Sailing and Zipping – December 28 – 29, 2022

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Remember how I chatted up the lady at the bar the first day we arrived in Tamarindo? Judy, claiming ancient knees, hips and arm joints, got even by sliding down zip lines in the arms of 30- and 40-something attendants who were more than willing to assist her in her time of need. It all ended on a happy note when they started calling Judy their Mama, and indeed one guy was a year older than her own son Jeff.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I sat too near the sangria pitcher last night and last night we didn’t get back from dinner in town before 9 PM so all I could do was sort through the 400-odd pictures from the last two days before falling asleep.

Day before yesterday, which seems a long time ago, was Sunset Sailing and Snorkeling Day, as it turned out. Griffin wanted to go fishing but we couldn’t find a kid-friendly fishing expedition, so we settled on an afternoon trip on a 66-foot catamaran along with 60-ish other tourists. The trip turned out to be a lot of fun and even Griffin approved.  The fellow sailors were a friendly lot and the bar was open. (“Even though we offer an open bar, this is not a booze cruise,” the web site cautioned.)

The trip didn’t leave until 1:30 PM so I cooked up a batch of crepes (cheese and Nutella versions) and we lazed around the pool until it was time to load up the carts and head off.

We set sail from the Ocho beach, right at the foot of the hill that leads to our house. We had to board tender boats in the crashing surf to reach the catamaran moored maybe a quarter mile offshore. We did so without incident, Nana’s bum hip notwithstanding. We sailed for a bit over an hour with all sails set and the ship’s twin screws doing most of the propulsion duty – the sails were just to make us feel like we were sailing.

Upon reaching a somewhat protected cove the crew lowered the anchor and dispensed mask, snorkels and fins for all who wanted them. All eight of us did and we set off to explore. Frankly there wasn’t much to see until we reached submerged rocks a few hundred meters away where fish could be seen. The sunfish population at the Onawa dock has a more colorful and plentiful display if you don’t mind them nibbling at your toes all the time. But everyone had fun experimenting with the gear and enjoying the water, which is very comfortable – refreshing but not too cold.

Then back on board for a barbequed chicken (good), refried beans (good) and rice (dry and bland). We ate like we’d never be fed again, even though Claudia was on tap to feed us dinner four hours later. But hey, we’re on vacation, so eat, drink and eat some more, right?

We arrived back at Ocho beach in time for sunset as advertised. By the time we were ashore it was dark, and we had to find the light switch on the golf carts to make it back up the hill to home.

Here are pictures from our sailing adventure, but keep reading after for the zip line adventure:

One of many good decisions we’ve made on this trip was to engage Claudia to cook three dinners for us. The last thing any of us wanted to do was to find a restaurant and spend countless hours fighting traffic, waiting for a table, waiting for food and so on. And the meals she’s prepared have been really great. As she did Monday night, she prepared two meals, one for the seafood lovers (paella tonight) and traditional rice and beans Costa Rica style for the others. Everyone was pleased and we greatly enjoyed the relaxed at-home meal.

Griffin beat us all at Skyjo again before we hit the hay around 9 PM.

The only event we reserved before leaving home was zip lining through the jungle canopy. The catch was the departure time: 8 AM Thursday morning, a somewhat painful hour for a few of our number. But everyone was on deck with a pickup breakfast and ready to roll for the van that didn’t arrive until almost 9 AM.

The drive to the zip lining facility took an hour and a bit, traveling back toward Liberia before heading off into the hills. No real mountains here but rolling hills, mostly densely covered with trees and underbrush. The facility we visited was El Roble, which means oak tree so I’m guessing many of the trees we saw were some sort of oaks. If we were in Florida, I’d call them live oaks because the Costa Rican variety had that characteristic shape.

The zip line adventure comprised nine runs of varying lengths, some long, some fast, some slow and all passing just above the trees and undergrowth. Beautiful views on each run.

Griffin and Nana weren’t too sure about zip lining. Griffin’s uncertainty came quite logically, I believe, from a lack of knowledge and experience. Everyone else had done zip lining before. His hesitancy stemmed from lack of knowledge.

Nana had never zip lined before and does, indeed, suffer from ailments that, we hope, will be fixed when she gets her new hip joint on January 10. But as I reported earlier, she, with the help of the friendly and competent guides, did just fine. She actually traversed two lines all by herself and she and I went together on another line. And Griffin? He did great, doing several with a guide, one with Mom, one with Carter and a couple by himself.

