While in Jerusalem, we decided to visit several Palestinian towns, including the obvious choice of Bethlehem. I read a lot about the security wall situation beforehand online, but the information did not seem consistent. I knew that we had to go to the Arab bus station by the Damascus Gate in Jerusalem, but it turned out that there were at least three different lots for the Arab buses. However, the lines to Bethlehem were in the “main” bus lot near the streetcar station for the Damascus Gate. I also read that we should take bus 21 to Beit Jala or minibus 24 to Bethlehem. The shelters for the buses are only about twenty-five feet from each other. So, we decided that we would take whichever bus arrived first. I am glad that we took bus 21. Minibus 24 evidently takes you to the security checkpoint outside Bethlehem, but then you have to walk or to catch a taxi to town. Bus 21, however, takes you through some lovely mountainous countryside south of Jerusalem before arriving in Bethlehem not far from Manger Square. On the way, we were able to see the Herodion in the distance. The bus goes through the checkpoint, and you only have to deal with security (having soldiers board the bus for inspection) on the way back into “normal” Israel. Once we arrived in Bethlehem, Arab taxi drivers repeatedly told us that it was a long walk to Manger Square, but it was not. I wonder if they misrepresent on purpose or if they think that Americans are too weak to walk ten blocks. We enjoyed seeing the Christian neighborhoods in the lovely desert rain.
We spent the morning in the Church of the Nativity. While waiting in line to visit the chapel of the Nativity, we were behind a Russian pilgrimage group and in front of a German group. We were Poland, and the two groups were quietly positioning all the time for more Lebensraum. We held our own turf, though, thanks to my ample experience in dealing with foreign queue weasels. The German tour guide explained Orthodox liturgical practices to her fellow Teutons as they waited, while the Russians prayed by the icons in the southern chapel where the entrance to the crypt is located. Once we were below, the Russian group sang while their two priests led a moleben. I was grateful that my visit to the cave of the Lord’s birth had a traveling Russian choir for its soundtrack. After we venerated the cave, we visited the attached Roman Church of Saint Catherine as well as its crypt, which includes the cells and tombs of Jerome and his followers. This was a surprise for me. I knew that Jerome translated the scriptures in Palestine, but I did not know that he lived next to the Church of the Nativity.
After we left the Nativity complex, we went shopping at Blessings Olive Wood Factory on Milk Grotto Street next to the Milk Grotto. Along the street are dozens of vendors, but we passed them to get to the place that was recommended to me before I went to Israel. There, a hospitable Palestinian Christian family sells wood carvings that they make in the workshop next door. It was fascinating to see their skills in action as well as to peruse their beautiful merchadise. The olive wood carvings that peddlers sell in the Old City come from the craftsmen in Bethlehem, who sell their goods directly to you for much cheaper.
After souvenir and gift shopping, we visited the neighboring Milk Grotto, run by the Franciscans and also tended by Sacramentine Nuns. In addition to the grotto, there are numerous chapels as well as ruins from previous churches at the site.
By the time we finished visiting the Milk Grotto, it was past lunchtime. We headed back to Manger Square to eat at Afteem, where they sell what is considered the finest falafel in Israel. The atmosphere, service, and food were excellent. I recommend it to anyone who visits Bethlehem. It must pass for a local gem, too, as an Arab family was celebrating a birthday feast for a little girl when we were there. The family who runs it appears to be Palestinian Christian, as well—there were several icons inside the restaurant, which closes for business on Sunday.
After lunch at Afteem, we walked around town. I had originally wanted to visit the churches in the Shepherds’ Fields, but I did not want to haggle with the vulturous taxi drivers, and we did not feel like ambling in the countryside that afternoon in the rain. I visited the Judean desert, where drought is normal, and it rained every day! As we were walking on streets named King David, Paul VI, Carmel, Manger, and Star, several people asked why we were not in a taxi. One young shopkeeper even offered to drive us to the bus station himself. We returned by foot to the bus stop and took 21 back to Jerusalem. And, yes, I did hum the carol in my mind while visiting those not so dark streets.
Happy feast day to my friend Andrew and to all Andrews, Andreas, and their various forms on the new calendar!
If you plan to go to the Holy Land, you may find the Franciscans’ Christian Information Centre very helpful. The Franciscans have maintained the Latin presence in Palestine for centuries, but they offer useful pilgrimage information for all Christians. Perhaps it is due to my own family’s Franciscan heritage, but I find Francis’ disciples to be the most genial of Rome’s orders—the most Orthodox, dare I say. Franciscans manifest a sacramental, cosmological approach to the world, and they combine heart with their intellect. Their love, joy, and gratitude reminds me very much of Orthodoxy. One sometimes finds Orthodox criticism of Franciscan spirituality, wherein the polemicist contrasts Francis with Seraphim of Sarov. Yet, I think that the comparison is fitting, though not in a negative way. Both men typify the best of their traditions. May they pray for us and for Christian unity in truth and in charity.
