"If You Share A Room with A Monk in Jerusalem, You Have to Expect An Early Wake Up"

My recent ten-nation trip began with a week in Jerusalem. I met my old friend and roommate from our Cold War military service, Cliff Almes, in Darmstadt, Germany.  He has lived there since we both left the military in 1979, becoming a brother in a monastery there. He is Bruder Timotheus. 

We stayed in a German Guest House in the middle of the Old City of Jerusalem just 100 meters from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. For a monk of 40 years, being that close to the most holy site in Christendom was a blessing of the first order.  The Church is open between 4am and 6pm each day and mobbed with tourists and pilgrims every hour except 4-5am. 

So, Cliff awoke every morning at 3:30am, dressed and spent an hour at the Church.  Then came back. I was glad we could stay at a place that delighted Cliff so much.  I seldom go to sleep before midnight. Even if I weren’t an iconoclast, there is nothing that interests me enough to get up at 3:30am. 

Mostly I got back to sleep and stayed asleep through Cliff’s return, waking for the communal breakfast at 8:30am. 

Cliff stayed in Jerusalem a few more days as I went off to the Republic of Georgia. Two weeks later we went to Dachau and Nuremberg together.  We met in Darmstadt in the evening and drove to Dachau. At one point I asked if he had any reason to set his alarm before 7. He smiled and said, “No, but if you share a room with a monk in Jerusalem, you have to expect an early wake up.”

The Suite High of Jerusalem

My first night in Jerusalem was my second night in Israel. The first night I spent in Eilat. All of the second day I drove the length of Israel north from Eilat to Mount Bental near Syria, then I drove back to Jerusalem. It was Sabbath, I did not have a reservation, so I pulled off Route 1 just 20 miles from Jerusalem and surveyed my options on Orbitz.  

Since I had to park a car until I could return it to the airport, I needed a place with low hassle parking.  I chose the Crowne Plaza which wasn't very expensive and had easy access to the road to Jerusalem.  I have been a member of the Holiday Inn loyalty program since 1999 so occasionally I get upgrades.  

But not like this.  

The Crowne Plaza is a tall tower with 21 floors on height above the Central Bus/Rail station.  When I checked in I got upgraded to the 19th-floor suite.  It had a balcony that wrapped 3/4ths of the way around the hotel to the south, east and north and could have held a party for more than a 100 people.  The room was huge.  And best of all was the view. Here is what I saw on the balcony after I checked in: 

This was my room:

And this was the view in the morning:

The hotel: 

Ammunition Hill Memorial Site and Museum, Jerusalem

The view from Ammunition Hill of Jerusalem

One of the fortified trenches 

Ammunition Hill is the site of one of the fiercest and bloodiest battles of the Six-Day War.  The hill was taken by the Jordanian Arab Legion in Israel's War of Independence in 1948 and held until Israeli paratroopers and armored troops took the hill in June 1967. Michael Oren's book on the Six-Day War explains this battle in considerable detail.

An US-built, World War II vintage Israeli Sherman tank 

A jeep with a 105mm recoilless rifle

An armored truck

The museum on Ammunition Hill is underground. It has a film explaining the battle and a series of exhibit showing and telling hour-by-hour what happened as the battle progressed.

Memorial inside the museum

Multi-lingual exhibits

As with every military museum I visited in Israel, young soldiers are touring the museum learning about the history of the Israeli Defense Force and the key battles of their history.  

Another view of Jerusalem from the battle site

Another of the trenches

Jerusalem: The Youngest 5,000-Year-Old City I Ever Visited

Jerusalem: 5,000 years old and the youngest city I visited in my 20-country tour. When I flew to Israel after a month in mostly Eastern Europe, I expected Jerusalem to be the spiritual pinnacle of my trip. It was quite the opposite.  Jerusalem is youthful, growing, vibrantly alive. Surrounding places thousands of years old are new apartments, stores, hotels, clubs, couples in love, groups having fun, people arguing, people haggling, and old people here and there like rocks in a stream bed with the wild current of life swirling past.

In the Old City are warrens of streets of stone, closed to traffic, alive with people: restaurants, shops, stores, clubs, every manner of business line tiny streets and the streets that don’t allow cars.  The streets are also filled with young people.  Soldiers are everywhere and they are young, the proper age of soldiers. Young men and women with automatic rifles laugh in cafes, read on buses, stare at their phones at tram stops and takes selfies in cafes. The soldiers you see everywhere look like soldiers should: young, strong, and tough.

In cafes and restaurants, groups of young people fill the tables. They also wait on the tables and cook the food. When I bought bread or coffee or a sandwich, it was a young person who handed me my order. The hotels I stayed at had people in their 20s on the desk.

By contrast in Belgrade a lovely cobblestone street ascends toward the top of the main hill in the city. Along that street is restaurant after restaurant with live music and lovely gardens. The waiters, the musicians, the diners are mostly older people. The scene is beautiful on a summer night, but very different from Jerusalem. Belgrade draws the best people who want to stay in Serbia, including many young people. But the city, like so many in Europe, is old and getting older. Jerusalem, like New York, Paris, London, Beijing, and other world cities draws young people from everywhere.

Jerusalem also draws tourists from everywhere. Retirees from America, across Europe and Asia flock to the Old City. But on the steep streets of Jerusalem, the tourists walk from stand to stand in the market or shop to shop then stop to catch their breath. Young people bump past and stride up and down. When the vendors in the open-air market shout, young people shout back.

Even the Orthodox are young. In America, the enclaves of Orthodox Judaism are home to an aging population. In New York City and in my hometown of Lancaster where there is an Orthodox Shul, the strictly observant Jews are older. Outside my hotel on a closed street in Old City Jerusalem, one of the outside tables at the closest pizza place had a table with a dozen young Orthodox men staining their white shirts with sizzling pepperoni pizzas--and laughing at each other when they did it.

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Many people told me Tel Aviv is a young city, more vibrant, more secular. I can't say because I never left Jerusalem and so did not see the rest of the country. But the youth vibe of Jerusalem is my most lasting impression of a very ancient city.