I’ll let the pictures tell the rest of the story.

Back home, we had the afternoon open. Everyone was a bit tired from the early morning revelry call and the adventure, so we kicked back while Rebecca went down the hill to get sandwiches for lunch. Then, around 4 PM, most of us headed for the Ocho beach and some body surfing. We just spread our towels on the sand – no hired chairs nor umbrellas, just sand and surf. Griffin brought his football and played catch with Carter and Uncle Jeff. The kid can really heave the ball and has a mean spiral. Great fun, except that I dozed off towards the end only to be awoken by a wave that crashed and flowed over half of me and my blanket.

We were on our own for dinner and so we headed out to town hoping to find an Italian restaurant. It was dark, the traffic unbelievably heavy but after a couple of false starts, found a really nice place with outside seating in a grove of trees. Very pleasant setting and even though the whole production took two and a half hours, it worked out just fine. There were hammocks and swings and lemonade to occupy the kids while we waited.

Now it’s Friday morning and Rebecca led a group of kids to the beach so as to beat the crowds. Those of us too lazy stayed home, which gives me time to complete this message. Today is Beach Day so we won’t miss out entirely!

Tamarindo – December 26 – 27, 2022

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Finally, things are going pretty much according to plan. All eight of us made it to MIA in two vehicles, our Kia and an Uber, got through security precisely per plan. We Ricks have a thing about schedules, sometimes, and it’s nice when all the cells in the spreadsheet get checked off in an orderly fashion.

The flight to Liberia, Costa Rica was smooth, no delays and our luggage made it. Costa Rican customs involves not only presenting one’s passport but providing proof that lodging has been reserved and that a return flight has been booked. Coming to Costa Rica and living on the beach for an indeterminate period of time is frowned upon, I guess.

Our limo ride was at the curb waiting for us. The driver was helpful, friendly, courteous and a safe driver too. A little more than an hour was required to get to our house in Tamarindo. The countryside through which we drove was rural, and it was fun to watch Griffin react to his first exposure to a foreign country. Many of the houses and schools were modest and far different from those in Massachusetts that is his normal stomping grounds.

Our house – Casa Crusero Verde (it shows up on Google maps, if you’re interested) – has four bedrooms, a large kitchen with a bar that seats 10, a large family/living room complete with a pool table and a nice open air sitting area on the top deck. And, of course, the swimming pool. We all fit, although Carter and Reagan, taking one for the team, are time sharing one bedroom, with each spending half time on a living room couch. Rebecca, Esme and Griffin have one upstairs bedroom, Jeff the basement bedroom and Judy and I the other upstairs bedroom.

One interesting feature is that all four bedrooms have baths that are totally outdoors. Private, yes and fully equipped, but Griffin found a frog in his bathroom sink this morning. We were told to lock the bathroom door since an intruder could, in theory, gain access to the house through a bathroom. The house is in a gated community so intrusion is not likely but nonetheless, it’s a bit disconcerting to have to wrestle with a lock and key in the middle of the night.

Shortly after we arrived our two golf carts showed up. I signed our lives away and now we have two vehicles to carry us to and from town, a half mile or more to most spots. Walkable, yes, but the roads are dusty and the temperatures in the high 80s.

Getting acquainted with a new town is always the first order of business, no matter where you travel. Tamarindo was no different. Sure, we’ve all driven golf carts a bunch, but driving in heavy, albeit slow traffic is different. Finding our way to a place for lunch another challenge. Parking is not abundant in this the high season. But we were successful and even managed a grocery store stop to stock the larder before returning home. Lunch was at an outdoor bar and burger joint on the beach and while the service was slow the food was adequate and we could finally relax that most of this trip’s unknowns were behind us.

Our hostess, Claudia, cooked dinner for us, according to plan. She and her assistant prepared a nice mahi-mahi dinner for the four fish lovers in our group and beef tacos for Rebecca, Carter, Esme and Griffin who don’t like to get even close to an unopened can of tuna fish. It was nice to kick back, have a margarita or two and relax from the stress of the trip.

We all turned in at eight, believe it or not.

I’ve been brushing up on my Spanish, which needs a lot of brushing, believe you me. But interestingly, three of the first three people we’ve been in contact with speak French as their first language. Claudia is originally from Montreal. The golf cart guy spoke English with a strong French accent. And then there was the lady I chatted with at the bar at lunch time. She was French-speaking Canadian too.

