2011 - 3rd Journey, Day 5

Hi Everybody!  I’m safely at home now, but still catching up on the blog.

DAY 22  (May 18, 2011):  Third Journey, Day 5

Job’s Spring,  Cove of the Sower,  Jordan River

This would prove to be one of the top two or three most wonderful days of my entire journey.  After a very full night’s sleep, breakfast was devoured, and much strength was gained from both.  The wind had turned around completely.  It was now a gentle and refreshing breeze blowing to the east – great walking weather.  The air was still pretty full of dust, so distance photos weren’t much to look at, but the sights of this day didn’t require any clearer air.

Trying to stay as close to the Sea as possible, I left the actual “Jesus Trail” quite a bit today to explore the shoreline from other trails or by busting the brush on my own.  And so it was that quite unexpectedly I happened upon Job’s Spring (the first of the three “teaser places” I showed in the last blog entry).  To say the least, I was enraptured by the place and spent nearly an hour wading in its beautiful waters and taking photos such as these:

At one point I’d wandered away from the waterfall and was standing about knee deep at the place where the warm sulfuric water of the spring meets the Sea itself when suddenly, to my great surprise, up pops a man’s head with a face mask on, just beyond the reeds maybe 40 feet away.  He’s got a spear gun and a wire loop with three fish on it!  You might want to read the few paragraphs at the following link which explains more about the springs and just why he’d be fishing at this particular place. 

http://www.biblewalks.com/Sites/JobsSpring.html

It was really hard to leave this sensational place, but I had other things planned, so about 10 o’clock I took to the trail again and 15 minutes later came to the cove where it is believed Jesus preached the sermon recorded in Matthew 13 and Mark 4.  Here’s how the event begins from Mark’s account:  “He began to teach again by the sea. And such a very large crowd gathered to Him that He got into a boat in the sea and sat down; and the whole crowd was by the sea on the land. And He was teaching them many things in parables, and was saying to them in His teaching, 'Listen to this! Behold, the sower went out to sow…'”

There is an obvious location for this event because of its natural amphitheater shaped shoreline, and, well, I just REALLY wanted to experience this place from both physical angles (audience view and Jesus’ view) so I took in the scene from the shore, and then it was time for a swim. 

As always, I had my trunks and swimming shoes in the pack, so, slipping into the water I first sculled my way along toward the middle of the cove with my video camera held up out of the water in my right hand.  Then, I came back to the rocks of the beach and switched cameras, repeating my swim with a still camera held over my head.  Neither one of these is waterproof, so I had to be pretty careful.  Finally, after recording both the video and the still shots, I left the cameras on the beach and swam along the shore and out past the halfway point in the middle of the cove so as to drink in the view as fully as possible from Jesus’ vantage point.  No doubt in my mind that Jesus could have easily preached to several thousand people from a small boat in this place.  Finally, I swam out beyond the rocky points to take a look at the greater shoreline.  My oh my.

The first photo is from the water pretty close to shore where I can imagine Jesus’ boat might have stayed, and the second photo is from close to the center of the cove so you can see the lay of the land and the scale (because of the bus in the center).  The third photo is from the shore looking back at the rocky point from which I entered the water.  Of course, this is the location of my second teaser photo where I got only a fuzzy shot of myself swimming in the Cove of the Sower.

Satisfying as all this had been, the day was far from over.  After an hour and a half in the cove I headed out once more.  Since it had gotten hot again and I was tired from the miles and the swimming and the harshness of the previous day, I set about fulfilling yet another big wish for the whole trip.  I had taken my swim last year in the Dead Sea, and this year in the Mediterranean and the Sea of Galilee, so I had only one body of water left – the Jordan River.It took two hours of enjoyable hiking on beautiful (and blessedly level) trails to strike the Jordan just above its entry onto the delta through which it now proceeds to the Sea itself.  This following picture is from the location of my first view of the river (looking upstream).

Moving upstream maybe a tenth of a mile to a more suitable location I found a place where the rushing waters seemed manageable.  This time I just kept all my walking clothes on since I had a hot day to deal with now and several hours of heat yet to face.  I carefully placed myself down in the water, lying on my back, fully submerged but only barely so, in order that I could cool off and enjoy the feel of the river while safely wedged in among (and holding on to) the rocks, thus avoiding the peril of being swept downstream. 

My oh my it was blissful.  Floating in the swift current of the Jordan River, enveloped in her soothing and cooling flow.  Nothing to do for hours ahead but soak in the river, dry out in the sun, and wait for my ride on the bridge up above.  My, oh my.  Life is so good.

