These days, getting through central Jerusalem is no simple task. Even walking to the Western Wall has become a sweaty, complicated expedition that demands faith, patience, and a solid sense of direction
I board a bus, then get off. I remember – the light rail isn’t running properly. I walk. Then board another bus, walk again. This has become my weekly journey: a fragmented pilgrimage to the Kotel. For 14 long weeks, as the light rail undergoes upgrades and merges with new lines, what used to be a simple trip has become a complex web of footpaths and roundabout detours
Not long ago, I would simply get off at Safra Square, walk toward Jaffa Gate, pass through the Armenian Quarter, down to the Jewish Quarter – and arrive. But now, after the tracks were dismantled (and no one seems to have planned ahead), everything feels torn apart. To reach the bus routes that imitate the old line, I must walk endlessly. Only after the pedometer hits thousands of steps do I even reach the Old City
When the journey breaks you – but faith carries you forward
Much has already been written about Jerusalem’s transportation crisis: endless traffic, dusty sidewalks, long waits for buses that may never arrive. After stepping off your third bus of the day in the blazing midday sun near Tzahal Square, you still have more to go. It's not just a workout – it’s a kind of personal trek, a spiritual march through the city’s physical and emotional terrain
And finally, you arrive. The air shifts. Something about the atmosphere near the Wall feels lighter, charged with ancient presence. Even after countless visits, the feeling is always fresh. You breathe deeper
I admit: there were moments on the way when I almost gave up. Thought about turning around. Maybe come back when the trains are running again. But then something shifted
Tourists beside me, with hats and sunscreen, seemed to whisper: "It’s okay. We’ll make it." Walking alongside them created rhythm – a beat that pulled me forward. Suddenly, the heat felt manageable, the sweat evaporated. The sight of the walls, towers, mosques, and churches turned the hardship into something else entirely – a meditation, a walking prayer
Finally, I placed my hand on the ancient stones. Cool to the touch. Like a glass of water in the desert
And in that moment – everything changed
The fatigue lifted. The frustration dissolved. And what was once a logistical mess became a reminder: faith, persistence, and presence are stronger than any broken track or missed bus
