Last day in Jerusalem: a quiet morning reflection

It's 9:00 am in Jerusalem, and I'm sitting on the small balcony of my hotel room, wrapped in an extra sweater against the morning chill. At 48°F (9°C), it's not exactly freezing, but after five days here, I've learned that Jerusalem mornings demand an extra layer until the sun gains strength.

I've been up since 6:30, packing my belongings for my departure to Cairo later today. The process is becoming routine after 153 days on the road - the careful tetris game of fitting everything into my backpack, checking drawers twice for forgotten chargers or socks, and the inevitable compression of souvenirs (though I've been disciplined about not collecting too many).

With my bag mostly packed and several hours before I need to head to the airport, I decided to take one final morning walk through the quiet streets of the Old City. I arrived at Damascus Gate at 7:40, ten minutes before most shops open, and enjoyed that magical transition time when shopkeepers were setting up, hosing down the stone pathways in front of their stores, and the first wafts of fresh bread were scenting the air.

I bought a sesame bagel from the friendly baker in the Jewish Quarter who recognized me with a smile - a small but meaningful connection after just a few days here. We didn't share a common language beyond a few words, but the familiar nod and the extra bagel he slipped into my bag spoke volumes.

Walking back through the narrow streets, I tried to commit the details to memory - the texture of the ancient stones, worn smooth by millions of footsteps over centuries; the way the light filters down between buildings in golden shafts; the constant interplay of sounds as calls to prayer mingle with church bells and the multilingual chatter of residents and pilgrims.

Now, sipping the last of my hotel room coffee (decidedly average, but hot and necessary), I'm contemplating what these past few days in Jerusalem have meant. The contrast with Tel Aviv couldn't be more striking - where Tel Aviv pulses with modern energy and looks toward the future, Jerusalem feels eternally anchored to its past, every stone and corner weighted with history and meaning.

I've barely scratched the surface of this complex city. Five days is nothing in a place where time is measured in millennia. I managed to visit the major sites - the Western Wall, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Tower of David Museum, and walked through each of the four quarters of the Old City. But Jerusalem isn't a place to tick off sites; it's a place to absorb slowly, to return to repeatedly, to ponder.

The weather forecast shows today will warm up to about 60°F (15°C) with some sun breaking through the clouds - a pleasant day for travel. My flight isn't until late afternoon, so I'll have time for one more walk, perhaps along the Ramparts Walk for a final overview of the city.

As I prepare to leave Israel for Egypt, I'm struck by how this journey is shaping me in ways I couldn't have anticipated. At the outset, I imagined transformation would come in dramatic revelations or profound moments of clarity. Instead, it's happening in quiet accumulation - in the gradual building of experiences, connections, and perspectives that are changing how I see the world and my place in it.

Day 153 of 500. The journey continues.

![Morning light on Jerusalem's ancient walls]()

Note to self: Remember to check in online for my Cairo flight before heading to the airport. And buy some more sunscreen - Egypt will be warmer.