Continuing on with my trip that started on Mount Gilboa where I watched the dawn launch of the Gilboa Hot Air Balloon Festival, I had visited Tel Yizrael and was headed for my next site, Beit Shturman. Located in Kibbutz Ein Harod (of which there are two, side-by-side), Beit Shturman is a museum dedicated towards preserving the wildlife and archaeological remains of Israel. Built in 1941, the museum was one of the very first to be established in to what has become a country full of museums and art galleries, so much so that Israel is the country with the most museums per capita in the entire world.

Beit Shturman

I parked outside a school and sauntered over to the museum, the front door opening as a museum administrator greeted me by name. My visit began with a short film dedicated to the history of the museum, and more importantly, the personal history of the Shturman family. Named after Chaim Shturman, who was tragically killed by a land mine, the museum hopes to be a living reminder of the things that Chaim held dear as an important member of the settlement projects in the Holy Land. Subsequent members of his family also lost their lives fighting for the same cause and the museum renewed their dedication with each loss.

Mold art

I then began my tour of the building with a quick look at the small art gallery, where I found something quite unique. I’m not one for modern art, but I found this particular piece to be compelling: a circular display of mold that had grown on a mixture of black coffee and sugar. Heading into the next room, I feasted my eyes on the myriad of stuffed birds, mammals and more – a taxidermist’s dream. I found the collection of stuffed raptors to be most interesting as it gave me a little further information on all the Old World birds of prey that I know too little about. The jars of preserved human and animal fetuses and embryos were a bit much, but the stuffed hyena reinvigorated me, as I had seen only a mere glimpse of one in the wild. I then learned something interesting about the teeth of the nutria (or coypu, an invasive species from South America) which will continue to grow unchecked if the opposing tooth is broken or extracted.

Nutria tooth trivia

Leaving the room of animal wonders, I headed into the exhibition of Orde Charles Wingate, “The Friend”. Without delving too far into pre-Independence history, Wingate was a British officer who, upon reading the Bible, took great interest in helping the Jewish pioneers in their struggle for freedom. In 1938, Wingate established the Special Night Squads that were composed of both British soldiers and Jewish “notrim” or Auxiliary Police who were then trained as mobile ambush units. As the time went on, Wingate would fill his ranks with an increasing percentage of Jewish soldiers and his actions, controversial yet successful, began to show to his superiors in the field and back in London. There was a change of policy towards the Jews in 1939 and the SNS was disbanded, with Wingate being transferred to Burma. The success of the SNS left a deep mark in the Jewish pioneers and the unit itself has been thought of as a forerunner to the elite British SAS that we know of today.

Orde Charles Wingate

Leaving the building, I walked the archaeological garden outside, stocked with pillars, presses, sarcophagi and more, all temporarily unlabeled due to renovations. Bidding farewell to the helpful guides, I took a quick look at the kibbutz’s derelict Founders’ Courtyard with the scattered farm tools and equipment which helped create the kibbutz, and then headed for my next destination: Beit Alpha.

Founders’ Courtyard

Perhaps the smallest national park, Beit Alpha is only one large room with a reception/gift shop and outdoor covered courtyard. But it’s the contents of that one room that gives the site its importance – the excavation of a 1,500 year old synagogue.

Beit Alpha Synagogue mosaic floor

Notably the first Jewish excavation held in modern times, the synagogue was discovered by members of the Beit Alpha and Hefzi-Ba kibbutzim in 1928. Unearthing was done the following year and the elaborate mosaic floors uncovered are known to be among the most beautiful and best preserved in the country. Prior to seeing the whole floor bathed in light, a video is played with actors recreating the scene of what could possibly have been the thought process behind the synagogue’s design. As several of the mosaic details seem “off”, it is believed that sections or designs were simply copied from the ancient synagogues of nearby Tiberias, which was a centre of Judaism at the time.

Artist’s imagination of the Beit Alpha Synagogue building

The artists who created the Beit Alpha mosaics, Marianos and his son Hanina, were also listed as the ones creating mosaics in neighbouring Bet Shean, which is logical as mosaic floors were all the rage during the late Roman periods. Even seemingly idolatrous constructions of Greco-Roman gods, such as Helios seen here in the centre of the zodiac, were also seen as something acceptable and perhaps even beautiful from a cultural point of view. With the different areas being illuminated by spotlight throughout the video, in-depth explanations of iconographic significance were afforded to the modern spectator. When the show was over, the lights went on and I took a full loop around the room, taking photographs from various angles.

Closer look at the mosaic

With a new group entering to watch the video anew, I headed out and glanced over the information outside concerning ancient synagogues in northern Israel, predominately found in the eastern Galilee and the western Golan. Having eaten my lunch in the national park’s sukkah, I got back in the car and drove off to my next destination: Bet Shean.

