A walk uphill through crowds from the convent to Damascus Gate.Stop at my now favourite cafe en route. They are putting up even more Christmas decorations.
A shared taxi to the airport. Meet a party of 77 pilgrims from the Catholic Diocese of Westminster including someone who had once been interested in volunteering at Notre Dame Refugee Centre - with whom I have exchanged emails. What a coincidence. He is now working as Communications Officer for the Diocese. He says that the tour has been good - visiting one sacred site after another. It has been exhausting.
This is exactly what I didn't want to do. Ironically the journey was the important thing: making the effort to get here; working it out; carrying on, even though I really at one stage thought what on earth am I doing - even as I sat on the plane after we arrived at Ben Gurion in Tel Aviv, waiting for everyone to file off.
All that quickly disappeared - probably as I got out of the Nesser taxi at Damascus Gate and the driver shook my hand and said 'Welcome to Israel'. Then walking to Damascus Gate and up to the hotel - the light - the fruit - the smells - the excitement.
Have had few insights into the life of the soul: but interesting thoughts about seeing as praying and what faith means and might mean.
Jerusalem is probably about what faith means - it seems to be as I write at the airport.
Food is very expensive at the airport but am starving. A last Palestinian beer and - ridiculously - a slice of pizza.
