Israel's Good Name

Ashdod Sea Fortress

In Coastal Plain, Israel on August 16, 2020 at 12:09 PM

A month or so ago I went on a third Crusader ruins trip with my friend and fellow Medievalist, Avner Touitou. After visiting Khirbet Luza and other sites in the Jerusalem area in December, and then Le Destroit and other central coastal sites in June, it was time to visit the southern coastal site of the Ashdod Sea Fortress, also known as the Ashdod-Yam Fortress. Avner picked me up in the morning and we drove straight down to Ashdod, eager to see this fascinating coastal castle right on the sandy beach. I was surprised at myself that I had never gone to explore this most intriguing site, having somehow mistaken it with the Yavne Yam Fortress which I did indeed explore back in March of 2018. As such, it was high time to visit this Ashdodian fortress, and our timing was impeccable.

Ashdod Sea Fortress from above (photo Ashdod Municipality)

Little did we know but when we arrived on-site there was a little surprise awaiting us. This ancient fortress, wind-whipped and swept over by centuries of drifting sand, had undergone a facelift in recent months. In fact, the newly fixed-up site was reopened to the public a mere month prior to our visit, and looks very well taken care of. While I was rather looking forward to exploring the charming natural-looking ruins with the deep sand drifts, it was also pleasing to be able to examine the ruins in their new state of organised upkeep, harkening to the days of old when the castle was in operation.

Within the fortress

Spraying on some much-needed sunscreen, Avner and I approached the newly fenced-in site and gained entrance. We began our exploration of the site via modern steps over the low northern wall – the original main entrances facing both east and west out to sea. This impressive beachfront property was first constructed as Minat al-Qala in the Early Arab period, sometime around the end of the 600s, on the foundations of Byzantine ruins. Its purpose was to be a part of a string of coastal fortresses aimed to ward off a Byzantine invasion-by-sea and seemingly served its masters well.

Seeking shade in a vaulted chambre

Following a devastating earthquake in 1033, the destroyed fortress was abandoned and only resettled in the Crusader period. Refortifying the castle in 1153, the Crusaders renamed it Castellum Beroart or Castrum Beroardi. Oddly enough, information about this fortress is extremely hard to come by, and despite scouring numerous books as well as the usual online database searches, I still know very little. Apparently the ruined Arab castle was gifted to a Frankish nobleman by the name of Beroart, although he himself isn’t mentioned in any surviving records from the time. According to researcher Joshua Prawer, as published in 1958, the castle belonged to the “Duchy of Ashkelon” (or Ascalon) and was situated on the border with Yavne, or Ibelin. While this certainly is a fun fact, I wish there was more historical information available about the enigmatic fortress.

Three vastly different building materials

What naturally seized my attention were the vaulted rooms on the eastern side – a shape that serves as a lovely reminder of Gothic architecture. A closer look at the weather-worn building blocks, even within the chambres, revealed such a diverse variety of material quality. Three random ashlars, divided by mere mortar, were so vastly different from one another: the first looked like countless bivalve shells pressed together, sandy adhesives somehow keeping it all together; the second was shell-free, but a very porous, sponge-like eroded block of sandstone; the third was a host of tiny shell fragments, held together by sandy material to form a relatively uniform-looking block, albeit textured wildly. Needless to say, this ashlar inspection kept us greatly entertained for a brief period of time.

The mosque ruins within the fortress

Wandering around the fortress, we took note of several of the architectural features, including the bathhouse and the mosque, which featured a mihrab and covered courtyard. Yellow-blossomed evening primrose decorated the old mihrab floor, a common wildflower on the coast. Next, we found the narrow stone staircase which took us up to the modern observation platform. What pleased me greatly was the realisation that there was another staircase mirroring our own – in fact, the main structure layout was nearly symmetrical and therefore righteously pleasing to the critical eye.

Looking down at the encroaching waves

Up top, looking out over the castle floor, we imagined what it would be like to live there back in Crusader times, keeping a watchful eye out for seagoing vessels. The gentle waves crashed on the surf just tens of metres away from the fortress’ front door, which made us wonder what the sea level was back then – something that was actually researched on-site back in 2012-13 (see HERE). There was something downright magical about the correlation between castle and sea that I had never yet felt; whereas many fortifications are built on the coast, almost all are building atop natural ridges, such as Arsuf, or pre-existing city foundations, such as Akko.

