Hedge Funds To Hedgerows

Distance walking is an interesting undertaking. Funnily enough I find the steep and difficult walks a lot easier than the flat walks. I seem to go faster up hills. Maybe I was a mountain goat in a past life. Nah….maybe a snow leopard. Sounds better. There’s also more to think about, like where you’re putting your feet. Flat walking can get monotonous. Gives you way too much time to think. I already think too much. Always analysing and philosophising. And with today, Day One of the walk being 14 miles of basically flat walking, I had life, the universe and everything all figured out five times over. I mean, I think I’ve solved every global issue that has ever existed whilst walking on the flat (or was that on IB chat with Mr Marchant??!?!) Drives me insane.

The first task of the walk is to race down to the beach at St Bees and pick up a pebble. This is to be carried for the duration of the walk and thrown into the North Sea at the end of the walk in Robin Hood’s Bay. The walk doesn’t officially start however, until your pebble and feet have made contact with the Irish Sea. Mission complete and off we went! It’s a little disconcerting initially as the first few miles of your trek east are actually directly north. It’s a nice coastal ramble though. By the end of the day, I was surprised how well the body pulled up. Everything felt good after the 7.5hrs. Except perhaps for my already dodgy right shoulder. I must say though the day pack feels heavier than it should, but with just the essentials of waterproofs, water, maps and food, it was basically impossible to lighten. I felt like our Mongolian packhorses from a few weeks ago. My heart went out to them!! Ok, so perhaps the nail oil, mascara, hand cream, lip gloss and essential oil could have been left out, but it’s nice to make oneself feel a bit more gorgeous over the slightly-to-long lunch break!

XXX

Sunday it was time to race back to London to pick Mum up from Terninal 3. It wasn’t as smooth sailing as i thought. Frankfurt airport was a nightmare. More and more I am concerned about where that good old German efficiency has gone! Having made Heathrow, and thinking my troubles were over, I found the Iris scanner out of action. Never a good thing when you’re an “alien”, as they like to call us. Time to roll up the sleeves and get ready for the third degree. And I wasn’t to be disappointed. In fact, I was lucky to make it back into the country, not even thinking that no visa PLUS no airline ticket out of the old dart is never a good combo. Giving a bit of cheek never really goes down well either. Oh well, I got the stamp and stormed off as the girl was still ranting. Right. Back on track. Found Mum and then was kindly picked up by Scott. Thanks Scott!!

No rest for the wicked and next stop was Kensington. There’s no way I could be that close to Wholefoods and not pay a visit. That would be sacrilege! Of course Mum loved the cashew ice-cream and green juice. 😉 Next stop….Cotswolds. The area never ceases to impress and charm one to the core. We were staying at Bourton-On-The-Water and there could hardly be a more delightful place..…and it has a laundrette. A bonus when you’ve a suitcase of dirty clothes. The next few days were spent reacquainting ourselves to this sunny little corner of England. Bourton, Bibury, Cheltenham and the family favourite, Lower Slaughter. The hotel at Lower Slaughter is lovely, but don’t bother eating there. It’s supposed to be a fairly classy restaurant, but they had no salad as the supplier hadn’t made it that day. Really??? Serious?? You’re about two hours from the centre of London and 2 minutes from the local Spar!!! Note to self, restaurant….MUST TRY HARDER!!!

After a few easy-going days, it was time to head north to Kirkby Stephen to drop off the car and then St Bees get ready for the inevitable!! St Bees is on the western coast and it’s here that Arthur Wainwright’s Coast to Coast walk starts. We had a day to “acclimatise”, so to speak. Well, to be fair, it is a touch cooler up north here!

I love Germany. I think that time and frequent visits have made it so. It was never a country where the first time I landed I thought, “Wow! Germany!” I love it in a cozy, old friend kind of way. I know what to expect and I know where to find things now. Though I must say I was shocked by the lack of the taken-for-granted German efficiency with the trains this time round. Thirty minutes late and no air/con. What the…? Anyway, I landed in Frankfurt after a delayed Russian flight (no surprises there), and it was then a 4.5hr train trip up to Berlin, so the chances of me joining in the World Cup Final craziness were becoming slimmer and slimmer until they were non-existent. Oh well.

