After leaving the Manara Cliff we headed just a tad further north, still along the top of the mountain ridge, to the outskirts of Moshav Margaliot where ruins of a Crusader castle are to be found. Called Hunin Fortress today, the small castle was built just after the success of the First Crusade during the years 1106-1107. Then, the castle was referred to as Château Neuf (in French) or Castellum Novum (in Latin).

Southern face of the Hunin Fortress

Lately I’ve been reading a lot about the Crusades, particularly their presence here in the Holy Land, after purchasing the phenomenally written book “The Crusades” by Thomas Asbridge. Unfortunately, even after reading about Château Neuf in the book, I didn’t realise that the Hunin Fortress was, in fact, the same castle. Regardless, this book has really fanned the flames of my interests in history – so much so that I’ve been planning trips to the numerous Crusader ruins yet unseen by my two eyes such as Le Destroit, Belvoir and Château Pèlerin.

Side entrance

We pulled over at the side of the road and walked right up to the castle, entering via the small side entrance above. Smaller than the castles at Montfort and Yehiam, the structure is in relatively good shape, despite having a traditional history of being conquered and reconquered with sporadic bouts of destruction. The Ayyubid sultan Saladin, the great arch-enemy of the Crusaders, may have made the most headlines in his dismantling of the Latin Christian kingdom but it was his predecessor, Nur al-Din, who actually conquered and destroyed the Hunin Fortress back in 1167. The Crusaders painstakingly rebuilt the castle in 1178 in fear of Saladin who was bent on the ruination of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem but, alas, Saladin ended up conquering and then destroying the castle in the years 1187 and 1218, respectively. In that same year of 1187, Saladin essentially recaptured the Holy Land from the Crusaders after a resounding victory over King Guy of Lusignan and the Kingdom of Jerusalem (as well as several Military Orders of Knights such as the Templars and the Hospitallers) in the decisive Battle of Hattin which actually took place near Mount Arbel. Here is a modern painting by Syrian artist Said Tahsine (1954) depicting the capitulation of the Kingdom of Jerusalem after the battle, a day which eventually led to the capture of the Hunin Fortress:

King Guy surrendering to Saladin

Using the Israel Antiquities Authority’s webpage (and this image within) about the site’s preservation operation, I am able to learn the identities of the unmarked ruins which we explored. The standing remains are the main vaulted structure and the surrounding wall ruins, including a dry moat dug into the rock-bed – which is now largely filled in with vegetation including fig and pistachio trees. The rest of the castle is lost to the ravages of war and destruction but here is the interior of the main room, called the Gates Structure:

The Gates Structure

From there, along its northern wall, three halls can be seen – called the Eastern, Central and Western Halls. This is the Eastern Hall, the only one with the vaulted ceiling still intact:

The Eastern Hall

And here are the Central and Western Halls, the ceilings caved in and the ground littered with fallen masonry:

The collapsed Central and Western Halls

Outside, after leaving the main structure, I climbed up on the grassy roof and looked out towards Mount Hermon – seeing the IDF outpost Mitzpe Adi on the neighbouring hill and the remains of a wall just below:

Wall ruins, Mitzpe Adi and Mountain Hermon in the distance

Climbing back down, we had our last looks and photos and then headed back into the car. We drove down to Tel Hai and Kiryat Shmona and then south down Road 90 – Israel’s longest road spanning the length of the country from Kiryat Shmona to Eilat. Turning left at Machanayim Junction, we pulled into Free Sandwich for some delicious schnitzel sandwiches. Owned and operated by my senior NCO commander and his wife, the little restaurant has my favourite schnitzel sandwiches, with excellent salads to go along – I highly recommend it. After eating we headed home and plans for my next trip began to formulate…

Following our stops at the Galil Mountain Winery and Tel Kedesh, my sister and I arrived at the upper parking lot to Manara Cliff – but not after a little look-see at the Hussein Lookout. Named after fallen Israeli lieutenant colonel Hussein Amar, a battalion commander in the Golani Brigade, the lookout over the Hula Valley was established and dedicated in his memory following his death in battle in 1996.

