Day 22 – Haifa, Akko

This morning we take the train to Akko, a small coastal town 15 km or so north of Haifa.

 

At its centre fortified Old Akko is a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage Site. Until 1948 the city relied on the northern springs of Calibri 14 km away for fresh water. The Ottoman aqueduct from the early 19th century, the last in a series constructed over 2,000 years, incorporated siphon towers to regulate the flow, and still survives in part.

In 1994 a complaint about a blocked sewer in Old Akko led to the chance discovery of the Templars Tunnel, a strategic subterranean passage, 350 m long, which connected the port and palace.

 

Back at the station, on the platform waiting for the return train to Haifa, there are hundreds of teenage soldiers each with a machine gun casually slung over a shoulder.

We return to the hostel to collect our backpacks and walk to the port in plenty of time for the two-hour check-in, which we have been advised is to suit Israeli security working hours.

We pass the first security checkpoint. At the second the officer calls the main terminal to notify them of our departure. We are then allowed to proceed to the departure terminal. Upon entering we are confronted and told to sit and wait. After 10-15 minutes a security officer comes over and interrogates us separately, one after the other. The line of questioning includes: how long we have been in Israel; where we stayed; what we did; how we booked our accommodation and travel; what we do for a living and how we got in to it; and where we went to university. (When I tell him I went to Liverpool he asks me which football team I support but rapidly loses interest when I tell him Colchester United.)  He then disappears to do a “security check”. We compare notes; we don’t think we have contradicted one another.

After a while we query what’s happening and are told he will return with the ferry company representative at 1830. At about 1840 our backpacks are scanned and then the rep arrives. The lack of other passengers and all of this personal treatment for an international ferry journey has left us a little puzzled. It transpires we are joining the return leg of a two-night, one-day excursion from Limassol to Jerusalem operated by the ferry company.

The rep takes us to passport control, where our passports are checked for the fifth time, through the duty-free shop, and on to the the ship. Everyone else is on the bus back from Jerusalem so we have it to ourselves, which confuses the predominantly Ukrainian crew.

Just as we start to relax, and realise we have not been charged the exit tax, I am called to reception over the tannoy to be told that the Israeli authorities want to see me. Apparently it is just a routine procedure, nothing to worry about. After a few minutes a friendly, casually dressed guy asks for our passports, gives them a cursory glance and says thanks. I ask him what the check is for and he tells me it is for Cypriot immigration.

Soon after we set sail. Dinner is included in the price, which we weren’t expecting, so we take our place in the drab restaurant at a rectangular table with two middle-aged Cypriot women, one of whom has a well-behaved daughter. Part way through the predictably bland meal I am again summoned to reception over the tannoy. I attempt to ignore the request while finishing the course but am pressed by a waiter, so I grumpily return to reception, bread roll and glass of wine in hand, to have our passports checked by the two disinterested, uniformed Cypriot women.

Overall we are a little disappointed that we have been unable to visit any Israeli projects or specialists, particularly given the political situation, as it leaves us open to criticism of bias. In our defence it has been difficult to make arrangements for various reasons: bad luck; Israel being a late addition to the itinerary; and, since we are travelling on a tourist visa, our own uncertainty of how the Israeli security forces might judge research activity.

Nonetheless my preparatory research unearthed some interesting people and developments to follow up when I am preparing the research paper.

Day 21 – Haifa

I have been trying to organise a visit to Intel’s new Development Design Center in Haifa which is due to become the company’s first LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) certified building, incorporating, amongst other things, grey water recycling for irrigation. Unfortunately it does not possible but I am invited to visit once construction is completed.

Instead we take the Carmelite, the only underground railway in Israel, to the top of Mount Carmel, find a cafe, and blog, email and research our way through the morning.

After lunch we take in the spectacular views north towards Akko and visit the verdant Baha’i Gardens, which were began in 1987 and transformed the northern slope of Mount Carmel. It is allocated 180 million litres of water per annum for irrigation but through the application of sophisticated irrigation technology actually uses about 130 million litres, some of which is recycled greywater.

The Baha’i faith is one of the youngest religions in the world, originating in Shiraz, Iran in the mid 19th century. It has 5-6 million followers worldwide, each of whom must perform a pilgrimage here at least once during their life.

 

Later we make our way through the central Haifa, down to the HaShmona Merkaz station and take a train to Haifa Hof HaKarmel, where we spend a relaxing evening.

 

Day 20 – Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Haifa

We spend the morning visiting Temple Mount, the foundation stone of the world itself to Jews and the site of Mohammed’s ascension to heaven to Muslims. Even the subject of water is contentious here with recent rumours of water flowing from the Foundation Stone.