I’ve never been to Berlin before and it was brilliant. One of those cities you could all too easily live in, as many expats do. The history is not altogether pleasant, but I admire how upfront Berlin is about it. The city doesn’t try to hide away it’s Nazi past, but fully acknowledges that it happened and that’s that. That’s a brave attitude. Respect, Berlin. The days I was there it was mid 30C and I was exhausted from Mongolia, so perhaps I didn’t do the city justice, but I think I gave it a good shot. Alexander Platz, Brandenberg Gate, The Hollacost Memorial, The Topography of Terror Museum (set on the site where the Nazi’s ran the concentration camps), Neues Museum, Alters Museum, The National Gallery and The Olympic Stadium. It was here that a lovely couple showed me around the horse complex which was originally a racetrack. It’s a lovely spot and an agistment centre today (I also met their gorgeous horses!). They also showed me where the British military used to train their horses and where Hitler used to run the whole German sporting effort.

Checkpoint Charlie was also a must see. There’s a great little museum here describing the history of the Berlin Wall. It’s small, cramped and stuffy, but well worth the effort.

Two “guides on the ground” Clement and Marco had recommended the Neues Museum, and I’m glad I took their advice (thanks guys!). The museum houses mainly Egyptian artefacts (including the famous bust of Nefertiti), which is good enough in itself. The standout though is the way they’ve presented the actual building….like a big Egyptian tomb. Wonderful.

From Berlin, it was time to head down to the best show on earth…..AACHEN! The CHIO really deserves its billing and I’m thinking it may well have to become an annual event. The atmosphere, the competition, the shopping and mainly the people that you’ll find there. It was great to catch up with old friends, and new ones alike. Carolus Thermen is nothing to sneeze at either.

Mongolia. Where to start. I guess the first obstacle to overcome was surviving flights on Aeroflot, Ezines Airways and Aero Mongolia. Tick, tick and tick, even if Aeroflot did lose my luggage (big thanks to EVERYONE on my trip who helped me out!) and the only meal they serve is fish spam. I love how the passengers on Aeroflot still clap when the plane lands. Says something, me thinks. So lost baggage and then I’m left at the airport by my group before we had even started. Not the best of starts. No use getting upset though. What’s the point. The way forward is to charm some bloke to give you a lift to your hotel. Plus my group was easy to forgive. I couldn’t have asked to travel with a better group of people. Usually there’s one or two to have a moan about, but no such cases in this group. They were all super fab.

Mongolia certainly didn’t disappoint. Many surprises were had and they were all uber positive, starting with night one when we hit the heady lights of Ulaambaatar to watch England v Germany in the World Cup. These guys know how to party! The place went off, and we couldn’t ask for a more brilliant start to our trip, even if there were one or two sore heads the next day. Why wait for the last night to go crazy and let your hair down?? Some of us (ok…just 3) made it to the museum the next morning. Hardcore. That afternoon it was time to fly up to Moron, a sleepy little town in northern Mongolia. From here we travelled up to The Reindeer People of East Taiga on our little Mongolian ponies. Nothing but utter respect for those little guys. Tough as old boots. I loved my little mare to pieces. They have to be tough as the country is unforgiving. With temperatures as low as -70C this Winter, about 10% of the animals died. We experienced temperatures as low as freezing and as high as mid 30C. I’ve never been so cold as the day we got caught in a storm and I only had shirt sleeves on only to then be attacked by man/horse-eating flies the size of small birds on other occasions when the sun was at its hottest. Our group was definitely tough enough to survive in this unforgiving terrain. If someone had told me that 7 people could get through 22 bottles of vodka and 10 bottles of wine in less than two weeks, I would never had believed it. Just goes to show what you can achieve when you put your mind to it.

Seeing I’m still travelling and a little bit lazy, I shall now direct you to Richard Dunwoody’s blog on the Wild Frontier’s website (www.wildfrontiers.co.uk). Richard was “Dad” on the trip, looking after us all and I secretly think he liked having a group of hot chicks by his side for two weeks. Nice one, Richard. Top bloke who’s had (actually…he’s STILL having!) an extraordinary life. You’re a diamond! Also….my photos are on facebook.

XXX

Back to Somerset to The Manor House to hang with Judes and the team for a few days. Are there a kinder, more open and honest group of people in the world? I think not. It’s exciting times for the team with Susie Anthony, shaman and transformer extraordinair hitting new levels of growth for herself and those around her. Susie has a regular spot on David Gibbon’s internet radio network (www.davidgibbons.org and www.theheroseries.com). The series is about the real Hero’s Journey. Please listen to it. It will change your world. Amazing guests await you including Kevin Sorbo, Barry Eisler and John Perkins.