The Hussein Lookout

Located on the Naftali Mountains overlooking Kiryat Shmona, Israel’s northernmost city, Manara Cliff offers a great view of the Upper Galilee and Golan area, including Israel’s highest mountain, Mount Hermon. Visiting as we were in the winter, the weather was overcast and the sky looked gloomy. Parking at the upper lot, we entered and found the site pretty deserted – only a few attraction workers and some Yeshiva boys from New York were around. We located the Manara Cliff’s flagship attraction, its cable-car, and waited for it to arrive. The longest cable-car in Israel, at 6,036 feet (1,840 metres – over a mile long!), the ride begins (or ends, depending on where you start) at the top of the 2,460 foot (750 metre) cliff. Since I didn’t get a really great shot of the actual cable-cars, I found one online:

Manara Cliff cable-car (photo by Igor Svobodin, Panoramio)

Speaking of cable-car… as far as I know, Israel has just four cable-cars – Rosh HaNikra, Haifa, Masada and Manara Cliff – so that leaves me with just Masada’s to ride now. Despite having ridden the Haifa cable-car up and down the corner of Mount Carmel, where it juts out into the Mediterranean Sea, I haven’t documented it in my beloved blog so here is a photo that I took back in August 2012:

Haifa cable-car

As we waited for the cable-car we took stock of the view, buffeted by the brisk winds. Here is the Hula Valley looking all hazy, far below:

View of the Hula Valley

When the cable-car made its way to the top we hopped on – quite literally – and down we went. At first we descended quickly but then it slowed down, the majestic beauty sprawled out the scratched glass windows.

The way down…

Such a long ride it was that there was even a halfway stop, where attractions such as rapelling are to be enjoyed. We stayed put and kept descending until we hit the bottom, basically in Kiryat Shmona – about a ten minute ride. As we dropped down the last hundred feet or so, we watched screaming Yeshiva boys riding these little railed sleds along the gentle mountain slope.

“Alpine sledding”

Disembarking, we headed to the ticket office and got tickets for a go at the “alpine sledding”. Seating ourselves comfortably in the little craft, we began our ride. Up, up, up it went, just like a roller coaster… and then the plunge. We whipped around bends and screamed too as we almost flew off the tracks into the jagged rock walls – or so it seemed. About a minute passed from start to finish but it was a good, exhilarating ride. Here is a shot of a particularly picturesque section of the track, the trees and the Naftali Mountain ridge:

Alpine sledding tracks

With that checked off we hopped back into the cable-car for the calm ride back to the top. On the way, I noticed something funny, kestrels (small birds of prey related to falcons) perched on the wires, scouring the ground as they rode up and down the cliff, an effortless alternative to hovering in the air searching for prey. At last, we cleared the final ledge of the Manara Cliff and our cable-car slid into the station. We exited and then subsequently exited the park, heading for our next destination – the ruins of Hunin Fortress (or Château Neuf, as the French Crusaders called it).

After visiting the Galil Mountain Winery my sister and I got back into the car and stopped off at Tel Kedesh, a site I mentally marked some time back. Tel Kedesh is the ruins of an ancient Canaanite village on the Israel-Lebanon border. First documented in the times of Yehoshua (Joshua), the successor of Moshe (Moses) who led the Jewish People into the Holy Land, crossing the River Jordan. Kedesh is described as a Canaanite citadel conquered by the Jews and placed in the dominion of the tribe of Naftali. The mountains of the Upper Galilee, where Tel Kedesh is, are called the Naftali Mountains and internationally connected to the Lebanon mountain range from the north.

Roman temple wall

Road 899 cuts through the ancient tell, but the majority of the excavated ruins are to be found on the eastern half, which is where we explored. A small ruins, we first came upon were sarcophagi (stone coffins) and ruins of what once was a mausoleum during the Roman times. Interestingly enough, the mausoleum survived at least in a partial state until it was thoroughly destroyed by local Arab villagers sometime after 1880.