The other week I went on a two-part trip, of two consecutive days, to Bar’am and the surrounding area, not far east of Ma’alot in the Galilee. The first trip was with my parents and my brother and we were only going with the purpose of visiting some graves (keverim) of sages and prophets of yore. We drove on the Old Northern Road and then turned onto Road 8967, passing the national park of Bar’am and pulling over at the signs denoting keverim.

Kever of Nachman Chatufa

The first kever was that of Nachman Chatufa, a boy wonder of sorts who was born some 1,500 years ago speaking words of Torah and prophesies upon birth. Shocked, his father muted him and it wasn’t until Nachman’s 12th birthday that he opened his mouth releasing a torrent of prophesies – then fell over and died. The second kever, about a hundred metres south, is that of Mar Zutra, an Amora who lived in Babylon some 1,400 years ago or so. When we were leaving Mar Zutra’s kever we noticed that there was an old archaeological dig between the kever and the old Christian cemetery of Bar’am (or as they’d say, Biram). Upon closer examination we found “abandoned” and unmarked wall sections still partially buried, a carved stone that looks like it might be an ornate lintel or something along those lines and, of course, loads of potsherds.

Unnamed archaeological dig

I’m very curious to learn more about this dig but haven’t found anything online and I’m waiting to hear back from the Antiquities Authority. A hundred and forty metres north of Nachman Chatufa’s kever is the grave of the prophet Ovadya (Obadiah), of Biblical fame. It was he who hid one hundred prophets from the wrath of the wicked king and queen of Israel at the time, Ahab and Jezebel, sustaining them in their cave hideouts until he depleted his great reserves. It was also he who was the “pawn” in arranging the meeting between King Ahab and Eliyahu (Elijah) the Prophet before the famous sacrificial showdown on Mount Carmel. I found his story and his kever location to be most interesting. We drove back home after that, and it was on the next day around noontime that I set out again to visit more sites in the area – this time alone.

Overgrown ruins of Bar’am

I began with the Bar’am National Park, which we had visited as a family years ago before I started my blog, hosting one of the most beautiful ancient synagogues in the country. One of the smallest national parks I’ve ever been to, there are many unmarked ruins of houses around the parking lot and then pieces from the great synagogue on display.

Synagogue pieces on display

The showcase of the park is, of course, the aforementioned synagogue from the Talmudic era. With excavations on the synagogue starting in 1905, the magnificent columned structure had been slowly uncovered and its architecture and layout have proven most interesting to researchers.

Bar’am’s main synagogue

There is another, smaller synagogue just a few hundred metres from the main synagogue that was discovered even earlier by a British survey team. The lintel, with an inscription by Yosef HaLevi – the stonemason who carved it, now resides at the Louvre Museum in Paris with a replica being held at the Bar-Dor Museum in Kibbutz Bar’am. Unfortunately, this smaller synagogue is unmarked so I cannot be sure if I saw it or not. Just after the main synagogue is an old church of the Maronite sect of Christianity, with the remains of their village Biram which was built on the remains of the ancient Jewish settlement.

Entrance to the Maronite church

After leaving the national park, I kept driving a bit further on the Old Northern Road until I reached a small access road to the peak of Mount Shifra (elevation: 730 metres) where KKL-JNF built an observation tower. When I reached the top I was disappointed to see the area blocked off due to construction – I can only hope that they are improving the Bar’am Tower. Abandoning the area I drove back west until I got to the Pa’ar Cave, parking at the roadside gravel lot. Getting out of my car I noticed something strange at the edge of the parking lot… What I found were two or three wild boar corpses being consumed by maggots, presumably the results of hunting/poisoning from the way they were laid out (just guesswork).

Fan-fingered gecko

What I found next, in the grass nearby, brought me great joy – a clean skull! Unfortunately, the impressive tusks are on the lower jaw which becomes separated from the skull after decomposing, but there are still smaller tusks on the upper jaw – this image is the best I can find to illustrate the layout of boar jaws. Grabbing some newspaper I claimed my prize and the skull is now in my backyard getting sun-bleached everyday until it is fit for displaying. With the skull safely locked in the car I headed on over to the cave, just about a hundred metres from the road via a dirt trail. When I reached the cave I could hear the sounds of humanity emanating from the chasm, as a group of merry-makers had also chosen this hour to visit the cave.

Visitors in the Pa’ar Cave

And so I shared my brief spelunking experience with these fine individuals, enjoying the light of their flashlights as I had forgotten to pack one. I intend to return one day and properly explore this karstic sinkhole as I’ve heard the cave goes very deep/far and I’d like to verify that myself.

Pa’ar Cave from the outside

Continuing on to my trip’s final destination, I drove up the nearby Mount Adir (elevation: 1,008 metres) to hike the brief summit trail. Just as I was reaching the peak I saw what I believe was an eagle of sorts taking flight from a fence post; I’d love to have gotten a picture. At the new top I parked and continued on foot headed along the trail with the green marker to the Mount Adir lookout. Dedicated in 2012 to the soldiers who died in battle during the Second Lebanon War (2006), the wooden balcony provides a great view overlooking Lebanon, including many of the battle sites where Israeli lives were tragically lost. One thing that piqued my interest was looking down on the Tegart fort on Mount Metat (interestingly enough, the gematria of Metat in Hebrew is 840 and the mountain’s elevation is 840 metres above sea level).