It was beautiful being in Somerset during hay harvest too. These people are so in tune with the seasons. It’s such a natural way to live. It all makes sense. I had the privilege to ride Cassie the little Arab who gave me the freedom I’ve not experienced for sometime. I’m never one to venture too far out of the dressage arena, so to gallop up along the Mendip Hills was a humbling treat.

XXX

Sorry I haven’t blogged for an age. Seemed pointless in London and not possible in Mongolia. So, now I shall backdate…….sort of.

Back in London. It was very weird. Mixed emotions though I must say the initial feeling was one of fear, trepidation and wonder at why I was undertaking such a pointless task. Reliving your past when it had only just become as such. Holding on to that which had already been? Possibly. Kind of silly really. No point looking back or grasping on with finger nails. Perhaps I just momentarily faced myself in the wrong direction. Back instead of forward. How can I have regrets about leaving such a dull, grey, polluted city? Anyway…there I was and I was going to make the most of it. It’s never dull or pointless catching up with best friends, so in that respect, London was an utter success. Stayed with Yoli and her super friends. Thanks guys for putting me up! Robbo’s 40th x2 was brilliant. Robbo….you rock! Back having city drinks made me start wondering whether I’d made the right decision to leave the banker boys, but I think I’ll survive with irregular visits. It’s always hard to say a temporary farewell to friends who have helped you transform as a person. Heard your whining and never complained. Supported you in every twist and turn on the crazy road of life. Robbo……you’re a star. Even if you are a Pom who supports the British Lions. At least you took my Wallaby to the HK Sevens. And Yoli……wise beyond your years, girl. And a siren to boot! We’ll laugh about it all one day. You know it.

It was also great to see Ant. Remember Ant….we may not have each other, but we’ll always have our love!! hahaha. Don’t ever change, son.

Next it was off to Todd’s Rare Species Conservation Centre for his Summer do. Ping the baby Otter is perfect, as is my new adopted child. I’m now the proud parent of an emperor tamarin.

XXX

The other thing that’s interesting about changing your life around a bit is the discovery of who your friends are are who aren’t. I mean real friends. And it can often be a bit of a shock who’s on which list. But I guess, it’s another lesson in detachment and accepting what is and where people are in their lives. Surely I’ve worked that out by now, but it still surprises me sometimes.

Came other to North Cornwall yesterday. Yes, I hear you…..surely I could have found somewhere closer to London seeing I’m heading back that way. I found myself at Tintagel. This is a place of legend, magic and faerie people. It’s another powerful part of the world and features very strongly in the story of King Arthur. Tintagel Castle, right on the jagged coastline is where legend says King Arthur was born. A cave in the cliff just below is called Merlin’s Cave, where the old magician lived and educated the young Arthur. From the village you can take a lovely walk along an old wooded track used by pilgrims since about 500AD to St Nectan’s Glen and Waterfall. The place takes its name from an old hermit who lived here, far away from everyone. Irish mythology will tell you that Nectan was a wise water god and guarded the sacred well here. The place is full of legend of ghosts of different kinds including chanting monks and two grey women. The other story associated with the place is Arthurian. It is believed that the legendary old king came here with his knights of the round table to be blessed before their quest. It’s a perfect little spot and there are messages and ribbons tied to the trees and bushes, prayers and offerings to those in high places. And whether it was the light or the spray or the supernatural, there are orbs everywhere here. The site is a designated Site of Special Scientific Interest and is one of the ten most spiritual sites in the country. There is also a little meditation room further up the track near the hermitage, complete with lots of pagan water gods and goddesses.

Further along the trail is Rocky Valley. Here is found the remains of an old mill and also, on the cliff are small, carved finger labyrinths believed to be from the Bronze Age. They’ve weathered well if they’re from that age (1800-1400BC), but who am I to be sceptical! The track then winds along the cliffs by the coast, back to the start.

Next was my least favourite time of the day…..finding accommodation. I almost gave up all hope until an old lady, who wasn’t going to take anyone in that night, felt sorry for me and put me up! Good price too!