Roman mausoleum ruins

Although ruins from the earlier ages aren’t visible in what we see now visiting the site, Kedesh was mentioned as one of the few “cities of refuge” during the rule of the Israelites, starting with the era of the aforementioned Yehoshua. Later, the Assyrians captured and destroyed Kedesh along with other keys cities in the Galilee, perhaps most notably, Hazor. When I last tried to visit Hazor I was attacked and bitten in the thigh by a dog… One day I shall endeavour to re-visit the ancient site of extraordinary historical importance.

Sarcophagus

During the Hellenistic period, Kedesh was abandoned after the Jews re-conquered the town from the Greeks. Fast-forward a couple hundred years and Kedesh became known as Cadasa under Roman rule. An important Galilean Roman city, a large temple was constructed and the townsfolk engaged in farming the land, akin to today’s times where vineyards can be seen from the ruins:

Roman temple ruins and grapevines

Here are more ruins from the Roman temple, fancy carved stone blocks and pillars:

Ruins of the temple

Slightly unstable, here is what remains of the Roman temple, signs warning of imminent collapse warning all who dare step close:

The remainder of the Roman temple

As we were leaving, having explored the eastern half of Tel Kedesh, I noticed this slightly charred cow skull in the grass next to the car. We last found a cow skull years back in the Golan whilst searching for the mysterious ruins of Gilgal Refaim (“Wheel of Spirits”), an ancient megalithic monument composed of circles of stone – and that skull now hangs on the wall next to our backdoor.

Slightly charred cow skull

The next stop on our little trip, the cliff and cable-car of Manara Cliff, further up the Naftali Mountains.

Recently I took a day off from my exciting army job and went on a little exploring trip with one of my sisters. We got in the car with some snacks and the camera and off we went, to see a variety of interesting sites in the Upper Galilee area. However, our first stop – Galil Mountain Winery – was not in the itinerary but being spontaneous is also fun so we parked the car and went on inside to see some larger-scale wine production (unlike the boutique production of the Saslove Winery).

Galil Mountain Winery

We entered the modern-looking winery building, located between Kibbutz Yir’on and the Lebanese town of Yaroun (how weird is that?) less than a kilometre from the Israel-Lebanon border. Just looking at the area on Google Maps, the difference between the Israeli land and the Lebanese land is ridiculous. Technically, Lebanon should be able to become a world contender in fine wines. In the aerial shot below, the little town in the middle is Kibbutz Yir’on with the winery just to the left among the vineyards and the scattered town on the left is the Lebanese Yaroun – the border being quite distinguishable:

Aerial shot of the area

Friendly faces greeted us and before long we handed over some coins and began our tour. Starting with the balcony overlooking rows and rows of grapevines, we then moved over to the front of the building where the freshly picked grapes are fed into the hopper which takes grapes and all into the winery for production, filtering out leaves and vines. Our guide then took us into the production plant where numerous stainless steel drums, vats and pipes turn the mulched grape into a fragrant alcoholic beverage. Since we made wine twice in our basement back in America, we knew the answers to some of the tricky questions she asked about wine production.

Huge stainless steel vats

And here is another shot of the production room, looking at the windows of the visitors centre and some office protrusion.

Inside the production room

With the fumes of fermentation greeting us with every step we walked into the next room, the barrel room. Here, wine ages in wooden barrels sealed with silicon – all made of French oak if I’m not mistaken:

Barrels of aging wines

Looping around, we returned to the visitors centre and sat down to watch a short film about the Galil Mountain Winery. Founded in 2000, the winery is jointly owned by Kibbutz Yir’on and the Golan Heights Winery (33% and 67%, respectively). The winery, with vineyards scattered around the Upper Galilee area, produces over one million bottles of wine annually, offering some fourteen blends and varieties. After the video presentation our guide took us into the tasting room where she handed us the wine list and prepared three wines for us to try.

Taste testing the wines

Our first sampling was the Galil Viognier from the local Yiron Vineyard. I had just a small sip, as I’m driving, and we all spoke about the white wine – highfalutin talks about nose and palette. Next, the Galil Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon, my least favourite of the three. And then, the flagship bottle – Yiron. A blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Petit Verdot, this wine was of heavy body and rich palette with berries and toasted oak – and according to them, a slight hint of butter.

