Jordan River Valley

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Dead Sea Night Birding

In Dead Sea, Israel, Jordan River Valley on August 7, 2025 at 11:36 AM

Despite my increasingly busy life, I still consider birding to be one of my primary hobbies, albeit woefully neglected at times. In Israel, summer is regarded as the doldrums for birding, sandwiched between spring and autumn migration and lacking the wholesome verdancy of the wet winter season. However, that doesn’t mean that the land is wholly devoid of birds, one just needs to know where to look.

Grateful to be out exploring again (photo Adam Ota)

I saw that the Israel Birding Club had advertised an early June night birding tour to the Judean Desert around the Dead Sea, which is a known hotspot for some very special species of wildlife. One of the presumed target species is the Egyptian nightjar, one of three nightjar species that can be readily found in Israel. I had seen the most widespread species, the European nightjar both in Jerusalem and in Givat Shmuel, but the other two species remained elusive. This is not for want of trying, I had taken a stab at looking for Egyptian nightjars (and more) during the Eilat trip that Adam and I took back in 2019. That said, finding nightjars out in the open in the dark can be a bit difficult, so some professional guidance was certainly welcome.

Transitioning into the desert (photo Adam Ota)

Reaching out to Adam once again, we settled our plans and headed out in the late afternoon with a few stops in mind. We cut through the Shomron on Road 5, which later turns into 505, and began our descent into the desert. Thankfully, there was a roadside lookout which gave us the opportunity to take in the rural view, and the distinct mountaintop of Sartaba (Alexandrium). But with daylight counting down, we hurried back into the car and made our way down to Road 90 – Israel’s longest road which stretches from Metula until Eilat.

Delightful little green bee-eater (photo Adam Ota)

Our first real stop of the adventure was at an unassuming rest stop near Paza’el, where a hidden attraction can be found. Just south of the gas station, there is an old, abandoned complex surrounded by a fence – which happens to be breached in more than one place. This was a large crocodile farm, founded in the late 1980s as a tourist attraction, was closed during the First Intifada and then intended to be used to produce lucrative crocodile skin. Once laws were passed in 2013 banning the production of leather from such a designated protected species, the owner gave up and abandoned the project due to lack of funds. So now, twelve years later, hundreds of Nile crocodiles lurk in and around a small pond inside the complex, waiting for nothing but time itself.

Reptilian friends at the abandoned crocodile farm

Now just as an anecdotal sidenote, whilst drafting this blog post on my commute, I paused writing one morning with the previous sentence – and I had considered writing it a little differently, ending with “waiting for nothing but death.” Little did I know, that on that very morning there was an operation spearheaded by various governmental bodies to get rid of this “issue” at hand – namely, the culling of all 262 remaining crocodiles. Apparently, after numerous ideas were floated over the years, this seemed to have been the last resort. I was understandably shocked, but relieved that, at the very least, I was able to see this site before its bitter end. It had been somewhere on my figurative to-visit list ever since I had seen aerial drone photographs shared on Facebook by a young lad named Yair Paz (I can’t seem to relocate the post, but some other enchanting aerial footage can be seen HERE).

Monstrous croc lurking in the waters (photo Adam Ota)

We entered through a breach in the fence, passing some excited youths along the dusty path, and began to survey our surroundings. I was amazed at the dense concentration of crocodiles slumped on the dirt banks of the small, murky pool. Conjuring up vivid terminology torn from the pages of the likes of HP Lovecraft, these cold-blooded reptiles certainly played the part of ancient foul beasts as they skulked motionless and ominously in the fetid waters, only their bewitching eyes tracking our moves. We took some pictures and marveled at the sights we were seeing – such an unexpectedly rewarding experience.

You will surely be missed

Headed back into the car, we drove south down the 90 until we reached Almog Junction, where the tour was meeting up. Daylight was fading fast as we introduced ourselves to the birding guide, Yotam Bashan, and received the briefing on where we were going and what we were anticipating to see. As expected, we started in search of Egyptian nightjars, driving out to some salty, dry watermelon fields outside of Kalya. I hadn’t thought much about it at the time, but a big concentration of caves up on the craggy cliffside to the west of the fields are heavily featured in my thesis research. Alas, I did not get any sufficient photos of the adjacent cliffs before we were plunged into nightfall.

Sunset at the fields of Kalya (photo Adam Ota)

Lights from the Jordanian side of the Dead Sea glittered over the placid waters as we began our hunt for nightjars. Several high-powered flashlights were employed to make our searches easier. It was explained that the best way to find the nightjars was by shining a bright light around, and looking out for glints in the darkness returning said light. Sure enough, it worked and before long there was a slight glint on the dirt road far up ahead, and it flew off before we got much closer.

Using a spotlight to find nightjars

Sometimes, the glints were generated from trash and debris, such as soda cans, but sometimes it was the real deal. We crept up on several nightjars, most of them taking flight before we had a chance to take any decent pictures. Since neither of us have proper DSLR/mirrorless cameras, we had an even bigger challenge. Interestingly enough, my best photograph of an Egyptian nightjar from that evening was of one doing a close flyby.

Egyptian nightjar flyby

Our guide had beckoned these curious feathered friends with vocal calls broadcast over a small, portable speaker. When a nightjar fluttered by to examine, we all rushed through our camera buttons and tried desperately to get some snazzy pics. Photographic evidence aside, it was quite a surreal experience standing out in the dark in a dusty field, eerie calls playing over and over, ghostly bird shapes swooping around us – sometimes surprisingly close.

Scrambling to get a shot of a flying nightjar

While the focus was clearly on the majestic nightjars, there were other creatures lurking out in the darkness. We spotted some stone curlews, mountain gazelles, a fox and perhaps a jackal too. When we had felt relatively satiated by our viewings, we walked as a group back to our cars and drove down a dark agricultural road to some nearby date palm plantations. Now, the focus shifted to something a little more familiar, the pallid scops owl. While this was to be my first sighting of this localised species, I had a number of fond memories of the bird’s relative, the Eurasian scops owl (THIS being my best picture to-date). Similar to the Egyptian nightjar, I had briefly searched for a pallid scops owl while down in Eilat and the Arava, as they can periodically be found sleeping in acacia trees.