XXX

Anyway……the border crossing back from Israel to Jordan was another smooth event. Apart from several check points along the way which are a little time consuming, I don’t really know what all the fuss is about. Maybe I just got lucky. And with no stamps in my passport, I officially was never there!!! From the border, I made my way up to about as far north as you can manage in Jordan. Umm Quais is tucked up into the north west corner, right on the border of both Israel (well, the Israeli occupied territory of the Golan Heights to be precise) and Syria. The journey north was nearly all through the very fertile Jordan Valley and each town passed was bustling and had many agriculture-related shops. There’s also an agricultural research centre up here. Every town you pass through is covered with posters of the king. He’s a multi-talented man, by the looks of it. He can shoot a gun, drink coffee, use a computer and hang with the family. He has an outfit for every occasion…..western formal, smart casual, smart military, fatigues, bedouin. And different poses….action, happy, serious, relaxed, happy, somber, facial hair, clean shaven, combed down look, dishevelled. It makes me wonder what he thinks of it all when he’s having these photo sessions.

Umm Quais is probably most famous from the Bible story of Jesus casting out demons from two men and sending them into little piggies who then ran off the side of a cliff into the Sea of Galilee. They must have been flying piggies because although the Sea of Galilee (or Lake Tiberius as it is known today) is just a stone’s through away, you’d probably need someone like Brett Lee throwing that stone.

Umm Quais’ ancient name was Gadara and it’s had a very long and colourful history. Perfectly situated on trade routes, it was a very important Roman town (one of the cities of the Decopolis) and later Byzantine. Today, the ruins consist of structures from both eras. There are many churches giving credence to the fact that it was possibly a pilgrimage site (because of the Jesus story). It’s not a Jerash, but interesting to see, all the same.

Next it was time to head back to Amman and my Ibrid bus station adventure. Oh…and another thing Mr Store Man….a falafel sandwich with salad is not a meat filled pastry with tomato sauce. Ok!?!?

Finally back in Amman, my new driver knew a better hotel than the one I was going to use, so taking his advice, we went there. It was pretty rubbish, but probably no more so than where I was heading. And it was cheap. Plus, I hadn’t eaten all day, so anything was going to do. Oh, and Mr Driver…….3 star actually isn’t 5 star, just so you know! They’ll tell you anything. It’s almost becoming funny!

The afternoon was restful with tabouli and my computer.

XXX

It’s quite good being an Australian. Everyone tends to like you. You can be friends with most anyone from any country. Perhaps thats why I like Israel. Everyone wants to confide in you with their own viewpoint and you can just agree with all of them!

There seemed to be a little more tension in the air today. It just all seemed a little more tangible. Perhaps it’s just my perception. Or perhaps it was because it was Holy Day for both Muslims and Jews. The police were at the gates early screening most people. Later in the day Jews were scurrying quickly through the Muslim Quarter, eyes straight ahead. Many do seem to have a real air of arrogance about them, but maybe it’s just fear. I mean of course it’s fear. That’s what arrogance always is (They were a lot more relaxed and happy in the Jewish Quarter, funnily enough!). An old Muslim man turned to me and said loudly so that they could here, “Everything would be alright if the Jews weren’t here. Just look at them! Ah, but you. You are very welcome here.” Then I was basically told by an old Arab man that it was my fault that Israel was in the mess it was in. Wow! Never knew I had such power!! I’m going to use that to try and influence people/ situations in the future!!” His friends couldn’t apologise more. They didn’t want the clientele upset. So you see, it seems everyone just tolerates everyone else here. Perhaps that’s all that can be hoped for in a place of such friction. It’s such a shame. Jews, Muslims and even Christians. They have all had a past here, a home here. I think all sides need to stop wanting “all” and be happy with “some”. The former just doesn’t work. That’s been proved time and time again. I also don’t get the whole “ownership” of a “holy site”. None of us really own anything, and in a place like this, it’s just impossible to differentiate such a position. There needs to be some give from all sides. The fear needs to be taken out of the whole equation. Fear and victimisation. Every group here has suffered at one point in time. The Jews believe no one likes them, the Arabs believe the Jews don’t like them, the Armenians have had to deal with genocide in the past as well and the Christians…..actually, I think the Christians have had it pretty good since the lion-eating Roman times. It’s time to get over it all. Holding onto past persecutions as an excuse to have things or be a certain way, is just not helping. Maybe that’s judgmental and out of place coming from me who has never suffered, but it’s just my observation from the outside looking in. Gee….I’d make such a good diplomat!!!