Pouring some Yiron wine

When we were done tasting (in my case mere sipping and in my sister’s case downing large quantities of wine – mine and her’s) we bid the Galil Mountain Winery lot “adieu!” and hopped back into the car. Along the road a few minutes later, I took this photo of a vineyard in the low mountains and am attributing it to the aforementioned winery with creative licence.

Vineyards seen from the road

Our next stop was Tel Kedesh…

A while ago – before I got all caught up in my weekly photography challenge “52 Frames” – I took a little visit to Bet She’arim, a magical-looking national park in the Jezreel Valley area near Mount Carmel. I’ve passed it so many times, and had no idea what the park was all about, but when I did end up visiting I was in awe of what I’ve been missing all this time. Clearly one of Israel’s most underrated national parks, Bet She’arim is especially notable for the large necropolis (“city of the dead”) dug out of the limestone bedrock.

A side portal of the cave of Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi

Starting off at the trailhead near the visitor centre, the first few burial caves were all underground, the entrance dug deep even before the cave was created. With the ancient city ruins of Bet She’arim just a little up the hill, this is where the Jewish inhabitants buried their dead some 2,000 years ago. These are relatively small caves with burial slots, belonging to dignitaries such as the “Head of the Sidonian Synagogue” – albeit not open for visitors. Some of the caves have been ransacked by grave robbers, some still not opened.

The Unexcavated Cave

Passing cisterns and “bleachers” carved out of the bedrock, I came upon the “Unexcavated Cave”, “Sarah’s Cave” and the “Cave of the Lulavim (Palm Branches)” – the first cave I was allowed to properly enter.

The Lulavim Cave

Inside, I found chambers with burial spots dug out of the rock, as seen in the ancient catacombs of Avdat and Cafarlet. The burial cave’s heavy stone door is propped up to the side, off its hinges.

From within the Lulavim Cave

Next there were larger caves, belonging to a variety of personages – from the caves of “Loved One” and the “Cloth Merchant” (named Benjamin son of Julius) to the “vault of Edysius, head of the Council of Elders, a man of Antioch”. Since Jews were forbidden at the time to be buried in Jerusalem, due to oppressive Roman rule, Bet She’arim became the new best place to be laid to rest. Jews from all over the known world came to be entombed in their special caves, the inscriptions written in a variety of languages from Greek to Aramaic and, of course, Hebrew.

Swinging engraved stone door

But the best caves, the choicest catacombs – necropoleis in their own right – are the “Cave of Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi” and the “Cave of the Coffins”:

Ornate central door of the cave of Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi

Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi is one of the great leaders of the Jewish People, the “Prince” of the Jews still living in the Holy Land during Roman occupation some 1,800 years ago, just after the death of another renowned leader, Rabbi Akiva. A descendant of King David, Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi took it upon himself to preserve the Oral Law and write down the basics in the form of the Mishnah – the foundation of Jewish Law today. The Sanhedrin (Jewish supreme council) moved around during the tumultuous times following the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem and found itself in Bet She’arim, with Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi at the head of the council. Towards the end of his life, Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi (and the Sanhedrin) moved to Tzippori (Sepphoris) but he always planned on being buried back in Bet She’arim, on land gifted to him by his friend, the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, the last of the “Five Good Emperors”.

Menorah in relief

However, Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi specifically requested that he be interred in the ground itself and not in a sarcophagus. Other Jewish notables were buried in the multi-chambered catacomb, including his two sons, Rabbi Gamliel and Rabbi Shimon, and also Rabbi Chanina the Lesser. However grand Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi’s Roman-sponsored catacomb is, the neighbouring “Cave of the Coffins” remains the largest and most magnificent underground tomb at Bet She’arim.