Mount Adir lookout over the border

Having read that there was an ancient fortress discovered and partially uncovered from the 1960’s, I set out on the green trail to find it. Continuing onward and onward along the flat peak, I circumvented a military installation and discovered that I was actually heading down the mountain back towards the Pa’ar Cave. Unable to ascertain whether or not the green trail was circular I turned back and it was when I was passing a rusted piece of army bunker, along the northen edge of the summit, that I noticed a wall partially uncovered. I believe that this must be the ancient fortress, which is thousands of years old and is believed to have been built by the Phoenicians. With that I headed back to the car, pausing briefly to examine the remains of a kestrel in the grass, and drove back down the mountain to home.

Continuing on with the trip my father and I took to the city of Tiberias in August of last year, we left the Old City and drove up the hillside in search for a number of keverim – holy tombs of Jewish sages. Being that Tiberias is one of Judaism’s four holy cities (the others being Jerusalem, Hevron and Tzfat), the Jewish presence was strong in the lakeside town for thousands of years. Many great rabbis called Tiberias and the surrounding villages their home, and thus many were buried throughout the city over the generations.

The Maimonides Heritage Center

Our first stop was to the kever of the Rambam (Maimonides), a great scholar, philosopher, author and physician who lived in Spain and North Africa in the 1100’s. Interestingly enough, the Rambam was appointed physician to Saladin (of Crusader fame) and it is believed that through his position in the Ayyubid sultan’s court he was able to ransom Jewish captives from the hands of the Crusaders. The Rambam passed away in Egypt and his body was taken to Tiberias for burial, where today it is a city landmark.

Jews of all sorts praying at the kever of the Rambam

We spent a few minutes at the kever, pausing at neighbouring keverim of earlier sages such as the Tannaim R’ Elazar ben Arach and R’ Yehoshua ben Chananya (who was the Rosh HaYeshiva in Peki’in). Among the many other great sages buried there include Rav Ami and Rav Asi – both Amoraim – as well as R’ Eliezer ben Hyrcanus of Mishnaic fame. One really strange burial site was simply named “collection of bones”- I wonder whose bones and from what era…

Conjoined keverim of early sages

Overlooking the kever of the Rambam is the Maimonides Heritage Center which has a small museum on the Rambam as well as hosting various activities and events for groups. Chronicling the life, the works and the legacy of the Rambam, there is much to be learned for all visitors of the centre. Rabbi Michael Schachter was gracious enough to give us the full guided tour – which we found rather informative.

Rabbi Michael Schachter

Taking leave of the Maimonides Heritage Center we drove up the hill to the kever of R’ Akiva, one of the greatest Jewish sages of all time, who was martyred by the Romans. Of humble beginnings, R’ Akiva married the daughter of the wealthy Kalba Savua of Jerusalem and then, after being ostracised by his father-in-law, left to study – through great self-sacrifice for both him and his new bride, Rachel. Beginning in the yeshiva of the aforementioned R’ Eliezer ben Hyrcanus, R’ Akiva rose to lofty spiritual heights and amassed 24,000 students in the course of twelve years. After the failed revolt of Bar Kochba, R’ Akiva was sentenced to death by the Romans and was buried on the hillside above ancient Tiberias.

Inside the kever of Rabbi Akiva

Beside the kever of R’ Akiva is the kever of the Ramchal (or R’ Moshe Chaim Luzzatto), a rabbi, kabbalist and philosopher from the 1700’s. Born in Italy and having spent time in Amsterdam, the Ramchal’s teachings were often rejected by the local rabbinate and his books were even burned. Frustrated, the Ramchal moved to the Holy Land and settled in port city of Akko. Tragically, he and his family perished in a plague but his teachings live on as a staple for self-improvement and piety. From the stone plaza just outside these two keverim, the most magnificent view of Tiberias and the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) is to behold.

Looking down at Tiberias and the Kinneret

Stopping off briefly at a supermarket for lunch supplies, we continued south until we reached the kever of Rachel, the wife of R’ Akiva – a saint in her own right. Overlooking a waterpark and the ancient Jewish cemetery, we stopped to both pray and take pictures.

Remains of the ancient Jewish cemetery

Back on the road, we drove along the water passing two sites I intend to visit on a later trip: Berko Archaeological Park and Hamat Tiberias (hot springs held in great value since antiquity). Our final destination was the kever of R’ Meir Ba’al HaNes (who name translates to R’ Meir the Miracle Maker), another great sage from the period of the Tannaim. A student of R’ Akiva – one of the only five to survive the terrible plague, R’ Meir requested to be buried in the Holy Land in a place where the water would lap at his grave. And so, when he passed away, his body was brought to rest at the foot of the low mountains along the banks of the Kinneret.