Now before you get the wrong idea, it was not my plan to ditch Judy after 50 years and take up with some random woman at a Tamarindo bar. What happened was that the bar TV was showing football highlights. Griffin ponied up to the bar, got himself a glass of water, and watched the show while everyone else in our family sat at a table across the way. I, the caring grandfather that I am, sacrificed and joined him at the bar for an Imperial beer, the national drink of Costa Rica.

The lady at the next bar stool gave me her life story. She’s an English teacher at a college in Sudbury, Ontario and was adopted into a French-speaking family. This is her 34th trip to Costa Rica, “My credit card has a huge balance but Costa Rica is the place I love.” She met and befriended a couple in her Sudbury neighborhood. The man, she learned three years later, is her uncle, her deceased father’s brother. I could go on, but you get the drift of our conversation.

So now it’s Tuesday and time for a beach day.

We started with breakfast, mostly consisting of pastries and smoothies that Rebecca, Griffin, Esme and I procured in an early morning run into town. Then, we sat around the pool and opened Christmas presents and the usual array of calendars, thereby completing this year’s calendar exercise, the 22nd year by the way. We did 35 unique calendars with pictures of family and friends taken over the past year and printed a total of 78 calendars.

Then, we hopped on the golf carts and headed into town and the beach. Main Street Tamarindo fronts the beach and it’s a beach town just like you find in Maine, Florida and probably everywhere that one of the seven seas hits land. But it’s clean, the people so far are quite friendly and the vibe is good.

At the beach we found one guy who rented us a tent-like sun shade and eight lounge chairs. Another guy rented us two surf boards and two boogie boards. A third guy brought us drinks and ran a tab all day long. They don’t give this stuff away and at lunch time Carter, Griffin and I made a run home to get more cash. Lunch, at another surf-side restaurant, took credit cards, thank goodness.

So we had a beach day. Esme and Reagan surfed, Carter, Griffin, Rebecca, Jeff and I did the boogie boarded the waves while Nana held down the fort. We were in and out of the water until 4 PM or so. The waves were good sized, the temperature was in the upper 80s and there was a nice breeze blowing so it wasn’t oppressively hot.

We loaded up the carts and headed home with one crew stopping for more groceries. Jeff whipped up some dip for the chips and made us some great margaritas/lemonade. Some of us took a dip in the pool. Dinner was pizza delivered by a local pizza shop recommended by Claudia.

Dishes were done and a final game of cards played (Griffin won for a second night in a row) by 9 PM.

Aventura, FL – December 23, 24 and 25, 2022

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Costa Rica 2022

This the last week of the year and hence the last celebration trip of our 50th wedding anniversary. No need to recap all the other trips, covering more than 35,000 miles; they’re documented in other blog entries here on jonandjudy.com.

This time our whole family – all eight of us – will be spending a week or so in Costa Rica. This trip has two parts. First, Jeff, Reagan and Griffin are joining us in Miami for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Then, Rebecca, Esme and Carter fly to Miami the evening of Christmas Day. We all fly to Tamarindo, Costa Rica the next day.

JW Marriott Turnberry, Aventura, FL – December 24, 2022

Jeff and company departed Boston in the eye of the big winter storm that bedeviled travelers throughout the U.S. Their original non-stop to Miami was canceled. Jeff rebooked on a connection through Indianapolis and, as a safety measure, a nonstop to Tampa at 7 AM. The Indy connection was canceled as they pulled into Boston Logan but they made the Tampa flight with no problem. Judy and I picked them up in Tampa. We stopped in Punta Gordo for lunch with Judy’s cousin, Debby Hunter and we rolled into the Marriott about 5 PM.

Dinner last night was at the Corsair restaurant in the hotel. This is the place with the gigantic pretzel appetizer and Carter’s favorite, the seven-layer chocolate cake with raspberry sauce.

Today was Sailing Day, which turned out to be an adventure none of us anticipated. Jeff spent Thanksgiving in the British Virgin Islands becoming certified to captain sailing boats. He trained in a 49-footer and had arranged for a vessel of similar size here. His idea was to give us all an introduction to the sailing life.

The tentacles of the weather system that caused havoc the day before caused Miami temperatures to plummet to unseasonable levels. The high for the day was in the upper 50s.  We all bundled up with multiple layers of warmth. The storm system also kicked up six to eight-foot swells on the open water. Sailing in those conditions was not for newbies like us. We elected to stay in the Fort Lauderdale intercostal waterway where calm waters prevailed.