Regal entrance to Cave of the Coffins

Spanning 75 metres (246 ft) in both length and width, with corridors leading off to numerous chambers, the “Cave of the Coffins” is enormous. In all the rooms, some 135 coffins were found – many notable sarcophagi with relief markings of birds, bull heads, lions, fish, the iconic Jewish menorah and surprisingly, the figures of Nike – a Greek goddess. When I entered the cool underground tomb, I was flabbergasted at how big it was; how long did it take the builders to create it? Small lights here and there illuminated key locations in the tomb, and in one room I found a ladder that took me up to a small window, light streaming in to show me the masses of painstakingly carved stone sarcophagi. The sheer number of coffins with and without their stone lids was absolutely astounding – I just wonder where all the skeletons are now… Since I couldn’t really capture the location on camera, being dark and all, I can only go on raving about it and hope that you too one day shall visit Bet She’arim for yourself.

Sarcophagus from above

The last stop after exiting the incredible “Cave of the Coffins” was the local museum. Built inside a large cistern that was turned into a glass workshop by the workers back then. With a collection of artefacts from the time, including coins and tin coffins, the museum’s centrepiece is a huge block of glass laying on the floor. Discovered by a bulldozer in 1956, the 9-ton slab was eventually studied and determined as poor quality glass made locally by artisans who cooked the huge batch of raw material at the approximate temperature of 1,900°F (1,050°C) for between five and ten days. When the glass slab didn’t turn out as they pleased, they left it for the bulldozer to find.

A 9-ton block of glass

With that I wrapped up my little tour of Bet She’arim’s amazing necropolis saving the ruins of the ancient city nearby for a later date, whenever that may be.

During Chanukah, while I was home, several members of my family and I took a little drive down to Tel Megiddo, in the Jezreel Valley area not far from Haifa. Herein lies the story of our adventure to the ancient city conquered and reconquered over twenty times, a city whose Greek name is Armageddon (a corruption of Har Megiddo, or Mount Megiddo).

Tel Megiddo

The day we visited happened to have been overcast and, despite the faint sunshine sneaking through the clouds, there wasn’t much to be done to improve the photographic element. Thus, my photos are rather lackluster and so I often used the many date palm trees on premise to liven up the scene, as seen here:

Tel Megiddo ruins and a date palm

We began with watching a short video on the history of Megiddo and the important archaeological site it has become now. While the video played I noticed this great photo taken sometime between 1925 and 1939 of the Oriental Institute Expedition of the University of Chicago, funded by John D. Rockefeller, Jr:

Oriental Institute Expedition at Tel Megiddo

Later, in the 1960’s, further excavations were conducted by famed Israeli archaeologist Yigael Yadin for the Hebrew University. Unearthing twenty-six layers of ruins, from the Jews to the Egyptians to the Romans, the same small area was built and rebuilt time and time again over thousands of years. Some of the very interesting historical battles that took place in and around Megiddo include: the Egyptians under Pharaoh Thutmose III vs. the Canaanites of Megiddo and Kadesh (1478 BCE), the Egyptians under Pharaoh Necho II vs. the Kingdom of Judah under King Yoshiyahu (609 BCE) and more recently, the Allied Forces under General Allenby vs. the Ottoman Empire (1918).

Tel Megiddo (photo by IsraelTourism, Flickr)

Entering through the Solomonic gateway, the path winds to and fro with little signs explaining what certain areas are and from what period they come from. Here, amidst a vast spread of short stone walls and partially excavated ruins is more modern looking “northern palace”. Finely cut masonry, the thick walls of the “palace” were originally thought to be from the time of King Solomon, however it is now believed to be dated from the time of King Ahab:

The ”northern palace”

One of the big discoveries was of a Canaanite altar, a large circular mound composed of smaller rocks, buried numerous layers down:

Ruins including a Canaanite altar (centre)

At the far eastern side of the ruins, looking over the Jezreel Valley towards Mount Tavor, the wind played a haunting tune as it whipped through the thin reed-like awning covering the lookout. There, gouged deep through the archaeological mound, many time periods can be looked upon at once – layers built up on the bedrock. Not far is the 450-cubic metre grain pit, lined with stone and straw, believed to be from the days of King Yeruvam (Jeroboam) II some 2,700 years ago. And then, on the western side of the hilltop are the stable complexes. Large to hold nearly 500 horses, the early excavators in the 1920’s and 1930’s believed the lot to be stables however more recent archaeologists suggest that the stables are actually warehouses or barracks. I personally like the stables version, and so does the Israel Parks Authority because many metal horses can be seen on premises, such as the one hiding under the date palm:

The stables

At the very western edge, where the trail seems to lead to nowhere, is the water system – an “L”-shaped shaft cut out of the bedrock to supply the city with water in time of siege. Built during the time of the Israelite kings, the 36-metre (120-foot) deep vertical shaft and the 70-metre (230-foot) long horizontal shaft hooked up to a freshwater spring emerged in a natural cave. They then blocked the cave’s other entrance, the one visible to those outside the city, and camouflaged it.

A stone etching cross-section of the water system tunnel

Here is the renovated tunnel, complete with electrical illumination and a safe wooden walkway:

The 70-metre long tunnel

And here, the modern stairs leading down to the spring from outside the city:

Coming up from the spring

At the top of the staircase coming up from the dank spring, we took the long path back to the park entrance – along the extremely black asphalt road – and returned to our car. From the park we attempted to visit the Juara Museum but when we got there we discovered it was inside an army base and required reservation – maybe I’ll get to visit it one day on my army explorations. After the failed museum visit we headed into Yokneam and got dinner at a popular hummus restaurant, Hummus Eliyahu – highly recommended. Then we went home and lit the chanukiyah.

A little over a week ago I had the pleasure of visiting the nearby Nachal Kziv (Kziv Stream) with a friend of mine who I met in the army, Nechemya from Tzfat. Starting our hike Friday morning, we spent a good seven hours in the park and returned to my house with time to prepare for Shabbat. Walking the long winding road down to the stream, we first stopped at an old Crusader building (which some say was a mill but since there is a mill downstream, I wonder if this building is really another mill or perhaps a different sort of building). Seizing the moment, Nechemya grabbed a metal cable that hung down and climbed up into the second-story window:

Climbing into the second-story window

I joined him, taking an easier side entrance and we found that within the double-room interior, a section of the ceiling had caved in. I thought it looked rather alien, the vegetation hanging down from the illuminated “portal”:

The ”portal” in the ceiling

We continued on with our hike, passing the little Crusader inn and crossing over the stream over and over. At one point we stopped at a rocky streambed and I attempted to find a geode for Nechemya to see. He disappeared behind some boulders and came out holding the biggest geode I have yet seen in Nachal Kziv. Next we took the by-path to the Ein Tamir area – my favourite section of Nachal Kziv which we skipped last time. Due to the fact that it is the end of the summer – the dry season – the water level is quite low. First, the glassy little teaser pool:

The teaser pool

After the first pool we moved over to the interesting area where cold spring water rushes through smooth channels and slides in the bedrock. I love sliding on the slick algae from one pool to the next. Here is a little slide:

A slick algae slide

There are fish and frogs sharing the pools with humans, here is one little frog that decided to go swimming with me:

Little brown frog

And here is another shot of part of the pool area:

The spring water flowing through the rock

Next we attacked the little cave, a veritable tunnel in the rock wall. This is my favourite cave ever – the narrow entrance, the crystal clear cold water, the smooth rocks, the low parts that call for near swimming – it’s the best. Here is the classic bubbly cave interior, looking out after a few feet:

The immediate interior of the cave tunnel

And as we walked in deeper, using Nechemya’s phone as a flashlight, I turned back and took another photo:

And deeper into the cave

And then facing the gloom, another shot:

Going deeper into the dark cave

I can’t state enough how much fun it is to walk through this cave with the cold clear water underfoot. Always wear sandals or similar protective footwear but there aren’t any animals in the cave and the water is numbingly cold which makes walking deeper and deeper a fun experience. At one point Nechemya got really bored and sat down on a rock to play some Candy Crush – can’t blame him…

Playing Candy Crush

Pretty deep into the cave, here is this creepy alien-looking tunnel that goes straight up:

Weird alien-like vertical tunnel

At last we reached the end, had some laughs taking photos in the pitch blackness and then headed back, chattering and shivering as we sloshed and scooted our way through the cold tunnel. At last we saw the light of day at the end of the tunnel and made it out. We broke out into the sunlight soaking wet and somewhat numb from the spring water. We basked in the noon sun, warming ourselves, and then continued on to the main swimming hole. Not surprisingly, the pool was quite shallow and the waterfall at the head was quite small and not the powerful blast of water I remember last time I swam in the pool.