The R’ Meir Ba’al HaNes complex

We had lunch at the tables outside the complex and then entered to visit and pray. Afterwards, we called it a day and headed back home, missing yet a few of the important keverim that we didn’t know about at the time. Another trip is now most certainly in order…

Nearly a full year ago, shortly before going on the wine tour (starting with the Tishbi Winery in Zichron Ya’akov), I went on a day trip to Tiberias (also known as Tverya) with my father. Although being a very important city historically, and just a short drive away, Tiberias hadn’t been at the top of my lists and has therefore been neglected for far too long. However, I shall now right that wrong and regale the tale of our journey.

Tiberias in the 1920’s

We started out early in the morning, grabbing some borekas and a sfinj (Moroccan doughnut) from the local Peace Bakery. We stopped once along the way, just minutes from Meron, at some ancient graves of Jewish sages, which dot the Galilee with their mystical blue domes. Shortly thereafter, we were driving along the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) on Israel’s longest highway – Road 90 – and we entered Tiberias from the north. Searching for the visitor information centre in the Old City, we parked and went to pay for parking at the designated machine. When we returned, a parking violation ticket was sitting on the windshield and so we went on a merry chase demanding justice, for our ticket and the parking slip we purchased were time-stamped at the same time, to the minute. We ended up in a government office where we filled out a form protesting our fine and with that hiccup taken care of, started our tour of Tiberias.

The visitor centre building with ruins of an ancient synagogue

Picking up information at the visitor centre, which is actually housed inside old ruins of an ancient synagogue – one of the city’s thirteen mentioned in the Talmud, we started our walk around the Old City. Right beside the parking lot is the Court of the Jews, the first modern Jewish community founded in 1740 during the era of the Bedouin ruler Daher al-Omar. Surrounding this cobblestone square are a handful of synagogues and yeshivas of various antiquity. The oldest, the Etz HaChayim Synagogue, was built in 1742 by Rabbi Chaim Abulafia of Smyrna and was a major centre for religion in the region for many years. Due to Tiberias’ location on a faultline, the city was wracked numerous times by violent earthquakes, and in 1934 a great flood ravaged Tiberias, permanently reshaping its coastline.

The Old Synagogue from 1836

Beyond the synagogue is the gate of the Crusader fortress, a wooden bridge crossing over an empty moat, with the old Jewish quarter now covering the remains of the Crusader fortress. During the Crusader times, the city changed hands a few times before the Mamluks finally drove the Franks permanently out five years after stopping the Mongol invasion some thirty kilometres southwest of the city. Reaching the waterfront, we walked along the boardwalk watching the boats sail against the hazy backdrop of the low mountains on the Golan side of the Kinneret.

Southern end of the Old City with Mount Berniki in the background

With the water level of the Kinneret being a national concern, Israel’s water company Mekorot installed a water level surveyor on the boardwalk to publicly display the current level. Last post (Yarkon National Park) mentioned how most of the country gets its water, and it’s at the Kinneret where the artifical journey begins. Now it is the summer, Israel’s dry season, so the water level reports are mostly the gradual evaporation of the Kinneret but during the winter and spring, the water levels rise dramatically after heavy storms and there is actually a Twitter account dedicated to reporting the water levels throughout the year: @kinbot.

Mekorot water level surveyor

With the current levels being “below red lines”, it is hard to imagine the flood of 1934 which destroyed a good portion of the city, and there are even markers today which show just how far the water reached on the walls of the lakeside buildings. We peeked into the Tiberias Rowing Club and then passed the Greek Orthodox Monastery whose leaning corner tower has become quite an icon in the Old City. Visiting the rocky, and surprisingly littered, beach we then walked back towards the heart of the city alongside the old Crusader wall (rebuilt by Daher al-Omar), enclosing the city from the south, under the shade of beautiful orange-blossomed royal poincianas.

Tiberias’ Leaning Tower

In the shadows of numerous hotels, we found our way to the abandoned al-Omari mosque, hidden behind a strip of closed storefronts. A local informed us that the city plans to renovate the area and make it more of an attraction; I wonder if the mosque will get similar treatment.

al-Omari mosque

We continued heading north, walking among the dark grey stone buildings until we reached the Saraya. A large Ottoman government building, sarayas can be found in several old Israeli cities including Tzfat (Safed) and Akko, where the regional commands was located. Tiberias’ Saraya is two floors; the upper being the governor’s residence and office while the lower floor contained jail cells and stables for the Ottoman postal service. Slightly further north is the Fortress built by Daher al-Omar’s son with its impressive tall basalt walls and round corner towers.

Tiberias Fortress

When we were done looking around the fortress area, and we were sure we saw everything of interest in the Old City, we returned to the car for the second leg of our Tiberias trip – coming next!