The owner of our boat, The Naked Truth, Captain Mark, has lived on the boat full time since 2007 and came along with us. He obviously wasn’t going to leave his only home in the hands of unknown sailors. The sailing wasn’t much more difficult than driving the Margaret B around Onawa Lake except that every 15 minutes or so there was a drawbridge to navigate through. Each bridge operates on a set schedule, generally 15 minutes after and before each hour. You must announce your intention to cross so the bridge attendant will raise the bridge. Captain Mark timed our traverse between bridges to not miss the opening. Failure would have added 30 minutes.

Captain Mark turned out to be an interesting fellow, full of personal life stories, ranging from at least two former wives and an untold number of lady friends across his 61 years. He trained as a musician at an early age, was educated as an engineer, spent time working in the newspaper industry and later on started a business transporting passenger cars from Point A to Point B. He had stories to tell about the rich people who have places along the Intercostal, including parities he’s attended and the scandals behind politicians and others who own places there that vastly exceeded the income an honest public servant should be able to afford.

Did I mention it was cold? We elected at noon time to stop at a restaurant on the Intercostal where we could moor while we ate. The Subway sandwiches we’d purchased for the trip didn’t get eaten but we had a great meal and a chance to warm up a bit.

After leaving Captain Mark and The Naked Truth we found our way to the Aventura Mall, where we joined the throng of last-minute shoppers for clothing for everyone but Nana, who I guess was on the Naughty list, although she is, as I’m sure Santa and you all know, at the top of the Nice list.

Dinner was at the Corsair restaurant again, this time with a very nice Christmas dinner featuring turkey with all the fixings, salmon and a burger big enough to challenge even Carter. And of course, we had to have a gigapretzle and the seven-layer you-know-what. Those Marriott folks know how to cook up some good grub. They know how to set a pretty impressive price point for their efforts.

During dinner I googled up a church service. Nana was prepared to watch a service recorded at the Methodist church in Sun City Center, but this one looked interesting. It was advertised as being in the Ancient Spanish Monastery, located fifteen minutes away by Uber. What’s not to like about that?

The Ancient Spanish Monastery turned out to be an Episcopalian church housed in a structure that was, indeed, once a Spanish monastery. William Randolph Hearst purchased it back in 1925, disassembled it and packed the stones in carefully numbered straw filled crates. U.S. customs, fearful of hoof and mouth disease tore the crates open, burned the straw and left the stones without their numerical designations. Hearst went broke and eventually the mess was purchased and erected in the 1950s. They make the claim that this is the oldest structure in the Western Hemisphere, having been built in 1133 AD. I suspect there are some Native structures that would challenge that claim, but whatever.

The service lasted almost two hours, testing the patience of some of our party. But Nana, and I liked it. The music featured a really good vocal quartet and a very loud organ whose bass notes in particular set every tooth a quivering. The organist was clearly pleased with himself and his ability to produce such dramatic noises.

We were back in the hotel shortly after midnight – Christmas Day – but tomorrow is a lay-back day, waiting for the Jet Blue sleigh to bring us the presence of Rebecca and her two elves, Esme and Griffin.  

December 25, 2022 – Christmas at the JW Marriott

Once again, a day that didn’t go as planned. The plan? Leisurely sleep-in after the late night before, open the Santa stockings (yes, the jolly old elf slid down the elevator shaft), open presents from and to each other (everyone had one to open),the breakfast brunch, more opening (calendars) and then games, a nap and Christmas dinner. Rebeca and her friends would arrive nine-ish, in time for a good nights sleep before the 9 AM flight to Costa Rica the next morning.

Golf on the resort course? At $180 per person plus a caddy for each person ($50 plus tip) we elected to forego the pleasure. Besides, it rained off and on all day. The temperature struggled to break 50.

What could go wrong with a simple plan like that?

Nothing until Rebecca called around 1 PM, during the third hand of cards, to announce that her nonstop Jet Blue flight had just been cancelled. She and Sammy were in the car with the kids on the way to the airport. What now?

The five of us dropped our cards, grabbed our phones and hit the reservation sites. It took all of us almost two hours to find a flight going from just about anywhere to just about anywhere on the East Coast. The wave of flight cancellations over the past two days had sucked up all available seats. Nothing, nada, zip.

Reagan finally scored.. She found a flight on Breeze Air (yes, there is such a thing) going from White Planes, NY to Jacksonville, FL, departing at 6:29 PM. The only alternative we could find was a departure on Wednesday. Sammy put the car in a suborbital trajectory for White Planes. ETA? 5:50 PM. A nail biter. 