Pallid scops owl tucked into a date palm

We entered the rows of hefty date palms, a rip-roaring game of lights and shadows happening all around us as our torches flickered about. The calls of the nightjar, still echoing in our ears, could be heard faintly off in the distance fields. Before long, after some tramping through fallen vegetation, Yotam spotted an owl. He directed us swiftly, guiding our hushed whispers towards an illuminated patch just below the arched fronds. Lo and behold, my very first pallid owl, its minuscule body tucked neatly in the tree’s rough undercarriage.

Photographing the pallid scops owl

The owl posed pleasantly enough, changing positions once or twice before we decided that it was time to move on. Another owl or two were spotted, sometimes just a brief pale flurry as it disappeared into the darkness. We learned more about the owl, its interesting nesting techniques and the research that had gone into Israel’s population in recent years. With that, we climbed back into our vehicles and continued through the agricultural area until we turned back onto the 90 and drove south. Our next destination was a collection of agricultural fields and greenhouses by the saltmarshes of the Dead Sea.

Time to find some Nubian nightjars

We parked offroad near Nachal Qumran and began preparing for the search for an even more elusive Caprimulgus species, the Nubian nightjar. This species is smaller and has a more ruddy complexion, with small white wings flashes that make it easy to distinguish from its more pale relative. But, before we had the chance to properly mobilise, air raid sirens went off in the distance, and on some of our mobile devices. An incoming missile was detected, sent by our staunch Houthi fans in Yemen, and so we took shelter the best we could. Crouched in anticipation, I suddenly saw some flashes of light high up in the sky to the southeast, undoubtedly shrapnel from the intercepted missile. A few minutes later, when the danger had passed, we resumed operations and gathered up around our guide.

Nubian nightjar resting on the gravel road

The search went exactly the same way as it had in the watermelon fields of Kalya, beams of lights strobing through the hot, dusty air. Thankfully, Nubian nightjars were available and we got plenty of sightings both on the ground and in the air, swooping as they hunted moths and other winged delicacies – as goatsuckers do. There was even one moment where one nightjar landed tantalisingly close to some of the tour members, but unfortunately for me, the angle and topography made photography a nightmare. Eventually, as we made our way back to the cars, a ranger from the Nature and Parks Authority came by to check out who we were. He said that he has been extra-vigilant lately with suspicious figures roaming around the Dead Sea shores, especially after some gun smugglers from Jordan were recently apprehended. With that, we buckled ourselves up and began the long drive back to our respective homes, pleased with the successes of our valiant efforts – and for me, three new “lifers” to add to my life list.

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University Trip: Doq & the Good Samaritan Museum

In Israel, Jordan River Valley, Judea on January 26, 2022 at 10:20 AM

Riding on the coattails of my excursion to some fascinating sites around Nachal Tirza, I embarked on another trip with my university department at the very end of December. This was to be the first of three sequential field trips to the Judean Desert with Dr Dvir Raviv, each of the days dealing in turn with the northern, central and southern regions of the desert.

Looking out over Tariq Abu George

Being as this was the first day, our first destination was a small hillock overlooking Tariq Abu George, an important road that was paved by the Jordanians on the remains of an old Roman road. It was named after British army officer Edwin G. Bryant, previous superintendent of the Akko prison, who was nicknamed “Abu George” by his Arab admirers.

Golden eagle being mobbed by a common raven

The reason we were visiting this hillock was to take note of the geographical divide between the southern end of Samaria, and the subsequent start of the Judean Desert. While we surveyed our arid surroundings, I made note of some bird activity around me. First, I spotted a pair of buzzards far off over a ridge to the west, and then a small flock of alpine swifts. Next, much to my surprise, I noticed two somewhat rare golden eagles being mobbed by a few gregarious northern ravens. I had only ever seen golden eagles twice before – and both of those had also been on field trips with Dr Raviv (HERE and HERE)!

Hiking in the direction of Doq

Hiking back down the hill to our bus, we then headed for our first real destination of the day, the Hasmonean fortress of Doq. However, getting there was no small challenge, and our bus took a meandering route that led us through a Magav (Israel’s gendarmerie) training base and subsequent firing zones. As we drove I looked out the windows and noticed quite a nice amount of great grey shrikes, black redstarts and other birds. At last, our bus reached the vicinity of Doq and we all got out for a nice hike.

Under the watchful gaze of the Arabian green bee-eater

Overlooking the ancient city of Jericho, Doq was built during the Hasmonean period, and served as a fortress commanding the region. According to the Book of Maccabees, it was built by Ptolemy son of Abubus, the local governor appointed by Antiochus VII Euergetes, ruler of the Seleucid Empire some thirty years after the story of Hannukah. While the land was still in conflict between the different regional players, Doq was depicted as being the site of treachery against the Hasmoneans during a power struggle over Jerusalem.

Making our way to Doq

Our visit to Doq (also referred to as Dagon by Josephus) began alongside the dry Wadi el-Mefjer, where an Umayyad-built dam once stood to keep the seasonal flooding from destroying the crops down in the vicinity of Jericho. We hiked up and down the rocky slopes of the Qarantal ridge as we approached the first lookout, where we were able to survey our surroundings.

Approaching Doq from the southwest

From the lookout we pressed onward, climbing the zigzagging path that leads to Doq. Along the way we could see the restored Qarantal Monastery, also known as the Monastery of the Temptation, which was built on the cliffside overlooking Jericho. The monastery was initially built during the Byzantine period, when monasticism swept through the arid regions of the Holy Land, and then rebuilt in 1895 by the Greek Orthodox Church.

The more recent ruins atop Doq

At last we reached the peak and we entered the ruins of Doq via a small, yet enchanting doorway that provided a break in the long western wall. However, these ruins were not of the original Doq, but rather also part of a revival attempt by the Greek Orthodox Church in the late 1800s.

Corinthian capstone from the original Doq

Within, we saw that there was a large rectangular area, marked by a cross-shaped collection of low walls, and a series of arched rooms along the southern wall. We climbed to the roof of the rooms and took in the magnificent view that spread out before us of Jericho and the Qarantal beside us.

