Tobia Ziklik

On our eighth day, the plan was to head to the northwestern-most point in Israel. But before leaving the Galilee area, we went on a search for Migdal, the birthplace of Mary Magdalene. It was quite difficult to find because it’s not located where the signs lead you. Also, the area is largely unexcavated, so you have to see the top layer of ruins through chain-link fencing.

In our search for Migdal, we stopped at a synagogue to ask for directions. When we noticed that the people heading into the synagogue looked really conservative, we thought it best for Arnon to go in alone while I waited in the car. After about twenty minutes, I was pretty nervous that something bad had happened to him, but then he reappeared with a plate full of honey-soaked cakes.

It turned out that the men in the synagogue had started grilling Arnon about why he was living in California, and were suggesting that he move back to Israel soon and attend synagogue regularly. Then they led him in a song of prayer and gave him a plate full of sweets. He thought it best not to mention the shiksa waiting for him in the car.

As for Migdal, they had no idea where it was located.

Our next stop was Rosh Hanikra, located at the northern-most point on the Israeli coastline. You can take a cable car down the white chalk cliffs to sea level, and then descend further into the grottos where the turquoise water is contained by orange and purple rock walls.

Back in the day, the British had built a railway tunnel through the caves of Rosh Hanikra to connect Turkey and Egypt, but the tunnels have been sealed off.

Considering its location next to the Lebanese border, there are a lot of armed personnel at Rosh Hanikra. But the coast guard was quite friendly, greeting the tourists from their ship over their loudspeaker. At one point, they even entertained us with a song.

Back at the top, I tried to sneak a peak (and a photo) of Lebanon through a blue-barred fence, but a man waved me away with his machine gun. When addressed in that manner, I don’t have to be told twice.

Next, we drove south along the coast to Haifa, Arnon’s hometown. It was still too early to check in to our hotel, so we decided to head back east to Nazareth.

Nazareth is the traditional home of Joseph and Mary, and the place where Jesus spent his younger years. Now, it’s a primarily Muslim town with serious traffic issues. I recall riding through Moscow twenty years ago, and thinking that in terms of driving, it was hell on earth. Well, that hell is now in Nazareth. At one point, on a stretch of road that had four lanes going in both directions (but six lanes of cars), a man going in the opposing direction decided (I’m assuming) that our side had less congestion. So he cut across the lanes, created a new lane to the right of us, and drove down the road in the wrong direction. Chutzpah!

After parking, which was another fiasco, we visited the Basilica of the Annunciation, which is built over the Grotto of the Annunciation, the site of Mary’s home. A Catholic tour group was holding mass inside the church, and I, along with a few other stragglers, observed from an upper floor. I haven’t attended mass since I was a teenager, so I was surprised that I still remembered all of the prayers and songs.

Arnon was supposed to wait outside for me because he was in shorts, but somehow he acquired a blanket to wrap around his bare legs and was thus able to enter.

Back in Haifa, with its confusing streets curving up and down the hill, we struggled to find Arnon’s favorite restaurant, Abu Yussef. Two cops pulled up beside us, asking us what we were up to. They laughed heartily when we told them we were in search of the popular restaurant. I thought it was rude of them to laugh at us, but still grateful that they led us through town, often in the wrong direction on one-way streets, and dropped us right in front of the restaurant. I’ve never had a police escort before, let alone to a restaurant.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing, strolling along familiar streets, and hanging out with Arnon’s family.