Bazaars, Cars And A Night Under The Stars
Today was our first day of freedom - no wake up calls, no deadlines, no whip-cracking or schedules. We were free agents for the day and all of Jerusalem was our oyster.
After a suitable sleep-in, Maisy and I joined a small group of others to visit the very confronting Holocaust Museum. Carol and Gary booked us a mini bus so we didn’t have to worry about messing with trams or taxis. A sign out the front of the museum declared that cameras were not allowed inside but weapons - as long as they’re registered - are quite alright. The museum was really beautifully done, a huge triangular structure with rooms and rooms of exhibitions. Michele and I synchronised our audio tour machines so we could ‘ooh’ and ‘oh’ and give each other knowing looks, sharing our outrage at the horrendous atrocities and treatment of the Jews, as we responded to the commentary. We’d only given ourselves a couple of hours and had booked our return mini bus already. We all lamented our short stay, agreeing we’d have loved to stay a lot longer.
Jerusalem goes wild for a feast and today, apart from Sukkot (the ongoing Feast of Tabernacles), it was also St Francis’ Feast Day, cause for a public holiday and a great reason to be out and about in the city. Australia really needs to get onboard with these feats days. They’re lots of fun.
While we were being horrified by the Nazis, having a sombre morning, Molly joined with another little group to walk the ramparts; a stroll atop the walls of the old city. She loved it, though was a little worse for wear at the end of the day when her step-count clocked an exhausting 24,000 steps.
After lunch at our favourite cafe, it was time to hit the shops. 7 of us bravely ventured into the throng at the pulsing bazaar, to try our luck at haggling. It was insanely crowded and heavily armed police were guarding road closures and enforcing one-way pedestrian traffic. Deb was on a mission to buy some jewellery, NIc was after a hand-embroidered tablecloth, Sue was on the hunt for a very specific pomegranate cushion cover for her friend back home and Carol, Gary & I were just hoping to bag a bargain or souvenir of some sort. As our token burley bloke, Gary demonstrated superhuman patience as the more indecisive of our bunch (not mentioning any names of course) made for a longer than usual shopping expedition. Comparing pomegranate pillows proved problematic and finding the exact replica from Sue’s pic was like finding a needle in a haystack. Gary and NIc were our star hagglers and we all managed to find something to take home.
We noticed plenty of large happy Jewish families out enjoying the feasts today, with tribes of children in tow. Pregnancy is the new black, here in the Holy City, with wigged-up young women proudly poking out protruding bellies all over town. It’s rumoured these young Jews are on a mission to repopulate the Jewish population after the huge loss of lives in WWII. I’m not sure there’s any truth in the rumour but they are certainly good breeders! It’s also the custom to dress all the kids in matching outfits Von Trapp (or perhaps Von Trappberg) style. We walked along with the heaving crowd, dodging prams and listening to buskers but when we turned to go back where we came from, we were salmon swimming upstream in a gushing waterfall.
During the course of this week, Deb has misplaced her hat. After searching high and low, we are pretty convinced she left it behind on the Mount Of Olives. Coincidently, that same day, a cute little cap was left behind near the elevators in our hotel. I popped it up on a door handle, clearly visible to all coming and going through the lobby. After 24 hours, the hat was still there and it seemed to have Debbie’s name on it. It mysteriously turned up on our door knob; one of our group perhaps assuming it was her lost hat. There was nothing left to do but for Deb to claim it. She’s now affectionately known amongst our group as a hat thief and so today in the cafe when the barista enquired as to whether she got her hat here in Jerusalem, she sheepishly replied…”sort of…” while the team members in the queue snickered aloud. If the hat belongs to anyone reading this, please come forward. I’m sure Deb will be happy to cleanse her conscience and return it to its rightful owner. Until then, it will be on her head.
In the afternoon, Dean, Denise, Molly, Maisy and Amy decided they had enjoyed Hezekiah’s Tunnel so much, they’d go back and walk through again. We had an impromptu happy hour by the pool, Janine providing fresh apples with her newly purchased date paste (delicious!)
After dinner, we climbed aboard our bus and headed back to the Tower of David, which was staging a state of the art sound and light show. Jerusalem’s answer to Vivid, the eventful story of Israel’s history was projected on the ancient rock faces with incredibly realistic animations, lights and vivid colour. The ruins formed the perfect arena and as we sat in the warm, open-air seats, we were thoroughly entertained.
It was a slow old drive back to the hotel, with Moses our bus driver having to battle road closures and masses of cars all beeping their horns in a cacophony of incessant horn blasts that would even rival New York. Some of the group, including Miss Molly decided to walk instead and had they not decided to stop for a coffee en route, would have beaten us back by a country mile.