Dr Dvir Raviv backdropped by ancient Jericho

Dr Dvir Raviv backdropped by ancient Tel Jericho

Dr Raviv then gave us an geological survey of the surrounding area, and pointed out the various archaeological landmarks in the city, including the original Tel Jericho, the Shalom Al Yisrael Synagogue, the Herodian hippodrome, an Early Islamic sugar mill and other sites.

The large cave complex of the Qarantal

Turning to the Qarantal ridge, he then pointed out a series of caves marking the craggy cliffside. These were the Caves of the Spies, where it is believed the Israelite spies of the biblical story of Jericho had fled to, as well as other caves that were used in antiquity.

Inside the vaulted rooms

Wandering off to explore the vaulted rooms below us, I found something that intrigued me greatly. Upon the stone walls were written the names of past visitors, many of which were either in Arabic or in plain English. Some of the English graffiti was clearly signed by British soldiers who were likely stationed in the country. One particularly legible scrawl was by one Ernie J Brice, noting his time in Mandate Palestine from 1938 until unknown.

Graffiti left inside Doq’s lonely rooms

I happened to search this name and found that apparently he was the transmitter operator at the British consulate when Israel was established. His name came up in a 1948 Palestine Post write-up about Israel’s first espionage case, the fledgling government against a British citizen named Frederick William Sylvester who was spying for Israel’s enemies (see more HERE and HERE).

Hiking down to examine the water system

We then explored the remains of the to-be Greek Orthodox Church which incorporated what it believed to be a key shape in the construction, with scattered regal column capitals that bear testament to the grandeur that once was two thousand years ago. From there we left the confines of the wall and began to explore the ancient water system that joined a hewn channel with numerous cisterns.

Walking along the water channel on the eastern slope

Clinging to the craggy cliffside, we walked down the channel and examined the hard work that it took to create such an intricate system in such an arid place – only discovered in 1972. That, and the increasingly breathtaking views of Jericho spread out before us, with the aforementioned Qarantal Monastery just below.

Peering inside one of the system’s cisterns

Hiking the way back was via the same channel, continuing along the northern slope until we reached the adjacent ridge where a practically indiscernible small fort crowned the peak. We stopped there to catch our breaths, looking back at Doq and the areas we had just hiked. Refreshed, we then hiked back to the bus to be shuttled to our next destination of the day.

Hiking up to the small fort

Arriving at a place that I have had my eyes on for years, I was eager to get out and explore. We were at the Good Samaritan Museum, a mosaic museum housed on the ruins of a 2,000-year old wayfarers station, and later as a Byzantine-era inn from where its name originates. I had seen the museum site back in early 2018 when I had visited Castellum Rouge, a Crusader fortress built just across Road 1, and now was its time to shine.

The Good Samaritan Museum

Immediately inside the site’s gates we saw the showcased underground dwelling cave that dates back to the Second Temple period as well as a grand mosaic from the ancient synagogue at Gaza featuring a fine collection of artistic fauna. Many, if not all of the mosaics on display at the museum are those found in archaeological sites that wouldn’t otherwise be able to support the conservation on-site. Thus, when need be, the Israel Antiquities Authority systematically transplants and preserves these fragile works of art to be displayed for all.

The outdoor exhibits of the museum

It’d take a long time to list all of the magnificent mosaics that I saw that day, but there are some that stand out for several reasons. The mosaic that excited me most was the one found at Khirbet el-Lattatin, an interesting site just a kilometre or so away from my parents-in-law’s home in Givat Ze’ev. But there were those that impressed with their sheer beauty, such as the mosaics of the church narthex and the Roman fortress at Deir Qal’a, both stunning in their geometric patterns.

The Roman fortress floor from Deir Qal’a

These were all part of the outdoor exhibits, where mosaics are incorporated among the ruins of structures from the Second Temple and Byzantine periods, as well as a water cistern from the Crusader period. I enjoyed seeing capitals from Nabi Samuel, as well as hewn sarcophagi from Shechem (Nablus), but I was also eager to see inside the museum’s central building, originally built during the Ottoman period to serve as a police station guarding the treacherous road outside.

Capitals from Nabi Samuel on display

Entering, and rejoicing in the respite from the cold winds outside, I quickly became overwhelmed at the sheer quantity of mosaics on display. The six consecutive rooms, each full of mosaics and other accompanying artefacts, was almost too much to be properly enjoyed in one brief visit. Some did stand out, especially the inscription mosaic from the aforementioned Shalom Al Yisrael Synagogue in Jericho.

The eponymous mosaic from the Shalom Al Yisrael synagogue of Jericho

During the Byzantine period, when mosaic floors became an integral component to religious structures, the art was used by all faiths. I became impressed with the quantity and quality of the Samaritan mosaics, hailing from sites such as Mount Gerizim, El-Khirbe and Sha’alavim. However, it was the Samaritan synagogue at Khirbet Samara that took the proverbial cake, the mosaic remains showcased in a large glass-walled room.

Within the room dedicated to Khirbet Samara

I looked around until it was time to get back on the bus for one last stop. The sun was slowly sinking, and Dr Raviv had one last place he wanted us to see before bringing this first field day to an end. Thankfully, it was not far and before we knew it, we were back outside again and climbing up a short hill to an excellent observation point looking out over Wadi Qelt and the Monastery of St George.

Ending our day at the Monastery of St George lookout

Evening was setting over the picturesque desert, marked by a flock of alpine swifts calling overhead as they welcomed the dusk. Plus, to boost our high spirits even more, a tiny birthday celebration for one of the students was held. The enchanting calls of Tristram’s starlings echoing in the wadi was our last audible memory of the day, accompanying us as we scurried back to our bus for the long ride back home.

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University Trip: Sites around Nachal Tirza

In Israel, Jordan River Valley on January 16, 2022 at 10:15 AM

It has been difficult not going on any field trips offered by my Land of Israel Studies and Archaeology department in the past year and a half or so. The last one I had attended was to Tel Arad and Tel Be’er Sheva with Prof Aren Maeir, and the time had come to once again embark on a group tour of some exciting places that I wouldn’t ordinarily be visiting on my own. This time, towards the end of December, I set out on a trip to four archaeological sites in the Nachal Tirza area with Prof Shawn Zelig Aster and Dr Dvir Raviv, the latter being one of my thesis advisors.