Anyway..….a day of adventure was had! There was lots to do and really not enough time and the first point of call was Qamran. This little town is mostly famous as being the place where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found just by chance by some local shepherds. I was really only expecting to see some caves in a cliff (of which I would have been more than happy!), but it turns out that there was a fabulous and very important little Essene settlement alive and well (it was actually probably this lot who wrote the scrolls) from around 200BC until the 68AD whe the Romans kicked them out during the great Jewish Revolt. The ruins are still there and although not extensive, were super. These guys loved to be clean and there are immersion pools everywhere. The steps into the pool were divided to make sure you didn’t come in contact with a dirty person going into the pool as you were going out! You can also see the refractory where they ate in silence and the scribe room where they wrote the scrolls. They also liked making a bit of pottery and you can still see several kilns.

Next it was onto that king of sites, Masada!! Even the name sounds powerful! This Herodian (well, it was already here, but he did a lot of work to it!) fortress built on a huge mesa was the final front of the Jewish freedom fighters (who had earlier taken it from the Romans…confusing!) against the Romans which marked the end of the Kingdom of Judea in 74AD. The Romans laid siege to the massive fortress and you can still see the breaching point today as well as the remains of the Roman camps below. Amazing! Before all this drama, Herod had built for himself a couple of flash little palaces up here, one of whose design looks rather modern, being terraced down the cliff face. Very nice indeed! This place is very popular with tourists, so you have to have good elbows and pretend you don’t know which way the arrows are pointing. I only had about an hour to see a site where you need 3! Way too rushed. And because I’m a bit tight with my coin at the moment, I walked (well….walked/ran) down the cliff instead of paying up for the cable car to take me down. Takes longer obviously, but you get a real feel for the immensity of the place. The views out to the Dead Sea are also pretty special.

Next it was time to laze in the Dead Sea. I think today may have been the hottest day so far, so the timing was perfect. Kalia Beach was actually pretty good and not too crazy with tourists. You cover yourself with mud which you have to scrape up off the bottom of the sea, slow cook yourself, then swim it all off. Leaves your skin baby bottom smooth.

Refreshed, it was on to Jericho. This Palistinian town is really quite poor, but has a wealth of history about it. It is the lowest city in the world and rivals Damascus as the oldest continuously inhabited city. You can still walk amongst the ruins of the old city, but you really have to use your imagination as there have only basically been some trenches dug. I’n not sure why they haven’t done more. Time? Money? Security? You can see the old walls though and they look fairly standing to me (maybe the ones that Joshua blew down are underneath). To be fair, they do show evidence of attack, so who knows. The backdrop to Jericho is The Mount of Temptation where Jesus supposedly hung out for 40 days and 40 nights, tempted by the devil. Today there is an amazing monastery that hangs off its side. When he was done, Jesus made his way down to Jericho where a vertically challenged man called Zachariah climbed up into a tree to see him and later invited him home to tea. The remaining dead but still tangible trunk of that sycamore tree is still able to be seen. That same, extact tree. I’m not saying anything.

The final stop was Hisham’s Palace. This was a Umayyad construction ( you may remember that lot from the citadel in Amman) and the palace was built in about 743AD. It was actually a Winter hunting retreat (think the Balmoral of its day) and was discovered to have the most magnificent of mosaic floors. The very famous Tree of Life can still be seen here in the bath complex. They were, on the whole, pretty impressive ruins, and it’s a shame more people don’t get to see them.

Time to head back to Jerusalem and to soak up a bit of the atmosphere (including fireworks that sound like bombs and imams that sing out of tune, all at once and LOUDLY!). Being Shabbat (Jewish sabbath), I revisited The Western Wall, and just when you thought hats couldn’t get any sillier, out they come! Today’s hat of choice was a high, round bearskin number. Perhaps I should learn about the background of it all before making smart alec comments, but I still just don’t get the hat and ringlets. Grown men with ringlets. It’s just not right! It’s all very family orientated though with the old really taking the young in hand. All inclusive! And it was lovely to see. The thing that just blows you away though (no pun intended) is the sight of really young (in their 20s, at a guess) guys and girls in their Friday best with an M16 slung over their shoulder whilst they say their prayers. Well I never!

