It was late when he suggested we go out for a walk. The streets were quiet. The air was warm. We made our way through Jaffa Gate into the streets of the Old City. We followed the road along the wall. He pointed out the Cyrillic lettering over the archway – “It says ‘Armenian Quarter'” he explained. The streets were dark and narrow. Soon we decided it would be easier and faster to walk on the wall itself. We climbed up onto the large, giant stones. We made our way more quickly, but still the stones, although wide, were irregular. I had to step carefully. It occurred to me that, in ancient times, Roman garrisons had likely passed this way. What did he want to show me this late at night? Where were we going? We continued on the wall for some time, finally coming to an open area. We were at the Wall. There were guards. They were armed. This was not the time for tourists. He spoke with them for awhile in Hebrew. They waved us through. We didn’t walk toward the Wall – instead we walked across to the opposite side of the plaza. We climbed the stepping stones to the top. “There” he said. “Take a look” and we did.
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