The region of our adventure

With our target destination being located in the Jordan River Valley area of the country, it was quite a drive to get there coming from Bar Ilan University. Although, on the way, we passed el-Jenab Cave, which I happen to be researching for my thesis and thus pleased me deeply. That, and the breathtaking views of the mountains and wadis on the eastern side of the watershed made the trip already exciting. Before we arrived at our first stop, we had a quick break at a rest stop near Pazael, where I found hundreds of black kites still resting before taking to the skies.

Roosting black kites

When we were back in the bus and headed for our first site – Khirbet el-Makhruk – we drove past staggering numbers of both black kites and starlings flying in the vicinity of local garbage dumps. I’d estimate that there were tens of thousands of each, and an additional couple hundred white storks to complete the spellbinding picture. However, this trip was about geography and archaeology and so the bus let us out near Adam Junction and we began the short hike to Khirbet el-Makhruk.

Atop the eastern fortress at Khirbet el-Makhruk

Since we had just experienced a week-long storm, even the arid Jordan River Valley region had received rainfall which was the catalyst for a very exciting event in the circle of life. After the rains, termites come out of their underground complexes and those with wings take to the skies. We swatted the drone-like termites as they flew past, one of them finding its way into my shirt, but then we noticed something incredible. When we had reached the eastern fortress of the ancient site, we saw Israeli gold scorpions running about in broad daylight, nabbing the confused termites and quite literally eating them on the go. Unfortunately, I don’t have the proper macro equipment to capture this moment the way it needs to be, but to witness it was astounding.

An Israeli gold scorpion running off with a termite

Khirbet el-Makhruk is a complex of small fortresses dating to the Iron Age, or when the Israelites were active, built atop the ruins of an Early Bronze Age city. Not much remains of the ruins, but back then the site was vitally important in its task of keeping the settled hinterland safe. While looking around the eastern hilltop, I found evidence of recent artefact looting, as well as a freshly broken rim of what appears to be an Iron Age jug.

Exploring the circular tower

We continued up to the small circular tower which effectively guarded the southern side of the complex. There, in the jumbled ruins, I found a painted sherd that either dates to the Late Bronze Age or the Mamluk period, depending on who you ask.

Late Bronze Age or Mamluk painted pottery

From there we continued on to the northern fortress which was most recently ravaged by IDF fortification trenches, although Ottoman bunkers dating to WWI can also be found in the vicinity. Here we found a recently exposed mud brick wall, beautifully intact and utterly raw evidence of the construction efforts that went into this key site.

Freshly exposed ancient mud brick wall

We documented it fully, and began the hike back down to the waiting tour bus. Along the way, I had some pleasing birding moments, including some beautiful green bee-eaters, a flushed sand partridge and my very first Namaqua doves.

My very first Namaqua doves

Our bus driver deposited us next outside a date plantation just south of Argaman, where we hiked along the wadi to our next site of interest, Bedhat esh-Sha’ab. Also referred to as Gilgal, this is a unique site attributed to ceremonial usage during the Iron Age. The late archaeologist Adam Zertal suggested that Bedhat esh-Sha’ab was one of the first places the Israelites camped upon crossing into the Holy Land. The other possible candidates also share a distinct footprint-shaped outline, which may connect to biblical terminology concerning conquest.

Bedhat esh-Sha’ab or Gilgal

At any rate, this site is located at the foot of a stepped slope which served as an amphitheatre of sorts during our visit there. Nummulite fossils can be found on these rocks, and sure enough we found some as we searched about. Indeed, I had even quite accidentally photographed a nice grouping of the orange, coin-shaped fossils when taking a picture of a nearby blackstart.

A blackstart perched on a nummulite-dotted rock

In more recent years, there were efforts to make Bedhat esh-Sha’ab/Gilgal a proper tourist attraction, and a gigantic megalithic tower was erected. While there’s really not much to see inside the beast, we did notice some local lads climbing up to the top to enjoy the lofty views.

The behemoth of a tourist attraction

We hiked back to the bus and were shuttled over to the next site on our itinerary, the Roman hilltop fortress known now as Horvat Heraf. Located just north of Argaman, a mere two and a half kilometres from Bedhat esh-Sha’ab, this was a permanent military camp for the Roman army in the Jordan River Valley region. Interestingly enough, this quite noticeable site wasn’t documented by early archaeologists, nor by the British surveyors. It was discovered in 1968, during an emergency survey after the Six Day War, and was, only then, properly analysed and named.

Making our way up to the Roman army camp fortress

A fortress of large proportions, the inner section measures a whopping 3,400 square metres, with an additional “lean-to” constructed on the southern side. Three entrances are built into the roomed walls, and a praetorium (officer’s headquarters) in the very centre – see an aerial image of the camp HERE. We were quite understandably impressed by this visibly authentic site, and set about looking for interesting ceramic fragments and maybe even ancient Roman coins (of which we found none).

The ruined praetorium in the centre of the complex

What made this extra titillating for me was the fact that this fortified camp was constructed during the reign of Emperor Hadrian, in connection with the Bar Kokhba Revolt (132–136 CE). The evening before, friends Adam and Vered, Bracha and I watched Thermae Romae, a quirky Japanese movie about a Roman architect trying to improve upon the existing Roman bathhouses under the behest of none other than the very same Hadrian. It’s interesting to compare narratives of such a famous, or infamous, historical figure.

Beautiful shades of topography

After a light drizzle, we headed back down the mountain and back into our awaiting bus to be taken to the final site for the day. This one was located a bit further upstream, and should be referred to as Khirbet Merah al-‘Enab (Hums a-Tahta), following the advice of Prof Aster. This site is the ruins of an Israelite fortress which helped defend the natural topographical roads that led into the heart of Samaria.

Part of the Israelite fortress at Khirbet Merah al-‘Enab

We arrived on location to see that the site is the literal backyard of a local Arab family, whose patriarch watched us keenly as we enjoyed their hospitality. Our lecturers gave a brief rundown of the site and its importance to the region, and when we left, Prof Aster had a quick conversation with our host in Arabic and it turns out that the both remembered each other from a previous occasion some years back – always charming. With that we made one final hike back to our bus, and off we went back in the direction of Bar Ilan University, bringing yet another field trip to a successful end.

