We arrived in Tel Aviv at a bustling international airport and got through customs fairly easily, showing our passports and explaining that we were headed for Jerusalem to visit our son's family and that he works at the American consulate here. It's always a delight to be reunited with family wherever we have that opportunity. Despite a lack of sleep, the excitement of being here kept me alert for the remainder of our first day, which wasn't long. However, trying to sleep through night here, which my body was accustomed to being daytime in AZ, was a bit difficult. I wore earplugs to make it as quiet as possible, had the window open to the cool night air so it wouldn't be too hot, and was grateful to my grandson for sacrificing his bed and room during our stay. Still, I basically cat-napped through the first few nights. The 1+ hour drive from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem took us through barren, rocky countryside with settlements of masonry dwellings here and there. The signs are all in Hebrew, Arabic, and nearly always include English. (I feel truly blessed to have been born in a country which has as its primary language the language chosen for international communication- English. I have tried to learn a little of other languages but could never adequately converse in any of them. I admire those who can!)
Susanne trudged through the old city of Jerusalem with us while James worked and the kids opted to stay home. Our arrival was during the holiday called Sukkot or Feast of Tabernacles commemorating the travels through the wilderness as the children of Israel left Egypt headed for the promised land. On balconies, in tiny front yards, and wherever there was space, many Jewish families and restaurants had erected small booths of some sort of cloth for having meals together, socializing, and perhaps even sleeping as their ancestors did centuries ago.  The old city had very rough stone pavement with very narrow streets lined with shops and churches here and there. There is very little open space, as in any long-established city. There was an obvious military presence everywhere with well-armed police or whatever they might be called at intersections and in public squares. Clothing ranged from Western wear (primarily) to Orthodox robed men with furry hats to the occasional Muslim in certain areas and combinations in between. It was somewhat comforting to see familiar names interspersed with so much that was strange to me: Goodyear, Ford, Toyota, Pepsi-cola, even "McArabian" which advertised the Middle Eastern variety of fast food apparently available at McDonald sponsored restaurants.

The traditional spot for Jesus's tomb is in a large, complex building called the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. We were grateful to have our trusty guide (Susanne) with us as we wound our way through its halls and rooms and little nooks. We also visited a small, normally quiet park established by a British charitable trust which has in it this "Garden Tomb" showing what the scriptures described as the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea. Because of this tomb and the nearby skull-shaped cliff (Golgotha perhaps?), there are some who say this could be the actual site of Christ's burial. Although normally a very quiet place for prayer and meditation, we arrived when there was a large Korean (I think) church group lustily singing hymns. You could see joy in their faces as they stood and swayed, some holding hands, some raising hands, singing praises to God and His Son.