The other week I took a bus to Karmiel one morning and then another bus heading east to Kibbutz Parod. I had a whole slew of places to visit and explore, starting with a megalithic mound known as Jethro Cairn (or Gal Yitro, in Hebrew). Approximately 500 feet (150 metres) long and 66 feet (20 metres) wide, this crescent-shaped pile of lichen-spotted rocks made news last year when findings were announced by Hebrew University PhD student Ido Wachtel, naming it older than the Pyramids and Stonehenge, as seen HERE in an article by Live Science.

Jethro Cairn from above

Believing the site to be a monument consecrated to the pagan moon god Sin, there is also a religious connection to the Druze people who live locally in the Galilee and Golan. Historically, if a Druze had trouble making the annual pilgrimage to the shrine of al-Nabi Shu’ayb (what they believe is the Biblical Jethro’s tomb located not far from Mount Arbel), he would make do with visiting Jethro Cairn. Starting from the fragrant pine forest along the road, I climbed up the hill in search for the cairn. Up and up I went, even crossing through an inconvenient barbed wire fence – the first of many to hamper my explorations that day. At last I reached the large mound of rocks, and walked the entire length of the crescent, taking in the view including a Tegart fort in the distance to the east.

Jethro Cairn with the Tegart fort far off to the upper left

That irksome barbed wire fence even found its way cutting across the cairn. When I reached the other end I found an easier way down the hill and made my way to the dry streambed of Nachal Tzalmon. Following the trail I passed the access road to Parod and found a sign naming the path as the Parod Falls Trail, with a series of things to see. Starting with a small aqueduct I came across two keverim (graves) of sages: R’ Nechemya HaAmusi and R’ Yishmael.

Kever of R’ Yishmael on the banks of the stream

Both having lived in the Roman period when the Second Temple was destroyed, these Tannaim likely lived in the nearby ancient Jewish villages that I came to see. After some quick prayers I carried on, walking along the stream which, at this time of year, only had small puddles of water between the numerous tiny would-be falls. I passed two caves, ancient agricultural terraces and an ancient flour mill before reaching a gate on a dirt road. Climbing it, I turned out of the stream’s valley to hike up a hill to the west – Tel Be’er Sheva of the Galilee. Not to be confused with Tel Be’er Sheva in the Negev, this hill in the Galilee was once the home of a vibrant Jewish village prior to the Great Revolt against the Romans. And so I fought my way through the thorns and brambles, the hill’s peak coming ever closer. At last I reached the top and after surveying the peak, realised that the remains were hardly anything to be seen, just meagre wall bits beside a cow carcass.

Meagre wall ruins of Tel Be’er Sheva

As I made my way towards the southern slope of the hill I found this mysterious insect that I haven’t yet identified, which I had seen and mentioned on my last post, Nachal Ga’aton.

Mysterious insect

Walking down the southern side proved to be much nicer and I even found an interesting crystal nodule that caught my eye by glinting in the sun. At the near-bottom of the hill I found a pit that was partially closed off with fence and barrels, and, when I went inside turned out to be a necropolis with so many bones (and even a mummified puppy). Escaping the cistern of death, I then explored the nearby Ottoman-era vaulted building of unknown purposes.

Inside the Ottoman structure

Finished with that hill, I crossed Nachal Tzalmon once again and attempted to visit another kever or two as well as the ruins of Kfar Hannania on the opposing slope. Believed to have been a just a support satellite of the fortified Be’er Sheva during the Great Revolt, eventually the populations settled in the more convenient location of Kfar Hannania, abandoning the strategic hilltop. Heading for a few visible rock walls I encountered a barbed wire fence that was too difficult to get through. I continued along the fence heading south, along the natural curve of the hill, but eventually gave up and walked back to Road 85. Crossing at the junction, I paid a visit to the keverim of R’ Abba Khalafta and his sons, R’ Yossi and R’ Shimon.

Keverim of R’ Abba Khalafta and sons

There I met the friendly caretaker who offered me cold water and drove me over to a nearby group of keverim, sparing me from the walk in the heat. I first visited the kever of R’ Eliezer ben Ya’akov – a very interesting two-floored grave with a shallow cave where people light memorial candles. Next I walked up and nearly missed the kever of R’ Ya’akov – just a few blue painted rocks beneath a small tree covering a tiny cave. Just a few feet further I entered the mausoleum of R’ Chananya ben Akashia and his family and students.

Kever of R’ Chananya ben Akashia

I spent a little while there and then left, passing some stone wall ruins of Kfar Hannania before reaching the bus stop that I needed to take me back to Karmiel and then back home.

Last week’s adventures took me to the nearby Nachal Ga’aton, a small stream that starts seasonally between Mi’ilya and Meona and drains into the Mediterranean in the heart of Nahariyah. Being that Meona and Mi’ilya are neighbors with Ma’alot here in the Galilee, my father easily dropped me off in Meona and I began my 13-kilometre hike in the industrial section of the town. Eager to leave the rank smell of chicken coops behind me, I skipped some interesting little things to see, hurrying along on the paved road. It was when passing a mushroom manufacturing plant that I finally got on the Nachal Ga’aton trail (marked blue). Immediately descending into the woods, the trail followed the dry Marva stream (below Tel Marva) until it reached the dry Nachal Ga’aton.