Meanwhile, Jacksonville is 4+ hours north of Miami. Flights? You’ve got to be kidding. Finally we found a car service willing to send some kindly driver out in the middle of the night, for a price, to take the threesome to their hotel in Aventura. 

It all worked out in the end. Rebecca and then kids got in around 2 AM. Against all odds everyone was in place for the Costa Rican adventure to begin.

 

 

 

Jerusalem and the Via Dolorosa – September 18, 2022

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Yesterday I said the Garden Tomb was on shaky ground when claiming to be the place where Jesus was crucified. Today we visited the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the spot with a much better claim to being the real deal.

The day started with a return to the Garden of Gethsemane for the devotional that we were unable to do yesterday. The highlight was a talk given by the youngest member of our group; a 16-year-old-girl named Esa. She reflected on the hurt that Jesus must have felt when his trusted disciples failed him in this garden (they fell asleep rather than standing by his side during his final night on Earth) and how he felt betrayed when Peter denied him three times. Her point was that we have a duty to support those around us in time of need. It’s also our responsibility to be open with others when we are in need of help.

We visited the site of the Antonia Palace, built by Herod the Great and named by Herod for his Roman patron, Marc Anthony. The palace was destroyed in 70 CE along with the rest of Jerusalem by Hadrian (the wall guy). This is where, traditionally, it is believed that Jesus was brought for trial before Pontius Pilot. As usual, other places in Jerusalem are candidates for this role. And as always, the exact location is not important; it’s the remembrance of the event that counts.

This served as a starting point for walking the Via Dolorosa, the Sorrowful Way, or Way of Suffering. It’s the path that Jesus traveled to Calvary, carrying the cross, where he was crucified. There are 14 Stations of the Cross (the Gospels mention eight), commemorating events that occurred as he carried the cross. 

The path today isn’t exactly the same as two thousand years ago. First, Hadrian covered over a portion of the original road that Jesus would have traversed, to create a raised street for shops and traffic. We were able to walk under the raised street and see Roman era remains, including a place where guards played the Game of Kings, a game of chance perhaps like the game Jesus’s guards played to distribute his clothing. Other sections have more recent buildings that block the straight-line path. And of course, the narrow street is filled with fellow pilgrims and the streets are lined with food stalls and souvenir shops of every description. 

All these impediments, especially the shops and their insistent vendors, detract from one’s ability to contemplate Jesus’s suffering and eventual crucifixion. On the other hand, the importance of the Via Dolorosa to Christians means that many are attracted to the site. And where there are tourists, there are inevitably souvenir shops. So, it’s perhaps selfishness to wish that everyone else would stay home. Like the uncertainty of the location of historical sites, it’s the pilgrim’s responsibility to rise above the distraction and to contemplate the meaning of the events.

The end of the Via Dolorosa is the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. The church encompasses two sites of highest importance to Christianity. First Calvary, the place where Christ was crucified, according to tradition going back to the fourth century CE. It’s also known as Golgotha (skull). Nearby there is a stone slab on which it is believed Christ’s body was placed and anointed with oils and spices. His body was then placed in a tomb provided by Joseph of Arimathea. It was at the tomb that Mary Magdalene encountered the risen Christ. 

The church was established by Constantine the Great. After Constantine had legalizing Christianity, he sent his mother to Jerusalem to find the place where Christ was crucified. She, with the help of local bishops, found three wooden crosses, which convinced them 1.  To build a church here, a Roman temple to the god Jupiter/Venus, built by Hadrian 200 years or so earlier, had to be torn down. In the process they discovered a tomb, assumed to be Christ’s burial chamber. The church has been destroyed and rebuilt over the years, including a fire set in 614 CE by the Persians, and several earthquakes. The tomb, actually a cave with three burial spots, is today enclosed in a structure called the Aedicula, built in the 19th century.

I was somewhat surprised to see how close together Calgary and the tomb are – sites easily included in a single church. The site lies outside the walls of Jerusalem, as they existed at the time of Christ and is in a first-century graveyard. The line to see Jesus’s tomb was so long so we entered a different tomb from the same era only a few feet away.

Our day ended on the Teaching Steps, a long series of steps leading to the area where the Second Temple would have stood. This is the temple where Jesus is believed to have taught his elders when he visited Jerusalem when he was only 12 years old and where, during his ministry, he castigated the money lenders. We had a devotional there before Pastor Charlie and out guides declared the pilgrimage to be officially complete.