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University Trip: Wadi Dalia & Sartaba

In Israel, Jordan River Valley on February 26, 2019 at 9:01 AM

Following our trip to Nachal Rash’ash, the members of Dr Dvir Raviv’s field class on the geography, geology and archaeology of the Shomron reconvened for a second day in the field. This time we had two destinations: Wadi Dalia and the fortress-peaked mountain of Sartaba. Departing in the morning from Bar Ilan University, and picking up members along the way, our trip officially began at the western side of Kibbutz Gilgal in the Jordan River Valley.

Outside Kibbutz Gilgal

Immediately upon leaving the tour bus my eyes settled upon a curious pair of birds perched on a wire a dozen or so metres away: green bee-eaters. With the birding aspect of the trip starting off on such a high, birding-friend Adam and I were quite eager to see what we could find. Just a quick scan around the perimetre, while the first of the hikers started off, we managed to see a handful of birds, including a black kite, some Tristram’s starlings and a small flock of Spanish sparrows.

Little green bee-eater

We set off heading southwest, towards the low mountains and in the direction of Wadi Dalia, enjoying the warm air of the valley. Within fifteen minutes we reached the dry streambed of Wadi Dalia and settled down for the first of many field-lectures delivered that day by our guide, Dr Dvir Raviv. Given the necessary background information on the geographical geology, including the changes in bedrock formations from the valley to the mountains as the elevation climbs.

Wadi Dalia

From the wadi we climbed up, reaching a small plateau where we could see diagonal stripes of flint in the otherwise plain sand-coloured limestone. One of the party members found a deathstalker scorpion, the most venomous variety in Israel, and rushed over to show me. Lately I’ve been seeing more and more deathstalkers, even more than the more common species.

Lecturing on lush greenery

We climbed higher, following the trail marked in red and white paint, and saw where the recent rains washed new life into the sand-coloured slopes. With the gentle sprinkling of green came the wildflowers and, throughout the day, we saw several different species, including yellow star-of-Bethlehem and dark grape hyacinth. Although unrelated, we saw more and more black kites until the estimated count reached into the hundreds.

A swirling of black kites

The view around us became increasingly glorious as we climbed, the jagged cliff edges and the green-dusted slopes combining to make a contrastingly beautiful scene. Before long we reached a small Bedouin enclosure, with a series of caves, and sat down to hear more about one particular cave with dozens of goats milling about around us. It was then, seated in the mostly-dry streambed, that we saw a very impressive sight.

Blissful clouds

As we were listening to Dvir a large shape appeared overhead, crossing over us from the cover of the nearby cliff. Everyone looked up, and multiple voices called out at me, including Adam who was watching it approach through his binoculars. I looked up as well, and saw a large bird of prey. A mere second or two passed before I turned my camera back on, removed the lens cap and began zooming in for a photograph. I knew that I’d only get one shot, and that it would be preferable to get clarity over closeness, so I shot at a mere 260mm (instead of the potential 2000mm) and got what I got. Behold, a majestic golden eagle:

Golden eagle flyby

Amazed with what we saw, Adam and I were on birding-high and decided that we’d be more alert as we walked this arid mountain terrain. Sure enough, a few common ravens passed by overhead, as well as some more ever-present black kites. An hour later, continuing along the trail, we found a small-spotted lizard hiding among the rocks.

Small-spotted lizard peeking out

Thus we continued, hiking and hiking some more as we traversed Wadi Dalia, making our way back downhill and towards the waiting bus. It was on that home stretch that we saw hundreds of black kites, swarming in large groups over the many slopes around us. Back in the bus, we were driven to a rest stop area for lunch, where Adam and I feasted on rolls, hummus and more, and then off to the final destination of the day: Sartaba, also known as Alexandrium.

The steep climb to Sartaba

I had once attempted to visit Sartaba, a Hasmonean fortress atop a conical peak, but got confused with the access roads and abandoned the notion. So, approaching the distinct mountain gave me a feeling of long-awaited excitement, as might be expected. But, we were not to just drive to Sartaba, there was a steep mountain path to climb, and the bus was going to drop us off at the foot of it, near an empty army outpost.

Looking back mid-climb

We disembarked at the base of the trail and were immediately shocked by how cold and windy it was. Dvir gave us a few words of encouragement, including something about not getting stuck atop the mountain after dark, and then we set off. It was a steep climb, of that we were roughly prepared, but it was the incessant howling cold wind that really threw us for a loop.

An ancient coin

About halfway up we reached a small cave near an ancient water reservoir which provided rudimentary shelter from the wind as the stragglers rejoined the group. From there we looped around the northern side of the slope near the peak and then climbed the last bit from the western side.

Standing atop the fortress ruins

Impressive ruins of a large fortress greeted us, the finely-cut ashlars stacked majestically. We spread about as we all explored the ruined fortress, looking around and taking photos. Just to summarise the fortress’ identity, Sartaba was originally built by the Hasmoneans and then restored by Herod approximately two hundred years later. The fortress was then destroyed during the Great Revolt by the Romans, and has been largely abandoned since.

Exploring Sartaba

With the sun setting over the nearby mountains we gathered around Dvir to hear a short explanation on the site. We examined the work of the different archaeological excavations that had taken place over the years, and then over to the “Hearts Palace”, named such due to the number of heart-shaped columns.

Heart-shaped column

Hoping to get back to the bus before nightfall, we made our way back down the slope, which proved quite difficult at first. The strong winds, coupled with the incline’s loose gravel, made the first few paces quite challenging. Eventually we reached the regular trail and made our way down the slope at a brisk pace.

Slip-sliding our way back down

Before long we were back in our tour bus and driving back to Bar Ilan University, bringing an end to a very interesting field trip.