Nachal Kziv’s main swimming hole

One thing that was the same as I remember was the incredible amount of fish that swarm about and nibble on human toes.

Fish

After a little time in the swimming hole we got out and decided to head back. Along the way we went off-trail, looking for adventure. What we found instead was this little waterfall and a miserable water hike with slippery rocks and tons of raspberry vines which scratched us repeatedly:

A gentle little waterfall

In between attacks from the raspberries, I found this tiny little green frog and held him captive for a photo-shoot. This is my favourite photo of him, and one of the last before he jumped away:

Tiny green frog on my finger

Not only do frogs live there, Nechemya found this crab shell – when I asked him to hold it on the end of his finger the eyestalks moved which was creepy in the extreme, so he opted for a bamboo stick:

Crab shell head on bamboo

After fighting our way through the dense thorns and then climbing up a steep dirt bank we found ourselves back on the trail. As we headed back we discussed coming back and climbing the sheer rocks walls that line Nachal Kziv – maybe one day!

Craggy cliff walls

After visiting Achziv, we stopped off at Mi’ilya – an Christian Arab village – on our way back home. For a really long time I’ve been wanting to see the Arak Masada factory which was so near.  At last we entered Mi’ilya for this very purpose.  For those unfamiliar with this alcoholic beverage, arak is an anise-flavoured liquor that is quite popular in the Middle East. We turned into one street, drove about, turned back around and I asked directions. We were in the wrong area. We continued and then, after more asking and more searching, we found the factory! Hidden in a fenced area in the industrial section of Mi’ilya, the factory in a modest third of a warehouse, sandwiched between two other industrial operations.

Arak production (courtesy of Arak Masada)

We arrived just after closing and were told to come back. We did, the following morning, one of my sisters also tagging along. I greeted the owners, brothers Wadia and Jeryis Hadid, with “sabach al-chir” (“good morning” in Arabic) and after words of greeting and introduction, Jeryis began to show us around the modest factory.

Jeryis Hadid, one of the owners

The two Christian Arab brothers teamed up with a Lebanese man named Shukri Al-Hayak who, after serving in the Israeli-operated South Lebanese Army, found refuge in Israel after the IDF withdrawal of 2000. The trio then went ahead and began to produce their own arak, based off the Lebanese recipe that Shukri brought with him.

The distillery (courtesy of Arak Masada)

Their arak distilling process goes as follows: First, grapes are poured into vats and stirred for several hours daily. Instead of pressing or squeezing the grapes, the stirring slowly breaks down the grape skin and the juices flow naturally. After twenty-something days in the vat the fermenting grapes are then brought to a boil, the vapourised juice rising up and making its way into the little pipe, as seen below:

Close-up of the copper distillers

The juice then travels along inside a pipe, inside a long vat of cold water, and eventually drains out the far end, and into containers. Anise is then added to the liquid and the distinct taste of arak is born.

Anise (courtesy of Arak Masada)

The arak is then put into large containers and is stored above the bottling station, where a hose is led down to release a whole new batch of ready arak to the market.

Arak waiting to be bottled

Arak Masada makes three types of award-winning araks: Alwadi, Kafroon and Jabalna – and we tried them all. The premium label, Alwadi, happens to be my favourite and while I don’t really like arak, I found the Alwadi to be rather flavourful and not just a powerful mouthful of anise. The Alwadi arak is uniquely triple-distilled and costs nearly twice as much as the others. The Kafroon, the second best, is also flavourful – however in a very different way, and the Jabalna tastes pretty much like regular arak. How the taste varies so much is beyond me, but each label tastes a world of its own in an anise galaxy.