The northwest corner

Spellbound as we may have been, the sun’s unforgiving rays forbade us from standing much longer on the shadeless platform and seeking refuge became an utmost importance. We trotted back down the stone stairs to the welcoming shade below and enjoyed reading about the castle’s structure, a symetrical 40×60 metre rectangle crowned with eight towers. We explored the exterior eastern wall and were pleased to see fine masonry that has suffered far less from the ravages of the coastal winds. Examining the craftsmanship of Crusader ashlars is always a joyous pastime, especially when cryptic mason’s marks can be found. Unfortunately, perhaps due to weathering, we were to find no such marking on any of the hewn sandstone ashlars.

Avner inspecting the golden arches

Our exterior walk brought us around to the seaside front of the castle, where we gladly re-entered the charming building. We finished up our little tour with closer looks at the wells and drainage pipes, as well as a handful of marble columns resting on their sides. There were some structures that were unidentifiable and an area that is believed to be the dining hall. Feeling like we saw all that we could, we exited via the northern wall and wandered into the nearby trees to change into bathing suits.

Evening primrose along the eastern wall

With the cool sea waves crashing so tantalisingly close we had no option but to enter the waters, jellyfish be damned. Sure enough, just like our last trip, the sea was full of jellied bodies with dangling stingers trawling the moving waters around them. However, there was one quite noticeable difference: whereas last time they were nomad jellyfish, this time there were two other species taking the limelight. The gaudier of the two was the barrel jellyfish (Rhizostoma pulmo), with its strikingly blue body and mediocre stinging capabilities, and the other was the floating bell jellyfish (Phyllorhiza punctata), a drab brown with little white dots and a weak stinger. Even though these species have less potent stingers, there were still some nomad jellyfish in the water, and consequently we were stung, although we do not know by which of the three.

A beached barrel jellyfish

A particularly amusing jellyfish episode occurred once we had left the jellied waters and were in the process of air-drying. Good Mr Touitou was in the midst of talking when suddenly he felt something unusually solid in his shorts’ left pocket. He reached in and pulled out the most unexplainable object – a chunk of jellyfish flesh, seemingly of the nomad variety. I laughed heartily at the unusual site yet, unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture.

Indian food galore!

We headed back to his car and decided that it was time to eat lunch. He had intentions of finding a brewery but, as we soon found out, open breweries can be hard to find sometimes. We settled on scouring Ashdod for an interesting eatery and chanced upon Namaste, an authentic Indian restaurant located inside the whimsical Blue Castle on the boardwalk. Neither of us had ever been to an Indian restaurant so it was an interesting experience for us both. I particularly enjoyed eaten bites of tender skewered chicken with the delicious naan bread, and recommend it wholeheartedly.

Avner approves of Indian-made Kingfisher beer

Satisfied with our delicious ethnic lunch, we got back into his car and decided to drive over to the Yavne Yam fortress at Palmachim Beach for a quick gander. However, the parking fare was rather steep especially considering the fact that we only wanted to spend a few minutes there so we left feeling dejected. There wasn’t any other Crusader site in the area that came to mind so we figured we’d bring the thus-successful trip to an end. A quick attempt to visit the nearby Ariel Sharon Park, a repurposed garbage dump, proved a failure as the guard insisted that they had closed for the day a mere eighteen minutes prior to our arrival. Feeling just a tinge more dejected, we culminated our excursion with intentions to plan another trip soon, which we did with great gusto.

Eilat

In Eilat, Israel, Negev on July 27, 2020 at 8:50 AM

Just a few weeks ago, in the beginning of July, my wife Bracha and I went on a two-day trip down to Eilat, Israel’s resort town. The trip was organised and heavily-subsidised by Minhal HaStudentim, which offers trips and activities – in addition to tuition help – throughout the year to immigrant students. Being that we are both immigrants and students, we were able to snag this fun little trip for quite the bargain.

Is it a honeymoon or just a group trip to Eilat?

Early Sunday morning we sleepily lugged our bags over to Rishon LeZion, where our dedicated tour bus was waiting. Somehow we ended up being attached to the bus with students from the areas of Rishon LeZion and Rehovot, and not with our friends from Bar Ilan University, but we made the best of our predicament and made new friends. When we had successfully found our permanent seats – factoring in the safety guidelines during this strenuous time period with the coronavirus – our bus driver turned his vehicle in the direction of Eilat.