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Belvoir

In Galilee, Israel, Jordan River Valley on November 15, 2015 at 5:39 AM

Finishing off my day trip to the Gilboa and Bet Shean regions was a stopover at Israel’s best-preserved Crusader castle, Belvoir (or Kochav HaYarden, in Hebrew). Located just ten kilometres north of ancient Bet Shean, this Crusader fortress stood on an escarpment overlooking the Jordan River Valley – a seemingly impenetrable bastion. From Road 90, running parallel to the Jordan River, I drove up the single-lane access road that meandered its merry way up the mountainside.

Aerial view of Belvoir looking westward (photo: Biblewalks)

I entered the park and began what I thought would be a circular path to the castle, but I soon reached a closed gate with a view of the low mountains to the north and the seasonal Tavor stream. Turning around, I walked the short direct trail to the bluff’s edge passing a sculpture garden featuring the work of Yigal Tumarkin. The name Belvoir means “beautiful view” in French and they were’t lying when they named the castle – the view is phenomenal.

Lookout over the Jordan River Valley

The suggested path for visitors starts at the main gate at the southeastern corner of the castle, leading past the once-heavily fortified barbican (now mostly in ruin). From there the route leads into the outer courtyard passing the corner towers and the cistern where water was stored, being as such there was no spring in the immediate vicinity. One thing that’s particularly beautiful about Belvoir is the symmetry used to build a succession of fortified structures, culminating in the small keep at the western end.

A drawing of what Belvoir might have looked like

The history of Belvoir is rather brief beginning in 1140 as a fortified farmhouse owned by the Velos family and sold to the Knights Hospitallers in 1168 who, in turn, built the castle as we know it. In 1182-83 Belvoir was besieged by the Ayyubid sultan Saladin, the bane of the Crusaders, although the siege was a failure. Not intending to give up, Saladin returned with his army in 1187 after defeating the Crusader at the Horns of Hattin and laid siege once again. After two years the sultan’s sappers succeeded in undermining the barbican and the Hospitaller knights negotiated a truce in which they were afforded safe passage to Tyre, in modern day Lebanon. Frightened that the Crusaders would somehow return to occupy Belvoir, Saladin had it partially destroyed. The sultan’s fears were justifiable as the Crusaders did return in 1241 and, upon seeing the ruins, abandoned the castle, leaving it definitely.

Entrance to the keep

Walking into the inner fortress, I passed through the arched gateways of the keep (also known as a donjon in French). Inside the inner fortress I found the kitchens, dining hall and refectory as well as other smaller courtyards, accented by the four corner towers. The trio of ovens are of a very interesting design and I can almost recreate a scene in my mind where the bland European foods of wild boar and coarse bread were cooked up for the great feast in the nearby dining hall.

Barrel-vaulted dining hall

The special laundry basin, also located in the inner fortress, has an interesting lining of broken pottery bits, reminding me of the clay piping in Montfort Castle, the Teutonic Knights’ mountaintop headquarters. Outside the keep is the west gate where a drawbridge once stood, spanning the deep dry moat that was carved out of the basalt mountaintop. Interestingly enough, the castle’s construction was completed with both the local black basalt and a yellow-white limestone that was brought in – in fact there is a carved stone from an ancient synagogue that was recycled in an arched window. Before crossing the drawbridge, I followed the suggested route down a sally port (secret exit) in the southwest corner tower.

Sally port

Down in the moat I was able to look up and imagine myself as an invader attempting entry into a seemingly impenetrable behemoth of stacked ashlars.

From within the dry moat

I reentered the castle via another sally port located in the central western tower. Crossing over the fixed metal drawbridge, I spotted two chukars (a type of partridge) on the far end of the moat and then headed for a small visitors’ centre of sorts where several curiosities are on display. While researching Belvoir online I came across something magnificent, a Lego reconstruction of the castle created by the lauded Lego castle builder Bob Carney. If you haven’t seen his work, you should definitely check out his site where he has nearly 150 real castles built out of Lego and properly documented (I linked the full Belvoir page in the photo caption below). You can see a stop motion video of Bob’s recreation of the medieval Rhuddlan Castle in Wales on YouTube (HERE).

Lego reconstruction of Belvoir (photo Bob Carney)

Wrapping up my visit to Belvoir, I drove back down the meandering mountain road, scouring the roadside for gazelles and hyenas (of which I saw neither), until I reached Road 90 once again. I turned north and stopped off at Old Gesher (Naharayim) where I first found an old British police station (yet another Tegart fort) which has since been pockmarked by bullets from a battle between Israeli and Iraqi forces in 1948.

Old Gesher police station

I drove closer to the Jordan River but it was soon apparent that the site was already closed for the day and I would simply have to return another time. Heading back to Road 90 I continued north to my final stop before heading home, Tel Bet Yerach – a remarkable archaeological site which I neglected to mention when covering Jethro’s Cairn, as they both concern the same pagan deity. The tel is located on the southwestern banks of the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee), right at the southern mouth of the Jordan River. Unfortunately I was not completely sure where this site was so I estimated in planning and eventually realised that I was located on a plateau somewhere above it with no easy way down.

View of the Kinneret from above Tel Beit Yerach

So I relented and just took the time to enjoy the view as the sun slowly began to set over my shoulder, content with seeing all that I had succeeded in seeing, but ever eager to explore some more.

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Bet Shean

In Galilee, Israel, Jordan River Valley on November 8, 2015 at 7:36 AM

Continuing on with my trip that covered thus far the Gilboa Hot Air Balloon Festival and Beit Shturman and Beit Alpha, I left the base of Mount Gilboa and drove into the city of Bet Shean. I was headed for the national park which holds the ruins of ancient Bet Shean (or Scythopolis, as it was known in Roman times). Entering the park, I was absolutely overwhelmed by the magnitude of the ruins uncovered and on display- how have I taken so long to visit? Having to consult the visitor guide’s map to decipher the endless rows of broken structures, I began with the iconic Roman theatre.

Roman theatre

Built to seat some 7,000 spectators, the half circle rows of limestone benches face the stage which, during Roman times, was backed by a twenty metre-high scaenae frons, an elaborately decorated background which usually rose to the height of the ceiling. In the case of this particular ruin, the scaenae frons was mostly destroyed, as well as the upper rows of seats, so renovations are taking place to recreate the theatre to its original glory.

