OK so I've waited two months of the sabbatical before starting this blog but here we are and the beginning of three weeks in the Holy land. Let's hope that I can manage a few entries while I'm here and that there are still some people wanting to follow what I'm up to here.

St. George's is a very peaceful enclave in a largely Arab area of Jerusalem just north of the old city. There is a view of a very English looking cathedral from my bedroom window.

Yesterday was a long day's travelling. On the road between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem I was amazed at just how much construction is taking place - roads, stadia, settlements, houses, everywhere there is concrete and cranes. Where is all the money coming from? The USA I guess. Jewish settlements of sterile looking concrete block housing dominate all the hilltops.

Jerusalem itself, of course is a riot of different architecture with spires, towers and minarets dotted all over. We have had a glimpse this morning of the panorama of the old city from the rooftop of the House of Abraham. Appropriately as we began to consider the relationships of the the great religions which trace their roots to Abraham, the Friday sermon from the mosque and the great bells of the Church of the holy sepulchre seemed to be competing directly for attention.

I walked into the old city after our lectures had finished this afternoon and had forgotten what an intense blast of humanity can be found there. The traders in the soukh all compete noisily to sell their wares. An orthodox Jew hurries to be home before shabbat. Christian monks and nuns are seen every few metres. Their different colour habits and cassocks, together with the varying hats they wear mark out the different denominations but identifying who is who is beyond me. Israeli soldiers lounge around. The way they scoff crisps and talk about music portrays that they are still kids really and yet each cradles an automatic rifle. Smells of spice shops mingle with those selling fresh bread and everywhere there is colour. As I near the church of the Holy Sepulchre various groups of pilgrims carrying crosses are completing the Via Dolorosa.  The church itself is full of a latent and brooding power - pilgrims kiss the spot where Jesus' body was laid or dab a year from their eye, tourists gaze and take pictures, while monks look on, zealously guarding their patch and looking out for any inappropriate behaviour.

There are only six of us on the course and the other five are all from the USA but someone has to keep an eye on the colonials! With four staff looking after us we feel very well cared for.

Tomorrow it will be the sabbath and our exploration of Abraham and the Jewish tradition begins with a visit to and praying at the western wall.