Tobia Ziklik

On our second to last day in Israel, we spent the day with Arnon’s grandparents, David and Sara, and Sara’s sister-in-law Rina. We took them to the ancient Jewish city of Beit She’arim, located in present-day Kiryat Tivon.

In the second-century CE, Sanhedrin leader Rabbi Yehuda Hanassi was buried here. So many Jews wanted to be buried near him in the following centuries that Beit She’arim became the main cemetery for Jews, and ultimately a necropolis.

To enter into the cave of coffins, you have to stoop and enter through small doors. I was worried about the three elders in our group, who are in their eighties and nineties, but they were surprisingly nimble and energetic. I was also worried about the scent in the caves, as I am easily nauseated by that certain smell found in enclosed spaces that have long been damp, but to my surprise, the caves had no odor.

Inside the caves, there are about a hundred sarcophagi, and every single one of them has a hole. It turns out that early first-millennium looters had broken into them looking for gold and other treasures entombed with the dead, as was the custom in many areas, but Jews bury their dead simply, so the looters would have walked away with nothing after such an effort.

Later in the day, we dropped everyone off back in Haifa, then headed south to Caesarea. I tried to take a nice photo of Arnon and his grandparents, but they refused. Arnon later told me that his grandmother is very vain and only likes to be photographed when she feels she’s looking good. Strange.

You may recall that Arnon and I were in Israel to attend Yaron and Inbar’s wedding, and that day had finally come. The wedding was beautiful, yet casual, with the Mediterranean at sunset as a backdrop. How can you beat that?

Even though it was their wedding party, Arnon and I toasted the end of our own road trip around Israel.