Alwadi Arak

These upcoming weeks are when the grapes are coming in and so, before we left, Jeryis asked us if we wanted to come help with the grapes (they need Jewish workers handling the grapes). I couldn’t attend, due to my demanding army position, but my sister decided to test it out and bottling arak there with a friend. How cool is that, to be able to boast that one once made Lebanese arak in a modest little factory? Definitely my kind of thing…

For those interested in visiting the factory, here is their site (available in Hebrew, Arabic and English).

Last week, during Chol HaMoed Sukkot, my father and I took a little trip over to Achziv, a small national park preserving ruins and a little section of tide pools and beach. Despite living here for over four years now, we have never really found this place. There is another beach a bit south which is called Achziv (Banana Beach) and then there is the Betzet Beach a bit north that is open and free all the way up to Rosh HaNikra – where we usually go for a pleasant trip to the Mediterranean Sea.

Achziv Beach

Achziv is the end of the Nachal Kziv (Kziv Stream) which runs from Mount Meron to the Mediterranean, just north of the Achziv park. The Achziv site includes ruins from numerous eras including the Canaanite, Biblical Jewish, Phoenician and Arab. A coastal city, Achziv was utilised by many civiliasations and empires, focusing on its location between Akko and Tyre – both ancient coastal cities.

Elegant ruins on the beach

In the Crusader era (possibly my favourite era of ancient times), in 1104, a fortress was built and called “Casal Humberti”, designed to protect the coastal road leading down to Akko, which was, for a period, the Crusader capital in the Holy Land. A stone tablet with Christian symbols found onsite is now on display at the Louvre in France. In 1256, the Achziv region was leased to the Teutonic Knights who commanded the nearby Montfort, the castle near my house.

Cactus and mosque

Later, during the Mamluk and Ottoman eras, a village called El-Zeeb was founded and sometime during this time, the above mosque was built. Achziv, or to be more precise, the bridge over the stream just north, saw action in 1946 when the Israeli resistance group, the Palmach, attempted to blow up the bridge in efforts to isolate Israel and prevent neighbouring and the local British armies from advancing and receiving reinforcements by rail. With fourteen Palmach members killed, the Achziv bridge was the only failure in the “Night of the Bridges” operation.

Choppy coastline to Rosh HaNikra

After passing the ruins, we descended to the water and climbed onto the rocks leading to the tide pools and rock shelves. The water was cool and the rocks were uber-grippy, the porous texture a safe surface for walking. However, the rough, craggy rock is very sharp and so falling is ill-advised.

Razor-sharp porous rock

Looking back at the calm swimming area – or shall I say, lagoon – there was a pleasant blend of warm shallow water, soft sand and ancient stone ruins on the shore that makes Achziv Beach quite picturesque:

Swimmers in the lagoon

I scoured the tide pools looking for sea creatures, hoping to find an octopus in particular. Back when we lived in Miami, my father and I took a little trip to the west coast of Florida and I found a small octopus hiding in a conch shell – it was a very cool experience. As I scoured and climbed about, large waves periodically attacked me, dousing me with cool seawater.

The waves sneaking between the rocks

I found no octopuses, but did pry a little sea snail from a smooth underwater rock. Here I am, crouching in the rocks, inspecting the little marine gastropod:

Crouching in the tide pools

Thankfully, this snail was a bold little bugger and he came out of his shell, waving his feelers about – or are they eyestalks? I know land snails and some sea snails have eyestalks, although with this particular snail the shorter appendages on the sides of his “face” look more like functioning eyes – many someone who knows can share his/her knowledge in the comments below.

Interesting little sea snail

After a little photoshoot with the compliant snail, I replaced him – giving him a great home where he would not be stepped on – and we left the rocks. We explored the ruins, as photographically displayed above, and got back in the car for the next trip location – Arak Masada, a small arak factory in the Christian village of Mi’ilya, just minutes away from my house. That post is next, stay tuned.

A special thanks to Avi Kessner for a little CS5 touch-up.