Writing Life

Wandering the steep and winding streets of Nazareth has been a whirling dervish of wonder and fascination. It truly is a feast for the senses — the streetscapes, the ornate building shapes, the reminiscent scent of incense, of charcoaled meat smells...the chiming of the bells and the singsong of Nazarenes conversing in the streets as if telling the most important story ever told. Walking aimlessly through this place is the best way to find hidden treasure. I was fortunate enough to find some when I noticed a little sign in a gift shop window advertising ‘Ancient Bath House Tours’. Shortly after moving into this shop and renovating in 1993, the owners uncovered the historic remains of an ancient Roman public bath house. Their first clue was cracking a hole in a pipe on the other side of a plastered wall (see photos below). They discovered a series of horizontal pipes in the wall, identified as the same type of clay pipes found in other Roman Era bath houses such as the ones i

I was befriended by a group of sixteen-year-old Israeli teens who were out on excursion yesterday. When they found out I was Australian they became very animated and excitable, firstly about the Australian Open and their hero players and then other generalities. A few of them had pretty good English, so we were able to communicate well, but when one of them struggled they would consult their friends for the word escaping them. It was very much a group conversation. They were very impressed that someone would come all the way from Australia to visit their country. They wanted to know why? This seems to be a theme amongst Israelis. Once we established my lack of interest in Tennis and exchanged general information about one another a few of them were keen to talk politics. They wanted to know what I thought of the Israel-Palestine conflict, their respective leaders, President Trump, the BDS (the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions Movement against Israel), whether I was Left or