I have recently been looking into various aspects of Israeli tourism. As I was reading the Wikipedia article for “Bus travel in Israel,” I chuckled when I read (emphasis mine),
If you want the driver to tell you your stop, it is best to be clear about it. If you just tell the driver where you want to go, he may ask you at the following stop why you didn’t get off. Also, he might forget, so it is often better to ask the passengers.
While Israeli manners may be rougher than in some other countries, they are also more likely to actually help you, with several people debating the best route for you.
They just cannot help themselves.
It is vacation time in much of the civilized world. If you find yourself at the beach, in the mountains, on the lake, or in a distant land soaking up the local color, enjoy yourself and be grateful for the splendor of life.
Relatedly, I have discovered an interesting site that showcases postcards from around the world, Wild Postcards. It is well designed with suitably scenic content that makes me want to travel to the depicted destinations. Happy trekking!
John Bloom (“Joe Bob Briggs”) makes some comedic observations of Niagara Falls’ tacky tourism in Taki’s Magazine: “Niagara Falls, Ontario: World’s Greatest Tourist Trap.” I visited Niagara Falls three years ago, and I can attest that the Canadian side holds its own in the realm of Ripley’s Believe It or Not spots. I do not mind the hucksterism and tastelessness; that underbelly of culture has its own charms. Human beings are endless fascinating, even in their silliness.
However, there are many wonderful things about Niagara Falls on both sides of the river. The lakes, falls, and river are spectacular. Both Ontario and New York have made visiting these natural attractions quite easy; parks, picnic areas, and viewing platforms are located throughout the region. I recommend the Niagara Falls and Great Gorge Adventure Pass from the Niagara Parks Commission in Ontario. I would also recommend a day trip to visit the vineyards north of the falls, including a stop at the quaint Niagara-on-the-Lake. If you visit the Canadian side, do not overlook the Niagara Parks Botanical Gardens and Butterfly Conservatory.
The New York side is not entirely bereft of entertainment. The New York State Reservation offers some grand views of the falls, and it is free to enter on foot. New York’s other parks along the river, like Whirlpool State Park, are excellent places to eat with a view after picking up some delectable treats at DiCamillo Bakery. You can always get a bit of history at Fort Niagara, opposite Niagara-on-the-Lake, which offers a distant view of Toronto. You may also make the short drive to Buffalo to feast at the Anchor Bar, the origin of Buffalo wings. So, get fat in America and get stupid in Canada; that’s a fine recipe for a fun vacation.
As I type, thousands of committed prolife Americans are travelling to Washington to participate in the March for Life. In just a few hours, they will arrive in the capital, cramped and tired, and step into the stinging cold air that nonetheless must provide a nice change from the stagnant atmosphere of a charter bus. I somewhat miss the hassle and strain that I had to go through to get to D.C. for the march. The trip seemed like a pilgrimage, and the pain in travel added to the value of the mission.
Now, when I simply walk down Constitution Avenue after having gotten up, showered, and eaten breakfast, it seems a bit like cheating. I also miss the camaraderie of the trips. In undergrad., our Students for Life group would organize stays in the lounges of local colleges, and we would remain in D.C. for several days to see the sights as well as to participate in the march and in other prolife activities. Staying up all night in a Georgetown study lounge, discussing scholastic ethics or arguing whether Homer or Vergil gave his society the better epic are moments that I remember fondly.
Moreover, the city appeared more enchanting when I did not know it well. Of course, getting lost in the ‘hood back then because I did not know about the quadrant system (how many intersections at Fourth and H Streets are there?) make me appreciate my current acquaintance with Washington. Still, there is something marvellous about a new, mysterious town where the various places that you visit do not fit together to make an overall map but rather suggest an infinity of potential experiences.
I suppose that it is yet another example of how life is about trade offs. The new and alluring ceases to be mysterious once you live somewhere for long, but then you develop a relationship with a town, as it becomes an old friend. When I visited Paris as a sixteen year old, it was magical. When I returned to live and to study there, the magic wore off, but a new love developed. It became my town—no longer unknown, perhaps a bit less enchanting, but more loved and appreciated. Only by spending much time in a place can you begin to know all of its hidden charms that outsiders miss. My first impression of the Seine could not have been more romantic, and yet only when I lived in the City of Lights did I have the opportunity to enjoy the Parc des Buttes Chaumont on a windy day in the summer, the cozy hospitality of certain small Mediterranean cafés near Saint-Germain-des-Prés, or strolling through the Parc Monceau among April blooms on a Sunday afternoon after the liturgy. Contrast the emotional riches of the adolescent crush with the faithful marriage of many years. Each has its own delights, but the latter rests superior.