Recreated scaenae frons

Leaving the theatre, I next explored the vast bathhouse which covers some 9,000 square metres of prime real estate. As in most large Roman cities, the bathhouse was a central public building where citizens would come to exercise, bathe and socialise. One thing that I noticed was the intricate mosaic work even in the large rooms, where simple floor tiles would have been easier. Another thing was the revolutionary hypocaust, an underfloor heating method which warmed the floor and the room itself. I had seen the same construction in a small Byzantine bathhouse outside the mountaintop ruins of Avdat in the Negev, and here the technology was explained in full.

Beneath the bathhouse’s floor

Leaving the bathhouse complex I began my walk down Palladius Street, a colonnaded road of large white columns dividing the bathhouse and “sigma” from the Byzantine agora. I paused to take a look at the sigma, a semicircular concourse lined with small mosaic-floored rooms – including one with a medallion of Tyche, the city’s guardian goddess.

Palladius Street with the tel behind it

Crossing the street, I looked at the agora which is relatively unadorned, having served as a commercial centre during those times. Continuing along the main road, I reached the junction between the Northern Street and the continuation of the city’s nucleus to the east. It seems as though the excavators and renovators have given up on the Northern Street, as it is absolutely littered with ancient rubble, including large building chunks and broken pillars. So I focused my attention on identifying the numerous structures before me, including the Roman Temple and Nymphaeum, an ornate public fountain.

Roman city of Bet Shean (Scythopolis)

It was about now, standing amid a chaotic collection of crumbled construction, that I realised I had made a grievous error not bringing any water along. The midday summer sun that permeates the valley was starting to dry me out. I wrapped my button-down shirt around my head and shoulders and forced myself to continue onwards. I walked along the Valley Street which leads to the northern end of the city, but I was headed not north, but up. Standing at the base of the tel (archaeological mound), I began my conquest of the harsh yellow hill. The stairs going up were tough indeed, but at the very top was a view that really captured the magnificence of the city sprawl down below.

Looking down on the ruins

However, it was only the Romans who occupied the ruined area, previous civilisations inhabited the summit of the hill, with their subsequent constructions one atop the other – a stratum of ancient foundations. Nearly as prolific as the glorious tel of Megiddo, some twenty layers have been uncovered at Bet Shean, including those of Jewish rule. It was at a lookout with an audio guide that I found a stout water fountain – the fountain of life for my parched lips. Drinking desperately from the weak flow of warm water, I listened to the tender voice informing me of the place I was kneeling upon, and the surrounding view. Following the trail, I saw a good number of ancient walls from Canaanite and Egyptian occupation, including the Egyptian governor Ramses-Weser-Khepesh’s palace with an uncovered stone lintel depicting him kneeling before his master, Pharaoh Ramses III, in hieroglyphics. If that’s not interesting, I don’t know what is.

The Egyptian governor’s palace

Perhaps of greater interest is the Biblical story of King Shaul, when he and his sons were killed in battle with the Philistines at nearby Mount Gilboa, and were brought to Bet Shean to dangle from the city walls as trophies. On a lighter note, to the north of the tel is Nachal Harod and the churning water can be both seen and heard way down below. A ruined Roman bridge is also visible, as well as the ruins of several Byzantine churches on the opposing hillside.

Nachal Harod with the Roman bridge and Jordan beyond

Passing the numerous excavated temples, fortresses and various buildings, I came to a lone skeleton of a tree, supported by rusted metal against the stark stone ground. It reminded me of a particularly absurd play/film called Waiting for Godot, which I was made to watch in high school.

Ruins of thousands of years upon the tel

Trotting back down the hill, I swung eastward, walking down Silvanus Street which is similarly colonnaded. When the street ended and a dirt path began, I passed another bathhouse and then public lavatories that serviced the theatre and bathhouse visitors. Just beyond that I found a cultic compound with an assortments of altars and similar structures amid a temple. I then re-entered the magnificent theatre where I began my tour of the ancient city and made my way back up to the visitor centre to watch a short film about the city in general in the comfort of shade and strong air-conditioning. Without too much time to lose, I decided to skip the Roman amphitheatre (oval as opposed to the mostly circular theatre) and the nearby Crusader/Ottoman fortress and other Ottoman buildings, uncharacteristic as that may be.

Basalt Ottoman building

I had stumbled upon the fortress two years ago while driving through the city with my army truck and didn’t see anything of extreme interest. Plus, time was not on my side and I still had a few more places I wanted to visit including the Crusader castle of Belvoir just a few kilometres northward.

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Gilboa Hot Air Balloon Festival

In Galilee, Israel, Jordan River Valley on October 18, 2015 at 4:23 AM

Harkening back to Chol HaMoed of Sukkot, this blog post retells my trip to the Gilboa and Bet Shean regions. I left the house at a peppy 4:45am and drove down the dark mountain roads, through Druze villages and eventually out into the Harod valley. I drove up Mount Gilboa from the west and reached an outcropping known as Mount Shaul where I found an assortment of parked cars – apparently I wasn’t the only one with this idea.

Sunrise on Mount Gilboa

What I had come to do so early in the morning was to watch the dawn launch of the International Balloon Festival which is held in two very different locations every year – the Gilboa area and the Negev. I walked through the pine tree forest on Mount Shaul, passing small plaques with biblical verses commemorating the fateful battle between King Shaul and the Philistines, which culminated in Shaul’s suicide as well as the death of three of his sons. At the eastern side of the ridge, I watched the beautiful sunrise over the valley and Jordan beyond, as can be seen in the above photo.

The crowds are waiting

Following a path, I then walked westward until I reached the lookout where the crowds were already staking claims for the best view of the balloon launch. Far below, nearly out of sight due to the trees, the international group of aeronauts were filling up their hollow crafts with good hot air.

Gilboa Hot Air Balloon Festival

The first to take flight was a blue balloon of standard shape, but the next made the spectating children glee with adoration – a frog with a golden crown on its head rose into the clear morning sky.

