Looking for olive trees in a divided city

The Garden of Gethsemane was calling to me this morning. After yesterday's profound experience at the Western Wall at dawn, I woke up with a single-minded focus on finding the ancient olive trees I'd read about. The guidebook mentioned some of them might be over 1,000 years old.

I set out at 8:20, aiming to arrive right when the garden opened at 8:30. The morning air was crisp - only about 7°C according to my phone - and the sky was mostly cloudy. Perfect weather for walking, though I did wish I'd brought my heavier jacket rather than just the light one.

The walk from my hotel near the Old City took me through winding streets, past security checkpoints, and eventually to the Mount of Olives. Jerusalem is built on hills, and you feel every incline in your calves. As I walked, I noticed how the city changes character from neighborhood to neighborhood - the architecture, the people, even the atmosphere shifts subtly as you move between areas.

I arrived at 8:25, five minutes before opening, and found myself alone except for a caretaker sweeping the entrance path. He nodded as I waited patiently. When the gates opened, I entered what felt like a sacred grove. The olive trees were magnificent - gnarled, twisted trunks that spoke of centuries of survival. Some had trunks so wide it would take three people holding hands to encircle them.

I spent nearly an hour just walking among these ancient sentinels, taking photographs from different angles, trying to capture their character. There's something profound about standing beside a living thing that was here long before you were born and will likely remain long after you're gone. These trees have witnessed so much history, so many prayers.

By 9:30, tour groups started arriving, and the peaceful atmosphere dissipated somewhat. I decided to continue my exploration of the Mount of Olives, making my way to the viewpoint overlooking the Old City. The vista was breathtaking - Jerusalem spread out before me, the golden Dome of the Rock gleaming despite the cloudy sky, the walls of the Old City clearly visible.

I found a small café nearby and ordered a coffee, taking time to upload some of my tree photos and check the weather forecast. Looks like some showers might be moving in tomorrow - I'll need to plan accordingly for my last full day here before heading to Bethlehem.

While sipping my coffee, I overheard a group of locals discussing the recent daycare tragedy. Two infants found dead in an unlicensed facility just two days ago. The conversation was heated, with people arguing about government oversight and parental responsibility. It was a stark reminder that beyond the ancient stones and religious sites, Jerusalem is a modern city with modern problems.

After my coffee, I walked back toward the Old City, this time entering through the Lion's Gate and making my way toward the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The narrow streets were becoming more crowded as the day progressed, with a mix of pilgrims, tourists, and locals going about their business.

The church itself was overwhelming - the sheer weight of history and faith concentrated in one structure. Different Christian denominations control different sections, and you can feel the invisible boundaries as you move through the space. Pilgrims knelt to touch the Stone of Unction, believed to be where Jesus' body was prepared for burial. Others waited in line to enter the small Edicule housing the tomb itself.

I'm not religious, but it's impossible not to be moved by the devotion on display. People weeping, praying fervently, some having traveled thousands of kilometers for this moment. I found a quiet corner and just observed for nearly an hour, trying to absorb the significance of this place for so many around the world.

By the time I left, it was after noon, and my stomach was reminding me that breakfast had been many hours ago. I found a small restaurant in the Christian Quarter and ordered a plate of hummus with warm pita bread. The owner, noticing me studying my map, came over to chat.

"First time in Jerusalem?" he asked.

I nodded, mouth full of hummus.

"You should go to the Olim Comedy Night tonight at the Jerusalem Theater," he suggested. "Good way to see another side of the city. Starts at 7:30."

I thanked him for the recommendation. Comedy might be just what I need after several days of intense historical and religious experiences.

Now I'm back at my hotel for a brief rest before deciding what to do with my afternoon. I'm torn between returning to the Israel Museum to see sections I missed yesterday or walking the Via Dolorosa, which I still haven't done. I have just one more full day in Jerusalem before my departure to Bethlehem, and I'm feeling the pressure to make the most of it.

Yet at the same time, I'm reminded of what I realized earlier in this journey - travel isn't about checking off sites from a list but about quality experiences. Perhaps I'll simply let the afternoon unfold as it will.

Days traveled: 148 Days remaining: 352