XXX

Slow down Jesus, you move too fast. You’ve got to make the good times last. Jesus was a busy little bee in his lifetime. It’s tough trying to keep up, especially when you only have a couple of days. Oh….and how come all the cool people die at 33? Like Jesus and Alexander The Great. That can be the question of the day! Up and out early and the first visit was the Temple Mount. You have to see things in this part of the world when the opportunity arrises as places open and close throughout the day and it’s hard to keep track of everybody’s hours. I mean preists etc have to eat and rest etc. Gee…nice work if you can get it. We never shut shop for lunch where I worked! The Temple Mount (aka Haram Ash-Sharif) is the Muslims’ domain and during the morning they’ll only let you visit between 08:00-10:00, so you really need to be there at 08:00 as it doesn’t take long for the queues of tourists to build and security checks slow things down a bit as well. This is a gorgeous, quiet courtyard area full of olive and cypress trees. There were a few little circles of men under trees studying their religious teachings and it’s hard to imagine such a peaceful little spot has been the centre of such dispute and upheaval. Why on earth all the religious heavy weights decided to do important things here is beyond me. Couldn’t they have spread themselves out a bit and save the world a whole lot of bother? It all comes down to a little bit of rock. It is this bit of rock that the Jews believe is the foundation stone of the world and Adam was created here. Then everyone (Adam, Cain, Abel, Noah and Abraham) all performed sacrifices here. Next Solomon decided it would be a nice spot for a temple and placed the Ark of the Covenant here. Even the Romans got in on the act and later built a temple to Zeus here. Then Mohammed had a go. He decided to teleport here from Mecca one night, said some prayers and teleported up to heaven. Seriously you guys, there’s a world outside your postcode. Maybe you should have done a bit more travelling abroad or something. The Israelis gave the site to the Muslims after the Six Day War. I mean they bulldozed their houses so I guess they had to give them something. It’s interesting because what I was told, is that The Dome of the Rock (you know, the building with the big shiny, gold dome) is only entered by Muslim women. The men are sent to the mosque (with the boring, silver dome). This is the real place of worship up here, with The Dome being more of a pretty building. The downside is that, as a tourist, they won’t let you in The Dome. Boo, muslims. They used to but it’s stopped in recent times. I think it’s a bit rough seeing that it’s important to a few faiths and everyone else (Jews, Christians) lets everyone into their sacred areas. Bit of trivia for the day: the big gold dome used to be actual gold, but someone needed to pay some debts so it all got melted down and the roof is now aluminium.

The complex also holds The Golden Gate. Again, this is out of bounds to everyone (you really need to learn to share, guys!) but is believed by the Jews to be the gate where the Messiah will enter Jerusalem.

Next it was time to leave the old city through the Jaffa Gate in the Jewish Quarter. I found a cab driver who I made a deal with to take me to Bethlehem and Masada for a bargain price. One bit of advice….the term, “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch” always rings true, and never more so than in Jerusalem. Whether it be hotel rooms or cab rides, never believe the deal the first time you here it. They’re thieves!! Anyway, the first part of the trip went well. The birthplace of Jesus is only about 10km away (thank you Mary and Joseph for not having Jesus on The Temple Mount!! At least they came up with an original place!). It’s strange to come to places like this as you have this image of a cosy little town set in the olden days, just like the pictures from your kiddies Bible or nativity scenes. The harsh reality is that is a modern, bustling little place and as dirty and up-to-date as any other town. The old section is quite a bit nicer, to be fair. It’s a town that’s been inhabited sins Palaeolithic times and nowadays has an 80% Christian Arab population. Being in the West Bank and out of Jerusalem, you have to pass a check point to get into the area. Here my cab driver took me into a shop where they gave me fresh orange juice and offered me the world plus a free guide (now I was thinking I’d paid way over the top to now be receiving such service!). The guide was actually pretty cool and we headed to the Church of the Nativity, which is believed to be the oldest continuously operating church in the world. Constantine’s mother Helena commissioned this church as well! She really did do a good job of ridding the place of Pagans. Approached from Manger Square, this old, stone building has three doors in one! You can see the outline of doors from different eras and they fit inside each other like those three coffee tables of descending size that your parents used to have. The smallest and one in use is The Door of Humility, built by the Ottomans. This is another Jesus site that’s been divvied up between the different Christian churches. Here the Franciscans get half the birth grotto and the Greek Orthodox get the other. The Greek Orthodox always get the best bits (like Calvary and here the manger and birth place). When I asked why, I was told it was because of their Byzantine background. They reckon they were here before everyone else. Fair enuff! There are so many important little places in the grotto under the church alone. The place where Mary and Joseph entered the grotto, the place where St Jerome translated the Bible from Greek to Latin, the place where Joseph had a dream where he was told to flee to Egypt, the tombs of the innocents who were killed by Herod and the place where Jesus was born and then the Manger. Breathe. The pinpoint accuracy of these most sacred of sites is more than incredible. I mean, I doubt if even Joseph could have remembered the exact spot he slept to within a millimetre, so how come everyone else knows? Anyway, Norbert didn’t mind. He was chuffed just to stand next to the manger site and have his photo taken, pretending he was one of those original Jesus-guarding sheep. We had to wait about half an hour to enter the Grotto of the Nativity as the Armenians were having a service. Everyone gets a turn all day, so it’s open, closed, open, closed ALL the time. Then a little monk has to run in and clean it before anyone can go in again. Talk about tedious! Next it was back to the shop where I got to try the Franciscan wine that they use at midnight mass on Christmas Eve. Not a bad drop it was, either.