The trail crossing with a dry Nachal Ga’aton

The hike was rather uneventful until suddenly I spotted a wild boar in the bushes up ahead. It was nosing around in the leaves and didn’t notice me. I began to quake in my shoes, considering my options. Making a snap decision I took a few silent paces back and then strode forth with a false sense of confidence, making sure to make ample noise. Pretending like I didn’t notice the beast worked rather well, and, after a gut-churning grunt/snort, the wild boar dashed up the gentle slope, followed by four other boars. Seizing the opportunity, I found myself a nice stick to be my protective companion. A few minutes later I crossed paths with an elderly man holding a huge club – no doubt his tried-and-true boar crusher.

What looks like an old wall in the woods

Continuing along the dry rock-filled streambed I spotted yet another wild boar. Due to the fact that I walk rather quietly (a practice harkening back to my youth when I chased whitetail deer in Michigan’s bountiful nature parks), and the fact that I was upwind, I always see the wild boars before they detect me. I stepped back a few paces and began filming the boar edging into the woods when, suddenly, I spotted two striped piglets on the trail headed my way. Backing up away from the advancing piglets, not wanting the mother to spot me and think bad thoughts, I kept going further and further back – and the curious little squeakers kept coming.

A curious wild boar piglet

There were some noises in the bush and the piglets left me. Waiting a good five minutes or so, I figured it was now safe to continue – but just as I passed I saw a boar just mere feet from me in my peripheral. It just grunted as I walked by, and my heart skipped some beats in fear. Resorting now to dragging my stick on the ground beside me, making plenty of noise, I next reached a clearing with many large eucalyptus trees and picnic tables. It was there that I had lunch, and continued on in the direction of some nearby springs, reaching the beautiful Ga’aton ruins with ease.

Ga’aton ruins overgrown with grass and wildflowers

It’s at these ruins that Nachal Ga’aton finally sees some water and beside the bridge is a little pool perfect for children.

Bridge over Nachal Ga’aton

As it is spring- the season of growth, the ruins were overrun with tall grass and wildflowers and I was slightly apprehensive of running into a snake or two – and being that this wasn’t my first time visiting the ruins, I was content with visiting just one building.

Ga’aton ruins

The ruins were most recently a Ottoman farmhouse owned by the Sursuqs of Lebanon (one of Beirut’s aristocratic Christian families) having been built on old Crusader remnants. Climbing to the second floor of one building, I found a nice place to sit and look out at the ruins below – watching a kestrel fly about searching for prey.

Kestrel in the tree

After sitting for a spell, I took up my walking stick and left the ruins, walking along the now watery Nachal Ga’aton. When I hit Road 8833 (the road to Yehiam and Ga’aton), I turned right towards the large quarry and then took the bike trail in the direction of Kabri – still walking parallel to Nachal Ga’aton. It was on this nice bike trail that I saw an enormous grasshopper, almost mistaking it to be a small bird. Heat waves rose up on the trail before my eyes, and the hollyhocks added a nice splash of colour to the various shades of brown and green looking out to the sea.

Hollyhocks among the green and brown to the sea

Soon I reached netted banana fields flanking the trail, and then, just half a kilometre from Road 70 and the Kabri Junction, I came upon the Western Galilee Regional School and swung north on the access road to visit the last two things on my mental checklist. The first was the KKL-JNF Kabri Archaeological Park, which is free to visit although they prefer prior reservations. Inside I found three themes of artefacts: olive oil, corn and wine. The largest is the olive oil section, with many grindstones and presses from different time periods and locations including a reconstructed Roman-era olive oil press from the Zabadi ruins just 5.5 kilometres north near the Old Northern Road.

Zabadi olive press

Then there are four types of corn grinders starting with the archaic saddle quern and then the most modern rotary hand mill likely introduced to the area by invading Roman soldiers. And finally, a winepress from the Tanach period excavated at the foothills of the Gilboa range near the Jordan River Valley. Using giant blades and diamond-toothed chainsaws, KKL-JNF and the Antiquities Authority were able to extract the 24-ton behemoth from the bedrock and transport the intact winepress to the park to be exhibited. I think it would be cool if they bottled and sold wine made from the press, or at least had hands-on activities on-site. When I finished at the archaeological park I went across the access road to the remains of an ancient flour-mill which likely used water from the stream to power the grindstones.

Ancient flour mill

Nachal Ga’aton keeps on flowing all the way to Nahariyah, slicing through the centre of the city and then empties into the Mediterranean but I wrapped up my trip where I was, taking the bus back home – my first time paying for public transportation since being released from the army.

