I arrived in Tel Aviv eeearly in the morning, Wednesday the 29th of August. I crashed in a hostel right near the beach, half hoping I would wake up somewhere else. After a nap, I snapped to and realized I was most definitely stuck there. I was quite upset at this realization, as I was disinclined to wander aimlessly through a hot, foreign city alone. My third night in Tel Aviv, I had had zero luck finding housing, most of my daily meals, or anyone to talk to. I had determined at this point to stay through the weekend, and leave Sunday morning for Jerusalem. It seemed reasonable to assume a new town would provide a new perspective, and might change my mind about wanting to go home.
As luck would have it, three young backpackers from Britain (Will, Patrick & Dave) checked into the hostel Friday night. They had come via Cyprus, and were heading to Jerusalem the next afternoon. We went to the beach all day Saturday (turning myself into a lobster seemed a good idea at the time), and then caught a sherut headed for Jerusalem in the evening.
We arrived, with their backpacks and 6 months of my luggage in tow, at the Damascus Gate, leading into the Old City. What a change from Tel Aviv! The streets were alive with people shouting, selling everything from spices to shoes, leaving not an inch for the four of us to pass. After searching for our hostel for over an hour, we bumped into 4 other guys travelling from Britain (Mark, Simon, Graham & Shawn). They laughed heartily at the sight of us carting suitcases above our heads to avoid the stony streets, as I'm sure everyone else did.
We did find the hostel after many wrong turns and a great deal of stress and perspiration. We met up with the other Brits for dinner at a Falafel shop they discovered selling sandwiches for 5NIS (1USD roughly). We subsequently fell in love with the place, and it's owner, and ate nearly all our meals there for the next 4 days. We were properly introduced to the Old City when the others took us, with full stomachs, to see the HaKotel lit up at night. We stood on a balcony directly across and watched both pilgrims and locals saying their evening prayers.
The next day was a very full one. We started with a trip back to The Wall - the guys all toured the Temple Mount, and then we were off again. We took a taxi to a border and crossed into Palestine with the intention of seeing Bethlehem and the Church of the Nativity. Once we crossed into the West Bank, we found ourselves standing in a swarm of taxi drivers all vying for our attention. They argued with us, among themselves, and even with a passerby who told us it was an easy walking distance to the Church... bad move. Finally, the largest man we've ever seen came charging down the street yelling "Is there a problem here?! What's the problem?!" to which we meekly replied there wasn't one, nor did we want to start one. He told Patrick to "Stand over there and don't start any trouble," while apparently creating some semblance of order among the drivers, who had previously been flocking around us like seagulls fighting for a Cheeto. Walid, as it turns out his name is, put us in two cabs and quelled the uprising among the disappointed drivers.
He explained that he wanted to help us so we could go home and tell our friends how wonderful Palestine was. At the time we all assented, saying of course we'd tell our friends, mostly because we were terrified of being crushed. Once we got into Bethlehem though, we had real reason to pass the word along. The Church was very nice, but the town was much better. While people gave me dirty looks for the length of my (previously considered "modest") skirt, we found that the entire town was bursting with friendly people. Everyone was willing to offer advice or directions without the slightest provocation. We strolled through town a while, sampled delicious baked goods, and then caught a cab to Ramallah.
The cab driver must have been off his rocker, because we were far more scared of his driving than Walid. He went careening up winding mountain roads at 70mph, passing cars in the left lane on blind curves. When finally we reached the top of the mountain, he turned around (using the only English words he knew) and said "Seat belts!" with a huge grin on his face, before hurtling down the other side. We were are very glad to arrive safely in Ramallah, and soon made our way through town in search of the tomb of Yassir Arafat. Upon finding the Presidential compound, we were greeted by 20+ heavily armed guards, and snipers on the nearby rooftops. This couldn't be normal, so we asked permission to enter, and were told to stay put (something we were used to) because Mahmoud Abbas was coming! What luck, seconds later his motorcade came flying around the corner, causing an accident in the traffic the guards were attempting to direct. After that, we sweet talked the guards into letting us see the tomb (people LOVE to hear you're from Britain... so I usually play the part), by talking about soccer with them.
After the tomb we headed back to Jerusalem and took a tour of the caves being excavated beneath the Muslim Quarter. We walked along the entire length of the Western Wall, saw some seriously impressive models, and I think we, on the whole, learned a lot.
The next day we had big plans. We ended up making few of our engagements, however. We went to the Shuk in the morning, again sampling tons of tasty food. Afterward we intended a walk to the Israel Museum, but found ourselves going quite in the wrong direction. We gave up after stumbling upon the Montefiore site, and decided instead to head for the grave of Oskar Schindler, which we wrongly thought was nearby. It was closed, and we had walked a great distance to find this out. So we saw a Holocaust Memorial, got a lecture on the spirituality of Jerusalem from a nice but talkative old man, and then called it quits.
The next day (Tuesday) was better. We made it to the Israel Museum as well as the real Holocaust Museum. The latter was just fantastic. Though, like many, it packed a lot of information into a small space/time, to the point of being very overwhelming. Despite this, the sprawling grounds and amazing views at the museum made for a nice way to relax after visiting the exhibits. The Israel Museum (not at all what we expected) was mostly closed or temporarily at another museum. We saw 2 authentic Dead Sea scrolls and a couple photocopies that were impressive I suppose.
Our last day in Jerusalem, we shopped around in the morning (testing the bartering skills that we'd need for Egypt) before hiking the Mount of Olives. At Geth Semane, we saw 2,000yr old olive trees and a lovely Church. We left shortly after in search of somewhere to store my luggage so the boys wouldn't have to serve as my Sherpas the rest of the trip. After conning some very nice people at a fancy hotel (tears were involved) into keeping my luggage about 20x longer than they allow, we headed to the bus station to catch one to the Dead Sea.
In total, Jerusalem, new and old, was just amazing. The people were friendly and helpful, even if a bit amused by us. The food (mostly falafel and shwarma for we poor travelers) was outstanding. Being there really allowed us to realize what a totally different country and culture we were travelling through. If it wasn't the carts laden with fruit or bread charging through the narrow streets, it was the pyramids of spices in the shops and their omnipresent aroma... whatever it was, I fell in love.
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