Our guide, Liran Gabay

However, we had a quick stop along the way, and that was Ein Gedi off the coast of the Dead Sea. Our route took us through Jerusalem, and our tour guide, Liran Gabay, filled our ears with wordy explanations to the various sites that we passed. Upon arriving at Ein Gedi we were greeted by dozens of fan-tailed ravens and Tristram’s starlings, as well as a splendid number of blue-spotted Arab butterflies – truly astounding to see such concentrations of flappy, yellow wings.

Ten blue-spotted Arab butterflies at Ein Gedi

Due to time constraints, we just did the short walk to the lower waterfall, where we whet our appetite in the hot, dry desert heat. After sandwiches, which served as a pre-lunch, we got back into the tour bus and began the long, straight drive down Road 90 to Eilat. But no, there was still another adventurous stop to make, and that was an extreme park by the name of Top 94. There, we did a variety of activities including a shooting range, paintball and eating lunch.

Bracha firing the .22 sporting rifle

I was quite excited for the shooting range as we were going to be shooting .22-calibre bullets – a calibre-first for me, and Bracha’s very first time shooting any weapon. We stationed ourselves side-by-side and unleashed a succession of hot metal at paper targets pinned up downrange. To my delight, both of us had rather tight groupings, although both sporting rifles’ iron sights were quite inaccurate which led us to wildly miss our targets.

Targets: Bracha’s to the left, mine to the right

Paintball was also delightful, yet the splatters of orange caused a bit of pain and bruising here and there. Bracha and I were on opposing teams in a game format that meant playing just to shoot each other willy-nilly, all in a brown, garage-themed setting. Lunch was nice as well, a generous portion of schnitzel and rice alongside french fries. There was a small museum on-site, the Negev Warriors Museum dedicated to soldiering between the years 1917-1949, but unfortunately it was closed.

Getting ready for some paintball

At last, we boarded our bus and began the final leg to Eilat proper, arriving directly at our sleeping accommodations, the HI Eilat Hostel. The sun set over the mountains of Egypt and we got settled into our own room, a fortunate upgrade that we were able to secure. Continuing the theme of feasting, we headed down to the dining room for dinner – a mess of meatballs, schnitzel, rice, pasta and more. It was an interesting affair balancing a hotel experience with the necessary restrictions regarding serving, which had limited portions with minimised human contact and longer lines, but we made the best of our situation.

Looking out from our hostel balcony

With the culmination of dinner we had a little bit of free time so we headed out to explore the boardwalk area with its plethora of shops, restaurants, bars and more. The gently lapping surf and the full moon’s reflection on the calm water beckoned us near, so we shed shoes and drank bottled cocktails in the coarse sand. It was a profoundly relaxing moment, even with the hubbub of nightlife behind us, and made the perfect ending to an action-packed day.

Sculpture commemorating raising the Ink Flag

The following morning greeted us with the hot Eilat sun streaming rays of warmth to heat up another day of adventure. Breakfast was served and then we headed out to our first stop of the day, the Umm Rash-Rash historical site just across the road from our hotel. It was the beginning of March 1949 and the Israeli government was bent on securing access to the Red Sea before agreeing to a ceasefire with the surrounding Arab nations. Two infantry brigades pushed south through the desert and reached the coastal area of Umm Rash-Rash which was being held by Jordanian forces. On March 10, 1949 the conquering Israeli soldiers raised an impromptu flag, known as the “Ink Flag”, a symbol of sovereignty over this tiny patch of coastal land linking Israel with the Red Sea.

Taba bording crossing

Getting into our tour bus, we were then driven down to the Taba border crossing which links Israel with Egypt. There, we got out to enjoy the expansive view of the Gulf of Aqaba and our neighbours, Jordan and Saudi Arabia. I kept a sharp eye out for terns, gulls and other interesting sea-going birds, and my efforts paid off. I was rewarded with my first ever white-eyed gull, as well as some white-cheeked terns.

The Gulf of Aqaba from the Israel-Egypt border

Our next stop was the Coral Beach Nature Reserve, where we slotted for some fun snorkeling in the reefs. Neither of us had ever been snorkeling, so we were both righteously excited to strap on some gear and plunge into the water, clear waters of the Red Sea. Terns flitted about over the low waves, we burnt our feet in the scorching sand, and the sun slowly ate through our protective layer of sunscreen. Eilat in the summer is truly a sauna, and we so badly wanted to just get into the cooling waters.

