believed the waters had healing powers, too. And there’s the ruins of a Byzantine church built on the site.

The ruins of the pools of Bethesda. You can see
how very deep they were.

By this time it was simply bucketing down and we were wet and cold, so that was the end of our tour for the day, but in spite of the weather, it was just an amazing day.