Anyway, I wish all of the marchers a safe trip and a fruitful time in Washington. I hope that the legions of teenagers and college students find the city wonderful for the hours or days that they experience it.
It is my brother Adam’s birthday, and I wish him the best.
To commemorate his day, I present The Open Road by Claude Friese-Greene. Greene filmed The Open Road as a travelogue of a road trip in A.D. 1924 from Land’s End in Cornwall to John o’ Groats in Caithness and then finally to London. Adam and I made our very own road trip to see these British extremities, though I suspect that we took a slightly different course.
I:
II:
III:
The movie is charming—another testament to what Britain has lost since the war. What commercial liberal man has exchanged for mammon!
Anyway, happy birthday, Adam! I remember well those little towns, Welsh castles, and Scottish Highlands.
To everyone on the new calendar, have a blessed feast of the Transfiguration and a productive Dormition fast.
August is the month of travel for many folks in the northern hemisphere, and I would like to share a site that someone sent me some time ago—Egeria. It is a travel accommodation exchange site for Orthodox Christians, which allows people to travel at much cheaper costs. It also allows for people to meet new folks and to develop new friendships. I have a travel loving cousin who has used these sorts of travel exchange sites for years, and she loves them.
I find the concept interesting, but I do not know if such would be good for me. When I travel, I often meet new people at places of interest, in youth hostels, on trains, on ferries, and such. However, I have never followed up those initial contacts to develop friendships. When I travel, I have an agenda of what I wish to do and to see, and I would find the social obligations of a travel exhange somewhat of a nuisance. If I did not have time constraints, I would not mind. However, I am an object and project oriented tourist rather than a person oriented one, and I would rather pay more money than lose time. My cousin, on the other hand, likes the social aspect of travel most, and this sort of exchange suits her perfectly. It may also fit your travel preferences. In any case, I wish you the best in your journeys.
When I travel, I like to sample the local cuisine. There are many ways to accomplish this. One can dine at the finest restaurants that a city has to offer, but one has to be wealthy in order to do that. One can also get himself invited to dinner by local folks in order to sample regional homestyle cooking, but one has to be outgoing, charming, witty, or quite good looking to gain the favors of reserved natives. Naturally, rich and beautiful folks have the advantage. If you find yourself lacking in those prized goods of human life, you can always sample the cheap but beloved establishments of a given place. Peasants and proletarians have their esteemed spots, too.
Lonely Planet and the Rough Guide often feature such delightful local dives where one can eat at establishments honored by regular folks. Another useful resource for travel within the United States is Roadfood.com. I recommend checking it whenever you venture into a new town.
For Cincinnati and its neighboring towns, Roadfood lists Price Hill Chili, Graeter’s, Putz’s Creamy Whip, Mr. Gene’s Dog House, Camp Washington Chili Parlor, Hathaway’s Coffee Shop, Zip’s Cafe, Blue Ash Chili, Friendly Stop Cafe, the Root Beer Stand, the Golden Turtle, and the Golden Lamb. I have eaten at all those establishments except Zip’s Cafe and the Friendly Stop Cafe. I would say that the list comprises many representative favorites from Cincinnati, though I note many conspicuous absences. Still, I encourage you to consult Roadfood and to enjoy those cheap eats.
I have been researching a possible trip to Rome for my father and me. I wish that the dollar - euro exchange rate were different, but post-war American prosperity could not last forever.
Something that I discovered during my searching was Monastery Stays—an information and reservations site for all of the religious housing accommodations in Italy. This is not for a traditional monastery stay, where you would participate in the life of the community. In such cases, people sometimes leave donations, but the “cost” of such stays usually involves minor labor. Rather, these religious communities have prepared certain rooms that they offer to guests for an inexpensive rate. It makes money for their community; instead of making vestments, candles, or coffee, they run a hostel service. We’ll definitely consider a monastery stay, as it seems a lot cheaper than Roman hotels. Plus, I would rather our tourist money help to support such communities. Evidently, some of the religious houses offer dinner for reasonable rates, too. What could be better than an Italian meal convent-cooked by nuns?
I have heard that such accommodation is available elsewhere in Europe, but I have never taken advantage of it. The unfortunate thing behind this is that these communities have extra rooms because their orders are dying. I have no problem with their making money and offering inexpensive hospitality, but they make use of mostly empty religious houses. Were Western Europe spiritually healthy, most of these institutions would not have any room for guests. The end is near, indeed . . .
This Month in Photo of the Day: Animal Pictures
The golden light at dusk and dawn in the Kalahari is amazing and can enhance the mood of a scene greatly. On this particular morning in the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, the rising sun was filtered by an ancient forest of camel thorn acacia trees, with a herd of springbok gazelles in attendance to complete the scene.
(This photo and caption were submitted to Your Shot.)
See more pictures of animals »