White-cheeked tern resting on a floater

At last our time to snorkel came and we walked our way out to the launch point of the snorkel route. For most people it took barely a minute or so to get the mask and snorkel tube affixed and ready to go, but I floundered in the shallows struggling to breathe normally as I peered into the underwater world with blurred vision. Unfortunately, the bespectacled among us couldn’t wear our glasses and with my prescription, I’d be happy if I saw any of the many fish species that live in and around the coral reef. Interestingly enough, this is the northernmost coral reef in the world, but alas, I have no pictures to show for it. When the snorkel activity was over, and I had seen a few colourful fish-blurs which shall remain unidentified, we got back into our bus and headed back to the hostel for lunch. When our bellies were full we were escorted back out to the waterfront, for even more watery activities. This time they were of the boating sense, as well as lounging about on the beach with the other beach-goers.

Coming back aboard after banana boating (photo Liran Gabay)

Our first option was the banana boat ride, where we and eight others were shipped out to sea and then marooned on a floating banana-like raft roped to the back of the boat. We hung on for dear life as the boat captain sped away, dragging us along in his wake, cool saltwater splashing our faces liberally. We clung as we laughed, the buoyant raft being swept along effortlessly as the captain throttled his engines.

The more extreme version of banana boating

There were some close calls but alas, nobody was fully capsized and we made our way back to the marina smiling and dripping under the hot midday sun. The next option was an even more extreme raft where the riders lay clinging to a rectangular float only to be flung about wildly. There’s a mutual understanding that those riding the rafts desire to be slightly drowned, and that the sea captain desires to do the drowning. Bracha and I decided that we’d rather watch the proceedings unfold, and I rushed to get my trusty camera.

Green sea turtle at Eilat

The eight riders flopped about in the foamy water, the spray dousing them with every turn. Bracha laughed heartily as the riders clung desperately to the raft, only to be thrown off every other minute. Indeed, everyone was laughing and a good time was had by all. One of my favourite moments, however, was when one of the fellow students spotted a green sea turtle coming up for air in the marina.

Eilat’s North Beach

After the boats we spent a bit of time in the water and then headed back to the hostel to change. I had been angling to pay a quick visit to North Beach, a famous birding haunt, where I was hoping I’d see some new and interesting terns, gulls, sea birds and the like. Bracha joined me and we walked along the beachfront boardwalk, replete with excessive tourist attractions. It was a longer walk than either of us had anticipated but at last we made it and we stood at the seashore as the sun began its daily descent.

Juvenile white-eyed gull flying over the sea

I scanned the seas with my binoculars, seeking flapping or soaring wings, but also made sure to check the far-out floating buoys. At first there were just more white-eyed gulls, but then a large tern appeared overhead – my very first Caspian tern, a true behemoth of his genus. That certainly was exciting, but I wanted more. I checked the drainage canal for birds, but there was nothing identifiable, so I scanned the seas again and again.

Some invasive house crows

One of the delightful aspects of birding is the unpredictability involved; sometimes, where you expect to see something you do not, and other times, sightings come as a wonderful surprise. Knowing that one day I’ll eventually tick off other, yet-unseen terns, gulls and other seabirds, we headed back to the hostel for a “barbecue dinner”.

Lantern tour at Timna Park

The government had convened once more to discuss the ongoing coronavirus pandemic and it was decided the restrictions be put in place once again. Therefore, our trip was being brought to a premature end, and some of the much-anticipated events cancelled. Hoping to give us one last hurrah, it was decided that we’d have a quick early night trip to Timna Park for a special “lantern tour”. I had been to Timna twice before, see HERE and HERE, so I was okay with the idea of going at night – despite the fact that the ground colour is one of the park’s finest features.

Egyptian influence at Timna

Our lantern tour was surprisingly picturesque, and certainly everyone made the most of it as we knew that we were to be heading back up north on the morrow. It was late when we returned, but that didn’t keep us all from enjoying one more night in Israel’s resort town. On the drive back the following morning we saw a few nice species of wildlife from our bus window – including one dorcas gazelle spotted by Bracha.

Mitzpe Ramon’s desert sculpture garden

We also made a quick stop at Mitzpe Ramon where I took the opportunity to walk out into the Desert Sculpture Park along the Israel National Trail. We arrived back home safe and sound, thankful for our special little outing but also ready to get back into our daily routines.