  

After some street food for lunch we embark on an epic journey to Jerusalem’s Malha station, which is conveniently located ~ 5 km southwest of the Old City. Another station closer to central Jerusalem has been closed, which seems somewhat perverse given the ongoing Jerusalem Mass Transit System Project. (Even this is mired in controversy, with the new light rail routed through territories captured in the Six-Day War and traffic congestion resulting from the construction leading the Mayor to propose cancelling the project after the first two lines are completed.) However there are plans for a new train line in to Jerusalem, one of many indicated on the rail network map.

We walk to the Jaffa Gate and board a bus to Jaffa Road. After a short interrogation the driver agrees to sell us the two-journey tickets we have asked for. It’s not clear which side of Jaffa Road the next bus departs from but we cross the road twice, get the same answer from two locals, and wait a while. The bus is very crowded, more so for the numerous pushchairs that are rammed in unfolded.

After a leisurely cruise through the suburbs we arrive at Jerusalem Mall. There is hardly anyone around. We have seen a sign to the station. We try to check with a local but he doesn’t know where the station is, so we walk down to a major road junction, traverse it and spot the station to the right.

After another humourless security check, which includes emptying our backpacks whilst being jostled by impatient Israelis, we are allowed in to the station. There are no facilities other than vending machines, so we board the waiting train, which soon fills up with noisy and unruly families. It takes two hours to travel the 60 km or so at a tediously slow pace, through the hills and out on to the coastal plain. It’s difficult to see anything clearly through the filthy windows but we notice the fields of crops on the plain being irrigated.

Although drip irrigation has been used since ancient times, when buried clay pots were filled with water that gradually seeped into the earth, the modern drip irrigation technology was invented in Israel, by Simcha and Yeshayahu Blass.

We have to break our journey in Tel Aviv, so we take the opportunity to explore for a few hours. First stop is the Dancing Camel microbrewery near Tel Aviv HaShalom station. It is not open but the staff are very hospitable and invite us in for a taster of each of the six beers on tap, followed by a pint of India Pale Ale, and we chat about the brewery, beer, water, Tel Aviv, military service.

After accepting the generous offer of a lift with a delivery run, we stroll along the front for a short while and then in to the city centre, where we break for a salad. A friendly bus driver helps us back to Tel Aviv Savidor Merkaz station, where we are subjected to more routine security check.

The train to Haifa is also very busy train but we arrive on time and are greeted by the curious, pervading smell emanating from the huge Dagon grain silo next to station. We check in to a hostel and, at the second attempt, are given a key for an unoccupied room.

Day 19 – Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Bustan Qaraaqa

We take the No. 21 bus to Bethlehem, a largely Christian town on the West Bank. It is noticeable that the buses serving the West Bank are old minibuses with no air conditioning, in contrast to the modern buses on the Israeli side.

The bus heads south through Jerusalem’s suburbs and before too long we are driving alongside the infamous, imposing ‘security wall’ and, to our surprise and relief, pass through the checkpoint in to Bethlehem with minimal fuss. The bus terminates in an apparently random location but soon we are in a taxi heading for Bustan Qaraaqa (the Tortoise Garden), a community permaculture project based in the West Bank town of Beit Sahour (Shepherds’ Fields), just to the east of Bethlehem.

We are met by Alice who invites us in and offers us drinks, where we discuss her experiences of life, and in particular, water management, on the West Bank. She says that over the last 50 years, in the name of progress, there has been a trend away from “primitive”, traditional approaches to water management, which has left individual Palestinians dependent on modern infrastructure that they have little control over.

The water supply is regularly cut off for up to a month in Bethlehem and up to three months elsewhere on the West Bank, even in the winter when more rain falls. Water pressure is also frequently inadequate to reach rooftop storage tanks.

There are 200,000 Palestinians not connected to mains water at all. And though 60 % have a foul drainage connection only 10 % of sewage is actually treated, the remainder being dumped in wadis where it contaminates watercourses.

As with most issues in Israel and the Palestinian Territories, there is clearly a significant political dimension to water management, which I do not feel adequately informed to comment upon. The bullet points below simply outline some of Alice’s observations on water and waste infrastructure on the West Bank.

• Fragmented control impedes infrastructure development. The cities and towns are classified ‘A’ (Palestinian civil and military control) but are typically surrounded by countryside designated ‘C’ (Israeli civil and military control, covering circa 60 % of the West Bank by area), so it is impossible for the Palestinian Authority to initiate major infrastructure projects without Israeli consent.
• Israel benefits from the status quo: it is a water stressed country and the West Bank aquifer is a major supply source. Average domestic water consumption in Israel is around 2.5 times that in the Palestinian Territories (50 litres per person per day).
• Israelis do not experience the same interruption of supply, evidenced by the lack of water storage tanks on their houses, which has only just become mandatory under local building codes.
• Most Palestinian farmers wishing to increase their water storage capacity require Israeli consent, which is typically not forthcoming. Many proceed at risk and some have been issued demolition orders, which may or may not be implemented.

