I made the decision to pop across the border today to Israel, specifically the old city of Jerusalem. Despite the recent “debacle”, the coast (excuse the pun) looks clear for now so I thought that I’d duck in and out. Talk to anyone about crossing the Jordanian/Israeli border and you’ll be put off in a second with all the procedure that’s involved. In truth though I found it to be quite a smooth (if a little drawn out) process. Perhaps it’s because I look so innocent and harmless with Norbert hanging out of my backpack. I could have caught a bus from the main station in Amman, but you have to wait for these to fill up before they leave, so I paid up for a cab……less hassle and quicker as I could get to the border in about 40 minutes. And where else would you get your Jericho-born Jordanian cab driver telling you Bible stories on your trip. Only he knows where the REAL baptism site is! It’s all a little weird as the cab can’t take you the last little bit so you meet some other random cab that’s waiting for you in the middle of nowhere and it takes you the last little bit. This whole cab journey sees you back in The Rift Valley and it was lovely to be back in the desert and out of the hustle and bustle of Amman. Once you get to the border, there’s very little direction so you just have to sort of feel your way through the process. First there are security checks and then you see passport control. You have to ask them not to stamp your passport (that’s if you want to go to certain other countries on that same passport). You then have to get on a bus with your bag and it’s here that you get your passport back and also pay 3JD for the 5min journey between the two borders. There’s no alternative. In no-mans-land the bus was stopped once or twice whilst someone bordered, checked us over and let us proceed. Once at the Israeli border, your suitcase gets taken off you and x-rayed and then you show your passport the first time (you have to show it about 5 times before you reach the exit!). Passport control is next and again you have to ask them not to stamp it. They then give you the third degree, but you know they’ll co-operate anyway, so you just go along with it. “Why don’t you want it stamped?”. “Because I want to go to other countries.” “What other countries?” “Like Syria.” “Why do you want to go to Syria?” “I don’t. But if I did. Look…it’s a new passport and I don’t want to limit myself.Ok!?!?!?” “Ok.” Breathe. Next you grab your bag and head out to find a minibus. Done. The whole process from start to finish only took about 1-1.5hrs and with stories of it taking 3hrs, I was happy. Most of the wasted time is due to tourists complaining because they have to catch the bus between the borders…and pay for it! Most of the staff seem to be females and at the checkpoint crossed on the way to Jerusalem, they were nearly all young girls with semi-automatic weapons.
The drive to Jerusalem is only about 30kms and you pass many ramshackle bedouin camps on the way in the desolate landscape. We drove right beside Jericho and Temptation Mount. The thing is, the landscape here looks like a mine or something, and I can’t believe that all the sandy hills are where they were 2000 years ago. So how do they know that that particular mount is Temptation Mount? Sorry if I’m sceptical, but it does make you wonder. There are other sites that raise the same questions for me. Anyway, forgetting that, whether you believe it all or not, this is a land of mystery and vivid stories. The place names are those of fairytales and legend. The places that are from your Sunday School stories, not real, live places, but here I am standing right in those spots and it really is incredibly surreal.
Arriving at the old city of Jerusalem, I entered the Damascus Gate which leads you into the almost Disneyland like souks of the Muslim Quarter. This is supposed to be where the cheap accommodation is. There are lots of different hospices which are supposed to be good, cheap travellers’ accommodation. I was directed to the Armenian Hospice and at (what I thought was) £25/night, it was a bargain. A very basic bargain, but clean and central. I had to go and find an ATM to get some schakel (no mean feat…they really are few and far between!) and came back triumphantly with the balance owed to find out that the price he quoted was just for one night, not two (even though I had checked that. Thief!). Seeing he already had most of my money, I thought I’d stay here tonight and look for something else tomorrow.