Last week, in attempts to ensure I take at least one bloggable trip a week, I turned to my own backyard – Nachal Kziv. While this is my third post (after I and II) about this beautiful stream that snakes across the Western Galilee, the focus of this trip wasn’t really the stream itself but rather the sites on the flanking mountains and cliffs above. And so, I set out in the late morning from the Zeitim neighbourhood of Ma’alot, walking the winding paved road down to the stream.

A patient dragonfly at Nachal Kziv

I had an optimistic feeling that I’d see some interesting animals – ideally the Persian fallow deer, which I’ve only seen once before. I reached the water at Ein Ziv and passed the Crusader mill, walking along the stream. After crossing the stream once, I spotted somethings dark and foreboding up ahead on the trail. They spotted me just moments after I had spotted them, and the wild boars stepped out to size me up.

Wild boars on the trail

If perhaps to set the dangerous scene properly – man vs nature – an unseen wolf began to howl nearby. Knowing that I was doomed if I were to continue as is, I backed up out of eye-line and found a hefty stick to wield, just in case.

My hefty stick for defense against wild boars

When I returned to where the wild boars were, I found that they had disappeared into the woods. Phew! I had avoided a frightening confrontation… Now, just to clarify, wild boars are the absolute worst animal to run into while hiking in Israel. While not inclined to attack you, the wild boar is certainly self-assured that it could put a mere human in his place – and at a maximum weight of some 300 kilo (660 lbs), their opinion is justified. The ones I came across, including those pictured above, are relatively medium-sized females. Some more frightening facts about the wild boar is that they can upturn rocks weighing 45 kilo (100 lbs), they can run 40 km/h (25 mp/h) and they can just jump to the height of 140-150 cm (4.5-5 feet) in the air – plus they have large canine teeth, which grow into wicked tusks on the males. The wild boars in Israel have no real natural predators, other than the wolf, which could probably only take down a juvenile boar. While most wild animals in Israel run away when they see humans, these wild boar first stood their ground and then issued a threatening rumble which sounded exactly like any subsonic noise portrayed by a troll in the movies.

A meeting of trails

Slightly on-edge, I continued on with my hike on the easy gravel trail until I reached the sign marking the black trail to Abirim Fort and turned to climb the mountain. A far more rugged trail, I was occupied with my progress when suddenly I heard a very loud rumble/snort of a wild boar (or many wild boars) very close by, far too close for comfort. I immediately dashed for a tall rock where I would stand my ground in relative safety. I could hear the boar(s) and I was sure they could hear me (and my panicking heart) but I could not see them. I strained my eyes, looking through the underbrush and among the large rocks – nothing. After a few minutes had passed, I inched over to a tree and climbed it before announcing my presence. With no bone-chilling swine calls echoing my own shouts, I felt reassured that I was back to being alone and continued up the mountain, tightly gripping my hefty stick.

The black trail up the slope

It wasn’t for another twenty minutes or so of uphill hiking that I had my next wild boar encounter. At this point I was getting rather tired of being scared and when I spotted these wild boars I took some quick photos before running off to hide once detected, including this one of little piglets nursing beyond the foliage:

Piglets nursing from the mother boar

I tripped over some random wire in the grass as I found my new high ground and waited for these wild boars to either attack me or disappear. Thankfully, they vanished and I was able to continue on to the clearing where the blue trail for the Temple Cave started. Feeling a sense of déjà vu as I hiked back downhill, just on the adjacent slope, I marveled at the familiar sight of Ma’alot over the canopy of mountain green.

Ma’alot in the distance

I then came upon a fork in the trail, and correctly took the left path after checking with my phone’s GPS. As I walked the precarious trail overlooking the Nachal Kziv path down below, I noted that I had not seen a single person on my entire hike thus far – and then the sloped field of the cave came into view.

The field before the cave

I found the explanatory sign and looked up at what I came to see – a life-size carving of a Roman soldier on the cliff wall.

The Man on the Wall

Only rediscovered in 1985, this “Man on the Wall” is believed to be over 2,000 years old and mystery shrouds its origins. Beside this fascinating find is the multi-chambered Temple Cave, which I entered to find a burnt ceiling and a powder floor.

From within the Temple Cave

There was also a lone bat, which disappeared, but I found no history or backstory of the cave, nor the origin of its name. After a quick little picnic next to the cave I began the return trip to the clearing, spotting wild boars – yet again – on the trail far below.

Standing outside the Temple Cave entrance

I reached the clearing without incident and then continued back on the black trail towards Abirim Fort. Having been going downhill, then uphill, then downhill, then uphill over and over, it was a relief to be on a relatively flat trail. At last I reached a sign for Abirim Fort and somehow missed the side trail to the ruins, continuing on towards the end of the trail. Turning back, I located the white trail and entered a thicket of small trees, shrubs and large rocks in search for the ruins. I got lost remarkably quickly and it took a very long time for me to find Abirim Fort. When I did finally spot the large light grey ashlars, I climbed up and enjoyed my achievement.

