Mount of Olives

After returning from Bethlehem I strolled around the main market, which was extremely busy with shoppers buying food to prepare for their Shabbat dinners. It was the exact opposite of the vibe when I went a couple of days earlier and the same market was opening up on a random mid-week day.

Being tired of tours, well not tired, just over-saturated, Julie and I opted to take mass transit to the Mount of Olives instead of an organized tour. 

We got lost. We had troubles finding the bus station in the Arab section of town. When we finally found the bus, learned it does not take the bus card I was told was good in ALL of Israel (I later found this was the only exception as I used the same bus card throughout Israel, but at the time I felt I was lied to). The bus driver seeing my frustration allowed me to ride for free. Or else Julie paid my 5 shekel ticket and didn't tell me.

As the name implies, it was quite a hike UP hill. My legs were still sore from Masada the day before. The bus ride did feel good, but these two white women with non-covered heads and bare shoulders felt a bit out of place. Perhaps even stared at. I thought about putting on my all-purpose cover, but didn't want Julie suffering from all of their stares.

The view from Mount of Olives stunning. It is the same view anyone who has ever seen a bird's-eye postcard picture of Jerusalem has seen. After I finally look through my pictures, I will add my version here. It was hazy and not at the peak of sunset or sunrise. A quick google search will bring up much better images. Mount of Olives is where Jesus stood when he wept over Jerusalem.

A word of note from the Lonely Planet tour book, and from our experience: women do not go alone, there are always two men sitting on the steps. Nothing happened, but best to not be alone. I found it interesting that not only was that our experience, but happens often enough a tour book felt it was worth noting.

We then decided to walk back down the hill. Many people have told us it is an easy 10-minute walk. We did something wrong because it was a 30-minute walk through some passably shady areas. 

We passed Gethsemane, where Jesus prayed before his Crucifixion (I told you everything was close), and kept going down hill. By this point the buses had stopped running and we had to walk farther than we really wanted to, especially since our end goal for the night was really Tel Aviv.

Fortunately a falaffel place I ate at out earlier in the week was still barely open. "10 minutes." The man kindly let us buy dinner as he cleaned up. He did the same for a couple of others, and apologized for rushing. Other places were already closed. As he closed the gate, at 7:08 pm we heard the sound of

the Shofar signaling the start of Shabat. At that point we knew we had overstayed our time in Jerusalem. 

Fortunately the Sheruts were still running. The driver negotiated if we paid for almost a full Sherut, he would drive us straight to our hotel in Tel Aviv. If he picked up others along the route (we didn't) he would have them pay us. The other option was to drive around looking for eight more people and then be dropped off at the main bus station where we would then (in the dark) have to figure out how to find our hotel. He did give us a discounted rate.

Never so happy to see our hotel. Had to convince them to separate our beds (while we are friends, we are not THAT kind of friends), but that did not take long. I think my head was asleep before I hit the pillow. Had I realized how uncomfortable the beds would be at the Kibbutz, I would have enjoyed it even more.