Jordan River looking upstream from my swimming location at Arik Bridge (photos taken while standing directly under the bridge):

Jordan River looking downstream from my swimming location at Arik Bridge:

But the fun wasn’t over yet – I just didn’t know it.  After two hours and 15 minutes with the Jordan River I walked up out of its channel to stand by the Arik Bridge and wait for a scheduled taxi to pick me up.  My ride wasn’t due until 4:30, but at 4:10 a car pulled purposefully up and its horn honked (standard procedure).  So, I walked over to the passenger window which was open and said, “Chiki?” (my scheduled driver’s name).  This driver said, “Chiki, yes!” and then pulled the handle on the door so it would open.  I put my gear inside and off we roared, way up over the speed limit. 

In short order it became apparent that this man couldn’t speak more than maybe 25 English words.  When asked where my other bag was (it should have been in the car but wasn’t) he couldn’t recognize the words “bag” or “suitcase” or “Taylor” (the man who delivered the bag each night) so I gave up and we pressed on in silence while my mind was racing faster than the car trying to figure out what is happening to me.

Suddenly (frighteningly) he whips the wheel to the right and then jams on the brakes so we jolt to a stop next to a bus stop bench.  He leaps out of the car, runs around to my side, opens the door, and gestures for me to get out.  Then he grabs a partly filled water bottle off the ground, dumps the residual liquid, and makes a cutting motion around the bottom of the bottle to ask if I have a knife.  I don’t, so he uses a rock and some strong hands to hack and tear off the bottom which he tosses heedlessly aside.  Then he sticks the rest into the gas filler tube.  Grabbing a five gallon plastic jug out of the back, he has me hold this newly created funnel while he spills a couple of gallons into the tank and quite a bit onto my hands.  Satisfied with himself, and leaving me soaking in gasoline, we get back into the car and continue what has now become for me a most thought provoking ride.  “What in the world is going on here?”  I’m thinking, “This CAN’T be right!” (and it wasn’t). 

After 20 minutes, so that I am now quite a few miles away from my rendezvous point, and having recognized only two of the words I’d been using with him (“Tiberias” and “bus”), he turns right again, jerks the car to another stop, and motions for me to get out.  Sure enough, it's a Tiberias vicinity bus stop, but not the bus STATION that I need.  Still, what can I do?  So, I grab my gear, step out of the car, and without a word, he’s gone.  Who was that masked man? 

I’d lost my phone a few days before and there is no place in sight that might have one to borrow so I can’t call anyone from the "Jesus Trail" to resolve the approximately 4,319 questions ripping around in my head.  But I see a taxi is right there so I figure, “Oh, it must have been some sort of transfer.”  Yet my bag isn’t in this vehicle either and the driver wants 40 shekels for a ride to Tiberias and the main bus station.  I decline and start walking, figuring that the driver I’ve obviously missed might give up waiting and find me trudging along the road on the way to the bus station he’s supposed to take me to. 

By now I’ve figured it out and it is later confirmed that my previous driver was a complete stranger, just a really good Samaritan (in Galilee), and in our communication fog must have thought I was INTRODUCING myself as “Chiki” rather than asking if he WAS Chiki.  Good grief, Charlie Brown.  He was just a nice guy offering to help and then riding off into the sunset, leaving me miles in both directions from where I was supposed to be. 

A lot of people think it's dangerous in Israel, but my biggest problem right now is that an overly helpful stranger kindly volunteered to take me places I don't want to go.  By the way, another total stranger I never met found my lost i-Phone and mailed it back to me here in the States two weeks after I'd left Israel, so, far from ever being in any danger in land of milk and honey, I was surrounded by very helpful and well meaning people manifesting the milk of human kindness. 

But what am I gonna do, now that I'm standing out by the side of the Sea of Galilee miles from my rendezvous point and miles from Tiberias too?  Well, I could see up ahead that I was close to the ancient site of Magdala (yep, Mary of the same name's old home town) and I'd wanted to get some pictures of the excavations, so my mystery driver had done me a favor.  I walked over to the fence, climbed up onto the cover of a large electrical transformer and snapped the following photo, although I wasn't able to get very close because the site isn't open to the public yet:

After walking another mile or two along the western shore of the Sea I came to a YMCA – go figure!  So, after more language issues, I’m granted a phone, call my driver, and sure enough, he’s been waiting for an hour wondering where I got off to.  We finally connect, he leaves me at the Tiberias bus station, and by 9:30 that night I’m dragging my wheeled “carry on bag” behind me, while still wearing both packs, along Jaffa Street in Jerusalem.  Another 30 minutes and I find the Hostel.  By 11:30 I’m in a comfortable bed and laughing in the dark.  

Good grief, Charlie Brown.