Lovely bit of vacation

More trips were to be had shortly, as my friends were angling to get out and explore as well.

Le Destroit

In Coastal Plain, Israel on July 19, 2020 at 4:05 PM

Just last month, as the Ministry of Health sanctions and guidelines regarding the coronavirus outbreak were loosening up, I went on a nice little trip with a nice friend. Similar to our trip back in December 2019, when we visited Khirbet Luza and other Crusader ruins, this time Avner Touitou and I had similar intentions. Still struggling with thesis ideas for our MAs in Crusader Archaeology, we figured that going about and actually visiting some lesser-known ruins might help spark an idea that would lead towards something useful.

Chateau Perelin jutting out into the sea

Whereas last trip we focused on the Jerusalem area, this time our attention was turned a little north, to the Atlit region, where the Kingdom of Jerusalem came to an end. The focal point of our planned trip was the ruined fortress of Le Destroit, which neither of us had ever been to. Interestingly enough, I had passed it hundreds of times during my army service, and had actually attempted to even visit it, however unsuccessfully. At last, thanks to Avner’s gung-ho spirit and vehicular capabilities, the visit to Le Destroit was to become a reality.

Approaching the old stables

Avner picked me up outside our apartment in the morning and we made our way posthaste up Roads 4 and 2 towards our destination. We had some more Crusader sites picked out, as well as a spot for lunch, but Le Destroit was first and foremost. Some forty minutes later we pulled up outside the small nature preserve, officially called the Karta Ruins Nature Reserve, just outside of Atlit. Accordingly, the ruins goes by several names including Karta/Qarta, Districtum and Khirbet Dustray, as explained in various archaeological sources that I examined whilst writing this blog post.

Le Destroit layout as drawn by J Dikijian

Le Destroit was built sometime in the 1100s, following an incident where King Baldwin I was attacked and wounded by highway robbers along the coastal road. The exact location of the Crusader fortress is between two deep passes cut east-west in the sandstone ridge, just along the coastal road, which provided a perfect hideout for robbers to leap out from, catching their victims unawares. Thus, in efforts to safeguard the roads for the benefit of all travellers, the Crusaders erected this small fortress as a watchtower.

Looking at at Chateau Perelin from within the stables

Interestingly enough, the Crusaders themselves were the ones to destroy it, for when they built the grand Chateau Perelin at Atlit as a regional base, they were concerned that someday the Muslims would use the smaller fortress as a defensive position against them. Surely enough, the Muslims did arrive within that decade, and their leader the Ayyubid sultan Al-Mu’azzam Isa razed the rest of Le Destroit to the ground, not leaving very much for us happy visitors to see.

Avner examining the hewn sockets

Avner and I explored the sandstone ridge, examining the small cave-like stables that was hewn not far from the fortress itself. From within the windows we had quite the lovely view of Chateau Perelin’s ruins, jutting out into the blue Mediterranean Sea. Continuing along the forged trail, we arrived at the northern side of the fort, and took stake of our surroundings.

The eastern side of the tower with its hewn moat

A small hewn moat was clearly visible on the east side, so we climbed up atop the rock podium from the northwest corner. Not really knowing what to expect, we were slightly surprised that there wasn’t much more than the literal base of the original construction. In the southeast corner we found a small cistern, fenced off and containing just a little bit of water. With not much to see below our feet, we focused on enjoying the sprawling seaside view and picturing what it was like to be here in Medieval times.

Looking back from whence we came

Consulting the Wikipedia entry for the fortress, we learned that an interesting ancient inscription was found nearby. We descended and gave the southern and eastern walls a good lookover, admiring the construction of the manger on the eastern side.

Looking out to sea

Dropping down from the elevated sandstone ridge, we scanned the rock walls from the east, looking for the cryptic letters. Much of the rocky area around the fortress was used to quarry sandstone ashlars for construction, so we knew to look for the more natural patches.

Ancient inscription in the rock wall

At last, lo and behold! Clearly cut letters carved out of the rock face! We stood below it, admiring and wondering how someone found it, until we were ready to move on.

A closer look at the carven letters

Taking one of the passes, hewn east-west out of the sandstone ridge, we made a loop back to the marked trail, returning to the fortress. Along the way we encountered what is believed to be a guard booth, also hewn from sandstone.