Next it was back in the cab (with my free falafel sandwich!) and onto the Herodian. This was a summer palace/fortress/monument/burial ground and district capital built by Herod just before BC turned into AD. The wonderful thing about this archaeological site is that chances are, you’ll be the only one here (just ignore the 5 other tourists for full effect!) It has an upper and lower level and they’ve found a mortuary building making them believe that Herod’s tomb is here, but they’re still excavating, so watch this space! The place has had a rich and dramatic history which I won’t go into (info overload!) and from her are brilliant views over the Judean Desert. My driver tried to convince me that you could see Beer Sheva from here (famous for the Australian Lighthorse charge that took place there), but I just can’t see how the little village a couple of kms away was the place that’s half way down the country when you look at a map.

Next it was back towards Jerusalem to head out to Masada. I thought things were sounding a bit dodgy when he was trying to give me other options rather than Masada to see. When I insisted on Masada, he decided that it would take too long and he needed more money. Grrrrrrr. He was to feel the full wrath of Rebecca. I gave him a serving, gave him half the amount he had agreed on, slammed the door and left. Seriously, a deal’s a deal. Anyway, I’d got a pretty good deal on what I’d seen already, so Masada is to be saved for tomorrow.

I then walked on to The Mount of Olives and this is another site jammed packed with stories. Its a steep walk to the top, but the views over the Old City are well worth it. This is the place where the Jews believe the Messiah will come and save them. Taking no chances, many choose to be buried here to be first in line. The site is amazing as 40% of the mount is covered in low tombs. It looks like some massacre has taken place here. I was told that a spot will set you back about USD25,000, or if you’re Robert Maxwell, USD25M. Supposedly I saw his grave, but it’s all in Hebrew so the bloke could have told me anything. I was chatting to a Palestinian bloke up here for about an hour and was trying to make sense of all the Jewish/Palistinian dividing lines. It’s quite confusing so I’ll try to explain. The Arab areas are basically The West Bank and Gaza. With Jerusalem, the east part is the old city and the west part is Israeli. However, if you are an Arab and were born here, you’re allowed to be here. You have to have a special identification card (of which he showed me) which basically gives you the freedom to go anywhere. That’s why there’s checkpoints all overt the country, to check peoples id etc. He said that the Arabs really don’t have a problem with the Jews born in Israel etc, the problem arrises when the Jewish people just waltz in from other countries and are just given houses snatched off the Arabs. Just like that. Every Friday houses get distributed and you get some small demonstrations as a result (if I understood him correctly. Don’t actually quote me on any of this stuff!!) They also love the tourists. And I can vouch for that. Out of all the people I’ve come across, the Arabs have been the most welcoming and helpful. They’ll go out of their way to help or give you directions. With a lot of their sources of income having been taken away from them, tourism is really all they have, so they’re not about to go and scare off their source of income. I really noticed this in Bethlehem (a Palestinian area). The people were gentle, kind and gracious. I also think it’s way too easy to mistake the state or fundamentalist view to that of the man in the street. Most people in the world just want to get along, earn a dollar and keep their families safe. The big security walls around the different settlements though are nonetheless a little off-putting. Either way, I think it’s just best to see the person in front of you, no matter their creed, and leave all the labels for someone else.