Abirim Fort

Long thought to simply be a fortified Crusader farm, the structure is now believed to have originally been a Roman mausoleum – due to its huge stones and small door.

Front wall and door of Abirim Fort

Attempting to leave the fort, I got lost once again in the impossible thicket. I fell back on survival instincts and battled the endless branches and thorns – forcibly tunneling my way out through the relentless vegetation. At last I emerged on the black trail and reached the road with ease, where I waited for my parents to retrieve me – thanks parents!

Last week my parents and I took a little drive over to the Biriya Forest with two main destinations in mind. However, due to the Galilee being absolutely filled with interesting things to see, the drive turned into a full-fledged day trip. Our first stop was the Shamaya and Avtalyon mikve (ritual bath) and we then turned eastward at Meron Junction and stopped at the roadside kever (grave) of R’ Benaiah the Amora and unnamed others who lived during the 200’s CE. We lit some memorial candles and had a quick prayer before continuing on with our “kever hopping” of Tannaim and Amoraim (Jewish sages from approximately 20 CE to 500 CE living in the Land of Israel and Babylonia). Our next stop was just around the bend at a trail entrance of Nachal Amud, the hillside kever of R’ Kruspedei the Amora (likely “ϰρασπδον” in Ancient Greek) who’s mentioned several times in the Zohar.

Kever of R’ Kruspedei the Amora

We then took the backwoods road to the agricultural community of Kadita, stopping off at the kever of R’ Yossi ben Ya’akov, one of the disciples of the great R’ Shimon bar Yochai. In fact, the domed room on the right is known as the Idra Zuta, where Rashbi taught his final Kabbalistic teachings to his students on his deathbed.

Kever of R’ Yossi ben Ya’akov and the Idra Zuta

After more candle lighting and praying we got back in the car and continued to the kever of R’ Tarfon, one of the most famous Tannaim who lived in the era of Bar Kochba’s revolt against the Romans. Beside the stately grave is a huge wild pistachio tree known fondly as the “Tree of Mercy”.

Kever of R’ Tarfon with the Tree of Mercy stretching out overhead

Leaving Kadita and heading back to Road 89, we turned into the Biriya Forest at Ein Zeitim Junction. Once again leaving the main road, we found ourselves on one of the many scenic forest routes and paused for a quick look-see at Ein Gever spring.

Ein Gever spring

Next we paused to admire the grove of pistachio trees in KKL-JNF’s Pistachia Valley, followed by the first of our main destinations: the Nevoraya Synagogue. Built sometime in the 100’s CE, the synagogue served the Jewish villagers on and off for some 600-700 years, with three known stages of construction. Discovered in 1861, the excavations began in 1905 and today the site was lovingly reconstructed and presented with informational plaques and even interactive activities.

Nevoraya Synagogue

At the bottom of the slope to the west we found the joined kever cave of R’ Eleazar of Modi’in and R’ Ya’akov of Nevoraya. Being the uncle of Bar Kochba, R’ Eleazar HaModa’i took part in the rebellion against the Roman governor Quintus Tineius Rufus and his troops at Beitar – however it is believed that Bar Kochba suspected his uncle’s allegiance and, subsequently, had R’ Eleazar killed (the tragic story can be read HERE on Wikipedia).

Kever cave of R’ Eleazar of Modi’in and R’ Ya’akov of Nevoraya

Leaving the cool burial cave we drove up the adjacent hill in search for an ancient lime kiln. We didn’t see it from the car, but found a nice lookout of Ein Nevoraya spring where the sounds of the frogs croaking below was surprisingly loud. I took a short video of the spring with the frogs that you can see HERE.

Ein Nevoraya spring

Descending the hill we stopped briefly at the spring where I just stood and took multitudes of photos of the multitudes of frogs.

Pond frog in Ein Nevoraya

From there we made a bee-line for Amuka, our second main destination. Home of the kever of R’ Yonaton ben Uziel, Amuka is famous for being the place where single adults come to pray for a spouse. So, I did that there.

Kever of R’ Yonatan ben Uziel in Amuka

On the way back home, so to speak, we stopped at the KKL-JNF Cedar Lookout and listened to the nice audio info station presentation describing the surrounding pine tree forest.

KKL-JNF’s Cedar Lookout

And, last but not least, a visit to the Biriya Fortress – a place I’ve wanted to visit for quite some time now. Back in 1945 Jewish settlers under the mantle of the Palmach took the mountaintop and built the fortress as a defence post and waystation for Jews immigrating from Syria. It wasn’t long before the British had a say in the matter and took the fortress from the Palmach. After a valiant attack/protest, the British relented and the fortress became a symbol of success and perseverance.

Biriya Fortress

While we were there, a drama school was filming a little something about Nicanor and the Romans, and we had to scurry about from room to room – ending off with a grand view from the main tower of the outlaying Biriya Forest and even the Hula Valley far out in the distance.