Avner inspecting the guard booth

Making our way back to the car, I had a quick gander at the closest fishpond (or whatever the body of water serves as) and then we decided that it was time to go to the beach. We entered HaBonim Beach into the Waze navigation system and set a course which ended up taking us on dirt roads through fields and alongside banana greenhouses, providing loads of befuddled entertainment as we wondered if we’d ever get there. At last, after too long in the open fields, we arrived at a small parking area and disembarked.

Sea of white Queen Anne’s lace

Heading straight for the sea, passing a small tributary which would empty into the sea had there been more water, we made two interesting discoveries. The first was that we had landed exactly where the “famous” shipwreck is, the subject of innumerable sunset photographs, which turned out to actually be quite small. Where I had always envisioned a small ship, of impressive proportions, there lay a small boat which was a bit underwhelming. A little research revealed that this boat is believed to be a Turkish cement-carrying ship that somehow sunk, but in fact it seems that it was an Israeli fishing boat named “Netz” that sank during a storm in 1970. The boat was left in situ, and has slowly decomposed, but more pictures can be seen HERE, on an interesting Hebrew blog. Also, a very neat aerial shot can be seen HERE.

Sunken fishing boat at HaBonim

The second discovery was the presence of countless jellyfish washed up on the shore, belonging exclusively to the species nomad jellyfish (Rhopilema nomadica). This species has infiltrated the Mediterranean Sea, having migrated via the Suez Canal. Large and usually a semi-translucent white, these jellyfish have become quite an issue every summer and whilst we were not pleased to see their presence, we weren’t completely deterred. Slathered with sunscreen we braved the potential of stinging jellyfish and entered the surf bravely. Sure enough, we each began to feel the stings and while we could usually see them drifting about, the repeating waves concealed them and it was inevitable that we should feel their jellied tentacles. True, the sensation is unpleasant, but in all fairness it’s not that bad, so we stayed in the water and just tried to avoid the jelly beasts as they drifted aimlessly around us, their trailing stingers ever-dangling in search for prey.

Nomad jellyfish washed ashore

When we were done enjoying the beach we packed up and headed back to the car, noting paragliders and common terns sharing the crisp blue skies above us. There was another Crusader site that we wanted to take a quick look at, so we drove back out into the dirt roads which eventually led us to our destination, Tel Dor. In 2018, I had excavated for a day at Tel Dor (see HERE), and I remembered the developing discoveries concerning the small Crusader fort atop the precipice overlooking the ancient harbour.

The lovely colours of summer on Tel Dor

Merle, or Merla Templi in Latin, was a small castle of which, unfortunately, very little is known. It is believed to have been built sometime before 1187, the year that marked the fall of the first Kingdom of Jerusalem, and likely served as a lookout of sorts. Of the ruins, there was a small tower that survived until 1895, and today there’s some ghastly modern concrete marring the ancient construction.

Merle under excavation (photo from August 2018)

We parked outside the beach area and made our way to the small fort ruins, passing loads of beach-goers and some more washed up jellyfish. The tel was very unlike how I last remember it, the coastal vegetation covering the previously-exposed ruins from a myriad of time periods. Standing atop the ruins of Merle, I struggled to make sense with what I remembered from the active excavation, but, alas, the ruins are altogether quite underwhelming.

Archaeologists chipping away at Merle’s history (photo from August 2018)

We left without a sense of satisfaction, having not really understood any more about the old castle than we could have from glancing at the archaeology books. The hour was late and we had grown hungry in the full midday sun. Avner had researched a lovely place to eat at in nearby Zichron Ya’akov, so we drove over and parked the car somewhere in the chic town centre.

Common kestrel searching for prey

The lack of tourists, due to the coronavirus sanctions, definitely gave the touristy town a bit of a deserted feeling, and to top that off, the restaurant Avner had found was decidedly closed. So, ravenous in a small town, we scoured the cobbled streets in search for good eats. At last we decided on a simple sandwich shop called HaNadiv, where I ordered a schnitzel baguette and a cold bottle of American Budweiser (a recent import to Israel which Avner had not yet tried).

Schnitzel baguette and a Budweiser

When we finished our meal, which was downright delectable, we got back into the car and headed back down south. Avner dropped me off and rerouted to his own house, parting with solemn promises to take another Crusader-themed trip in the near future – which we did!