Anyway…back to the sites! I had had the chin wag as, yet again, most of the sites here had been closed for lunch or whatever they get up to. It was now about 15:00 and time to wander back down the Mount of Olives along the route they use for Palm Sunday. Jesus did a lot of things in this place. It was his first stop after fasting for 40 days and 40 nights, he entered here before his condemnation,he wept for Jerusalem here, he hung out here before his death and then he chatted to his prophets here. I think it was one of his favourite hangs. My first stop was the Church of the Paster Noster. This is supposedly where Jesus taught the Lord’s Prayer (woops….I forgot that one!). Today it is written on big tiles in 100 different languages. I took photos from the outside as you had to pay to go on. Yes, I’m tight. Next was the Church of Dominus Flevit. This is my favourite little church to date. Plain and unassuming, it has a pretty design and lovely views to the Old City through its understated window. This is where Jesus supposedly wept for Jerusalem. Next it was done to the Tomb of the Virgin Mary. This is a dull little cave-like place, but you’d be forgiven in thinking that you had entered a lighting shop what with all the chandeliers and lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Positively hundreds!!!!! Yep…thoses Greeks have been at it again! Here you enter what seems to be a cute little purpose-built grotto where Mary is supposed to have been burried. I actually prefer Mary Magdalene, bless her cotton socks. She has more conspiracy attached to her and hidden stories. Anyway, next it was time for another “Rebecca doesn’t know what she’s doing” ritual. There was a big icon behind the tomb on which lent a little icon. I think you were supposed to kiss the little one and touch the big one. I just went up and had a bit of a nosey around. The throng below must think me quite strange. But I mean, how are you supposed to know what to do? Do you learn that at Catholic School or something? Anyway, for religious and supposedly spiritual folk, they’re all darn pushy. I just push back or stand there staring at them like the village idiot. It seems to unnerve them somewhat, which I take as a kind of victory. I’ve started to make a bit of a game of it. There’s all these other little shrines too. How are you supposed to know who they’re all for? Anyway, if nothing else, I get away with wearing my silly scarves around my head to keep the sun off. I’m sure they just think that I’m being all pious or something!

Next door is Gethsemene (I have oh such problems pronouncing that word!). This is a nice little olive grove where Jesus supposedly hung out with his disciples before he died. It’s a lovely little spot and some of the olive trees have been dated at being over 2000 years old (and to be fair, you just have to look at them to figure that this is probably true), so they very well could have witnessed Jesus’ arrest. Inside the basilica is another “X marks the spot” slab of stone.

That was the Mount of Olives covered so it was now time to cross the small Kidron Valley back towards the Old City. This little area has a great story attached to it. Basically, in the future, this is where all the action will happen. On the day of judgement, God will sit where The Dome of the Rock is (unoriginal, God!!) and everyone will line up on the Mount of Olives. A steel bridge and a paper bridge will span across this valley connecting the two mounts and everyone will be marched across. Just a tip….the steel bridge is going to collapse and you’ll go to hell, so make sure you jump on the paper one. Don’t say I didn’t tell you! This valley also contains the tombs belonging to David’s son and that of Zachariah.

Next it was around to the old City of David, which is located just west of the Old City wall. This is the oldest part of Jerusalem and was a Canaanite settlement captured by King David about 3000 years ago. It’s still possible to walk around some of the ruins, but most of the city is under modern dwellings. The most significant of the excavations are the Hezekiah’s Tunnel and Warren’s Shaft which lead to the Pool of Siloan and the Spring of Gihon consecutively, both water supplies to the city. The former pool is famous for being the place where Jesus told a blind man to wash his face and he was healed. It was a pretty long walk on a hot day, but worth the effort. Next it was back into the Old City, entering at Dung Gate near the Western Wall, and I found the place crawling with young ( and not at all ugly!) young soldiers. From what I could find out, it was oath-swearing day or something. I’ve never seen sooooooo many M16 assault rifles. Everywhere. And not just on the soldiers, but tables full of them. Those and Torahs (at a guess) and I can only assume that you get sworn in and receive a gun and a Torah. Nothing like a bit of hypocrisy! Anyway, I wasn’t about to hang around to find out as my feet had really had enough and were demanding I take them home.

XXX