It's been a very different experience here in Bethlehem compared to Jerusalem. I'm on my own much more, have spent a lot of time reading (one of my sabbatical challenges was finally to read Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamazov and I might just make it) and wandering the streets. And having become used to full board at St George's, I am now catering for myself. Groceries tend to be quite a bit more expensive here (especially brand names);  apart from fresh fruit and veg and there is a fantastic fruit and veg stall close to here, the other side of the refuge camp. Interestingly it seems to be almost entirely men who shop there, some of them filling great big washing baskets.

Whereas Jerusalem's main difficulty seems to be a surfeit of religion politics, Bethlehem's is poverty. Aside from the small matter of being the birthplace of Jesus it is a very normal Palestinian town and away from Manger Square things are pretty chaotic and run down. The attitude to litter would make The Green Group wince but that is the case throughout the region. Unemployment across the West Bank I am told is running at 40% and having a 10m high wall run along the side of the town cutting many off from nearby Jerusalem doesn't help.

I walked alongside the wall for quite a way yesterday and hope to go up to the checkpoint on Monday morning pre dawn just to see what it is like for those who have to go through everyday in order to get to work. Even here a natural resilience finds its way out. This side is covered in graffiti and also in huge posters detailing stories of hope or unity written by children.

There is even one written by a boy who dreams of surfing (the freedom of the ocean and the waves). Banksy was here a few years ago bringing his subversive take on life here and there is even a Banksy trail you can take. One of his more famous pictures, a riff on the dove of peace, is on a shop wall at the end of this road.

I have walked a lot since arriving here, successfully seeing off the blandishments of dozens of taxi drivers each day keen to take me wherever. In walking I have also fallen into many conversations and have found almost everyone unfailingly courteous and helpful. Late this afternoon as I was sitting on the edge of Manger Square, a silver haired gentleman comes over and speaks to me. He is a part time taxi driver, which is why I guess he came over to me, but was too polite to ask if I needed his services. Yousuf only drives a taxi because his main job will not quite support him and his family. He is a teacher of Arabic and Islamic studies at Bethlehem High School and a former imam. His wife is also a teacher. I know that teachers in the UK aren't on the highest salaries but not many have to moonlight as taxi drivers. He has seven sons, a source of both blessing and concern to him as he worris about their futures. The oldest two have just finished university and have no work.

On the way up the hill out of Manger Square I pass a couple of children on the step slope next to the steps using their imagination as only children can. Who needs snow for sledging?