Whimsical frog king balloon

Several others, both traditional and whimsical, soon took flight, including a white human head, an ice cream cone and a baby chick emerging from its shell. Interestingly enough, the rock I chose as my vantage point was right next to a man stretched out on a blanket playing with his children, and this man turned out to be a reservist officer I had worked with in the army – small world! I stayed for a bit longer watching the different balloons rise and fall and then decided it was time to move on to my next location. As I drove back down woodsy Mount Gilboa, I spotted the balloons from a southern angle, but the pictures didn’t come out nearly as scenic. At the bottom of the mountain I turned westward, heading for a site I’ve been meaning to visit ever since my army years – Tel Yizrael.

The balloons from Tel Yizrael

Located at the eastern end of the Jezreel Valley (the same name Latinised), the tel was once a major Jewish city and over the years saw the standard lineup of Holy Land invaders including the Assyrians, Romans, Byzantines, Crusaders and Ottomans. Due to the tall dry grass and the self-imposed time constraints, I only explored the eastern, northern and western sides of the tel, which is unfortunate because most of the excavations were done on the southern side. But I did see a handful of building remains and ancient water cisterns, as well as this khan from the Ottoman period.

Ottoman khan on Tel Yizrael

Leaving Tel Yizrael I headed to the next site on my list: Beit Shturman in the nearby Kibbutz Ein Harod.

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In Israel, Jordan River Valley, Judea on October 21, 2014 at 6:44 AM

This past Sunday, my father and I drove down to Bet Shemesh and Ashdod for shipping-related work, hoping to have a little fun as well. Leaving early in the morning in the rain, we chose the desert route – border-hugging Road 90 from Tzfat down to Jericho and then Road 1 through Jerusalem. Stopping momentarily in Bet Shean we had a large flock of pelicans pass overhead; the bird migrations in full force this time of year.

Looking down towards the Jordan River Valley

Our first stop was intended to be the mountaintop fortress of Sartaba (Alexandion) just before Road 505’s junction and after a wrong turn into a town, we were directed to a single-lane road that took us winding up the adjacent mountain. There, after parking, we found a desolate army outpost and a trail leading out to a rocky horn that I assumed was Sartaba.

Rocky horn – not Sartaba

Up on the horn, gazing out at the Jordan River Valley, I activated my phone’s GPS and discovered that the actual site was a few kilometres west from where we were standing. As you can see here, the dirt road snaking up the mountainside leads to Sartaba, looking down from where we were beside the army outpost.

The winding road to Sartaba

As we looked out at the stormy clouds and the barren mountainous landscape, my father decided to see if he could roll a rock all the way down the mountainside. After the first rock crashed down into the dry streambed below, we saw small figures running away from the single-rock avalanche. I called out to my father to look at the birds running down there, assuming they were chukars or some desert quails, and then zoomed in on them with the camera. The 25x optical zoom was not enough and so I entered the iffy realm of digital zoom. I snapped and prayed, having a hard time seeing the colour-camoflauged creatures down below. Checking the display scene, I found myself looking at not birds, but gazelles:

Gazelles down below

Returning to the car, we attempted to drive to the real Sartaba but the road was too precarious and we do not have a 4×4. So, we returned to Road 90 and tried from a different access point. More rugged terrain suitable only for a 4×4. So, in summary, any attempt to reach Sartaba either requires a 4×4 vehicle or a very long hike up and around a mountain. Continuing down Road 90, we stopped next at a site known as Qasr al-Yahud (Arabic for “Castle of the Jews”) which is a spot along the Jordan River famous for several reasons. When the Jews crossed the Jordan River entering the Holy Land thousands of years back, as documented by the Bible, they crossed “opposite Jericho” and so tradition has it that this is the very spot where the waters stood in a pillar for the Jews to cross into the Land. Later, it is believed that this is where Eliyahu (Elijah) the Prophet ascended to the heavens after crossing the Jordan with Elisha.

Qasr al-Yahud – Israel and Jordan

But today’s tourists are mostly Christians who come to Qasr al-Yahud to baptise in the waters of the Jordan, a holy site harkening back to the dawn of Christianity. As far back as the Byzantine era, churches and monasteries were built along the banks, these being the lowest churches in elevation on Earth. These monasteries often served as safe havens for Christian pilgrims during times of Arab rule. The oldest monastery is St John’s which was rebuilt during the Crusader period on ruins from a Byzantine-era church. During Ottoman rule, when there was easy access for pilgrims, many Christian orders came and built their own monasteries. Earthquakes in 1927 and 1956 severely damaged the monasteries and after the Six Day War in 1967, the area became a closed military zone.

An abandoned Franciscan chapel

In the following decades, the monasteries became refuges for terrorists crossing the border and so the IDF was forced to set mines around the partially ruined buildings.

A minefield

Now, at times of peace with Jordan, the site is open to visitors but several of the monasteries are still minefields and fenced off. When we visited, there were two Israeli soldiers and one Jordanian soldier guarding the border – a mere thirty feet or so of muddy water, where several pilgrims were in the water in white tunics.

Jordanian corporal keeping watch on the border

After Qasr al-Yahud we kept driving until we reached the Beit HaArava Junction. There, we turned onto a small road to see the remnants of the original settlement of Beit HaArava (1939-48). At the end of the road we saw a few ruined houses, but they were on the other side of the security fence. We also saw a sign to the first potash plant which was in operations from 1925 till 1948. Getting back to the main road, we turned onto Road 1 to Jerusalem and took a two-minute detour to photograph Nabi Musa, the Muslim shrine and mosque for what they believe is the burial place of Moshe (Moses).

Nabi Musa

Pressed for time, we abandoned plans to visit the Kotel in Jerusalem and instead had a quick visit with family friends in nearby Ma’ale Adumim and then headed for Bet Shemesh to get the work done. When we left Bet Shemesh, heading for the port of Ashdod, this magnificent rainbow appeared in the sky:

Rainbow over Bet Shemesh

After dinner in Ashdod, we took the labourious drive home via Road 6 – Israel’s longest toll-road and arrived home sometime after 9pm.

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Israel's Good Name

Israel's Good Name

Archive for the ‘Jordan River Valley’ Category

Dead Sea Night Birding

University Trip: Doq & the Good Samaritan Museum

University Trip: Sites around Nachal Tirza

University Trip: Wadi Dalia & Sartaba

Belvoir

Bet Shean

Gilboa Hot Air Balloon Festival

Jordan River Valley

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