Right. My hospice is on the Via Dolorosa (Way of the Sorrows….the 14 stations of The Passion), so nice and handy. The whole route really isn’t very long, but it is very interesting. The people are all really friendly and you can only try to stop them helping, directing and passing information onto you. They’re all really genuine about it too. They just seem so pleased with the whole place and history and can’t wait to share it, whether they’re Muslim, Jewish or Christian. There is some doubt as to whether this route is THE precise route as historians have other ideas. That’s why I find it a little strange the fervour with which people undertake this walk. Anyway….it works for them. The first station is within a muslim boys’ school and proves some super views of The Temple Mount. The children here are evil though. One possessed child stole Norbert and wouldn’t give him back. Plain evil, I say! Station 2 is the Church of the Condemnation and the Church of the Flagellation. These are Franciscan run. I love how everyone gets a little bit of Jesus…the Franciscans and the Greek Orthodox in particular. The Church of the Condemnation still has original Roman road inside it and carvings made by Roman soldiers on the pavement. Station 3 is just a corner where Jesus was supposed to have fallen and station 4 was where he faced his Mum. Station 5 is where Simon supposedly took the cross off Jesus and there is a rock in the wall here that legend says Jesus lent on. Ok then. Station 6 is where Veronica wiped Jesus’ face with a cloth. Up until this point, the whole path is within the Muslim Quarter, taking you deep, deep within the souk. The market place here is brilliant. The crazy labyrinth of any souk, but its covered and really clean. All of the shops are really well looked after. By Station 7 and 8 you’re starting to enter the Christian Quarter and by Station 9 (where Jesus fell a third time), there’s a great little hole-in-the-wall. St Helena’s Chapel is here (she was the mother of Emperor Constantine and it was she who decided where Calvary was 300 years after Christ. It was a pagan temple at the time) and if you enter, it takes you to this huge underground cistern (I only knew this as one of the locals took me in). It was also here that Jesus was supposedly jailed for a few hours before his cross ordeal. I saw the cell, but I suspect its history could be ominous. who knows. Opposite is the Ethiopean Compound which is old and authentic.Next its into the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Spirit) where the rest of the stations are located. Inside the church, you have to walk some steep little stairs to reach Calvary. This area is divided up…Franciscans on one side and Greek Orthodox on the other. The Franciscans get the nailing onto the cross bit and the Orthodox get the cross on the hill bit. It’s weird to think that this is/was actually a hill, as it’s really just the inside of a church, but there is bare rock below, so there you go. It’s funny to compare the subdued tones of the Franciscans and the glitz and glamour of the Orthodox half. There’s no mistaking who looks after which bit! People were crawling into a hole, talking or kissing or something a picture of Jesus and sticking their hand in a hole. What the…? Anyway, I was there so I couldn’t resist a go. When it was my turn, I had no idea what I was supposed to do so I just crawled into the hole bit, said hello to Jesus, stuck my hand in the hole and left to take a photo of Norbert in front of the whole thing. Not sure if you’re suppose to be taking pictures of your sheep in a place like that, but then why should he miss out?? Next it was down the stairs to Jesus’ tomb. Wasn’t he buried in a cave in the side of a cliff or was I not paying attention at Sunday School? Today it’s like a big hall and someone’s built a free standing chapel in it. Perhaps Jesus was buried here somewhere, but this concrete room definitely wasn’t it, so again I’m at a point where I don’t get all the people lining up in crowds to walk in and out. If it works for them. Great. I just don’t get it. It’s good for people watching though. People undertaking their rituals. And Norbert had another photo taken. There are some beautiful hidden corners to this church and it’s worth a wander around. Ok…my last bit of scepticism for the moment. There’s a big slab of stone at the entrance to the church. People throw themselves over it and kiss it and wipe it with cloth to take with them and I even saw a group place their touristy Jerusalem bags on it to soak up the energy, I guess. This stone is believed to be the one on which Jesus’ body was laid out and anointed. The thing is, the slab was only placed there in 1810, so I don’t know. Anyway, like I said, the place is no less amazing, in fact this city could possibly be one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been to.
If you go up onto the roofs, you can see Jerusalem laid out in front of you and you can see how the different Quarters relate to each other. Christian, Muslim, Jewish and Armenian, and it is these four backgrounds which make up the Jerusalem Cross. The wonderful thing is how all the religions co-exist so happily together. I don’t for one minute think that it was always so. It wasn’t, and I’m sure there’s still friction today. But I think there giving it a darn good go. Also from the roofs you can look down into the market streets, however there’s mesh above them as the Jewish and Muslim Quarters are side-by-side and in times past they used to through stones down on each other. Nice.
Next destination was The Western Wall (or The Wailing Wall). This is the retaining wall of the second Jewish Temple and is the most sacred spot in Judaism. The Jews originally would pray at this wall after the Temple’s destruction as they they were unsure of The Temple’s layout and didn’t want to walk on the Holy of Holies, so they just remained outside at the wall. This area has an interesting history. Jews lost access to it in 1948 when the Jordanians took over the whole city. Nineteen years later Israeli paratroopers reclaimed the Old City in The Six Day War. By this stage Arab houses had been built quite close to the wall, but these were quickly bulldozed and now the whole area in front of the wall is just one, big, open space. Anyone can go right up close to the wall, but men and women are still segregated. There are also lots of little pieces of paper stuck into the wall carrying written prayers. There really is quite a lot of emotion going on here, people rocking to and fro, faces pushed into Torahs, contorted with lament. This is the place of the Hasidim Jew and it really is quite strange to see those hats and hair dos up close. I stood there inthralled for minutes just watching all this unfold in front of me. It wasn’t just on tv anymore. It was real.
Next it was back to the hospice with my poor, aching feet.
XXX