One surprise in the Old City, and throughout Israel for that matter, is the abundance of fresh fruit and vegetables. That was quite evident during our walk today with produce stands intermixed with t-shirt and souvenir shops. We shot a number of pictures to illustrate Old City commerce. 

Our trip home went as planned. No hitches, an on-time arrival and we were at our home in Melrose by 6:30 AM. Rebecca and her kids Esme and Griffin were there to greet us. I’m typing this final paragraph in the sunroom with Doby the grand-dog at my feet.

It’s good after 40 days on the road, to be home.

Jerusalem – September 17, 2022

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Today we visited a number of sites on the periphery of the Old City, each with a connection to the life and especially the crucifixion of Jesus. The problem with most of these sites is that very little archeological evidence remains from the first century CE, the time of Jesus and the Romans. The biggest problem is the total destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans in 70 CE, shortly after Jesus’s death in 30 CE. Jesus had actually predicted such destruction. After that, a succession of empires ruled Jerusalem: the Byzantines, Muslims, Crusaders Mamluks and Ottomans. Each contributed to the reconstruction of the ruined city. Most “old” buildings in Jerusalem date from the early Ottoman period in the 16thcentury.

The bottom line is that, with a few exceptions, the places we visited have some case to make for being the actual site where biblical events took place, but there’s no guarantee. It’s also necessary to filter out the noise of tourist crowds from every corner of the earth.

The important thing is to experience and imagine what Jesus experienced. We came away with a better ability to read the Gospel accounts with an understanding of the distances, terrain and geographical locations involved, and with a fresh reminder of the importance of that narrative.

Here’s what we saw today:

The Church of Saint Anne – the traditional birthplace of Jesus’s mother Mary. The church is noted for its acoustics and we did some singing to appreciate it. The Muslims decided to keep it when they took over rather than tearing it down, turning it into a mosque and preserving the sound quality. It’s owned by the French, and flies a French flag. They got it from the Ottomans as a thank-you gift for support in the Crimean War against Russia. 

Nearby is the Pool of Bethesda where Jesus miraculously healed a paralyzed man on the Sabbath. Jesus told the man to pick up his mat and walk. Rabbis accused the man of breaking the Sabbath by carrying the mat. The man said, “Jesus told me to do it,” creating evidence the rabbis could use against Jesus.

 The Mount of Olives (not a mountain; just a hill) was, for me, the most striking place we visited today. There is a perfect view of the Old City and our guide pointed out the path Jesus was forced to walk, from his arrest, imprisonment, trials and eventual crucifixion. He was forced to walk at least five miles, from one end of Jerusalem to the other and back again as Herod, Pontius Pilot and the rabbis debated his fate. It made the biblical account much more understandable.  

At the foot of the Mount of Olives we visited the church at the Garden of Gethsemane, the place where Jesus prayed the night he was arrested and where Judas identified him to the authorities. The place was too busy for us to hold the devotional service planned. We’ll go back for that tomorrow.

Next, Mount Zion and the Upper Room, the place revered as the place Jesus served his disciples the Passover meal –  the Laat Supper.

The Church of Saint Peter in Gallicantu is the place traditionally identified as the spot Peter repented after denying Jesus three times. Jesus, at the Last Supper, had told Peter he would deny him three times before the cock crowed. Gallicantu is a Latin Word meaning cock’s crow. This church was first built in the fifth century, rebuilt by the crusaders and rebuilt again in 1931.

The Church of Saint Peter in Gallicantu is also thought to be close to the Jewish Priest Caiaphas’ mansion. Caiaphas interrogated Jesus and, tradition has it, Jesus was imprisoned that night in a nearby cave that is known to have been a Roman prison. There are several other places in Jerusalem that lay claim to the prison location, but this one seems to have a pretty good story to tell.

Finally, the Carden Tomb, the place where Jesus is said to have been entombed after his crucifixion and where Mary and the others saw Jesus after his resurrection. The evidence is a bit sketchy, but the setting, owned and maintained by a British organization, is quite nice. We held a devotion that included communion for our group.

A full day, to be sure. Tomorrow we’ll do more in the Old City, including walking the Via Delarosa, the path Jesus took, carrying the cross, to Calgary and his crucifixion.

And then that’s it. Judy and I will leave for the airport at 8:30 PM for a 12:40 AM (Monday) nonstop to Boston. We’ll arrive at 5:50 AM, ending our 40-day odyssey.