In response Bustan Qaraaqa advocates a grass roots approach:

“where governments and development agencies are failing, perhaps individuals and communities can succeed if only they recognise their own power to deal with the problems that are facing them.”

With water delivered by tankers being 4-6 times more expensive than the mains supply, maximising water storage capacity is an ongoing priority. Apparently stagnation is, in reality, not a problem. Water is transferred to clear plastic bottles, left on the roof for a day to be UV sterilised by the sunlight, and then decanted to clay jugs, where it quickly cools off before being consumed.

A new 90 m³ cistern has been added at the head of the wadi, which will help to support a major new tree planting programme next year. Olives, figs, carib, apricots and other fruit is already grown (for subsistence rather than commercially). There are more than half a dozen storage vessels for domestic use, and more are planned.

Consumption is also kept to a minimum at ~ 12.5 litres per person per day for drinking, cooking and ablutions. An old composting toilet has been restored, and water is recycled twice for dishwashing (rinse, wash, soak).

Consequently there is not much greywater but what there is is collected, recycled and used for growing mint, which as well as being tasty makes excellent mulch.

It a fascinating insight to life on the West Bank. Alice also gives us contact details for Marad al Kahuffash, who is running another local permaculture project in Mada village, adopting a slightly more technological approach. One to follow up once we are back, as time is short.

We pay a fairly brief visit to Bethlehem before returning to Jerusalem.

  

The security check on the way back in to Jerusalem is more rigorous, with all passengers disembarking for an identity card/passport check.

In the evening we manage to sample some beer from the Taybeh Brewery, the only microbrewery in the Arab world, which I am sure would make another interesting case study in water management.

Day 18 – Jerusalem

We are staying at the excellent Lutheran Guest House in the Christian Quarter of the Old City. We spend the morning exploiting the free internet connection and then visit the New City, stopping for a good lunch at a vegetarian cafe. on a quiet square just off Jaffa Road.

After lunch and in to the evening we wander the narrow souqs and streets of the Old City before returning to the New City for Israeli beer and wine, followed by bagels.

Although Jerusalem was naturally defensible its major fresh water source ,the Gihon spring, lay beyond the city walls. Hezekiah’s Tunnel, or the Siloam Tunnel , was dug in about when the city came under siege from the Assyrians. It leads from the spring to the Pool of Siloam, curving through 533 m at a gradient of 0.6 %.

According to the Siloam inscription found within the tunnel, it was excavated by two teams, one starting at each end of the tunnel and then meeting in the middle, though it is apparent from that several directional errors were made during its construction. Recent discoveries concerning a related tunnel, Warren’s Shaft, have suggested that the tunnel may have been formed by substantially widening a pre-existing natural karst (dissolution of layer(s) of bedrock).

   

 

  

Day 17 – Aqaba, Eilat, Jerusalem

Today is the day we intended to visit Wadi Rum, a spectacular desert and mountain landscape two hours’ drive inland from Aqaba. (In particular we had hoped to see USAID sponsored project recycling greywater for agricultural use, which apparently, after initial scepticism has been embraced by the locals.)

However access is strictly controlled, effectively limited to organised tours approved by visitor centre, which also regulates prices (67 JD (£ 57.35) per person for a half-day tour).  Since we cannot glean any information on public transport (there is rumoured to be one minibus per day from Aqaba) we would need to take a taxi, at 40 JD (£ 34.25), making the overall cost 87 JD (£ 74.45) per person for half a day.

This is symptomatic of our experience of Jordan, which is becoming increasingly tarnished by the tiresomely persistent hawkers, high prices and the extremely limited public transport. The standard greeting “Welcome to Jordan” is starting to ring hollow.

So we decide to leave Jordan a day earlier than planned. After taking a taxi from the hostel to the border we pass through the Jordanian procedures within 15 minutes and walk through the no man’s land to Israeli border control.

The first part is a security check, which involves emptying our backpacks and various x-rays. The second part is immigration. The flow of people across the border is a trickle, less than a dozen people an hour we reckon, and everyone but us and two amiable French guys is waved through. We sit for an hour and a half in a fly-infested (though air-conditioned) tent. Needless to say the common ground between us and our new Gallic friends is that we have all been to Syria, which makes this tedious “security check” routine treatment. The third part of the charade is a surprisingly rapid and disinterested customs check. We are then free to go the toilet and be ripped off at the bureau de change.

We share a taxi in to Eilat with the French chaps, buy tickets for the bus to Jerusalem at 1630 (the first of the day because it’s Shabbat) and wander in to Eilat in the searing heat. It has a very touristy and American vibe but on the upside we enjoy the best coffee for some time. (I quite enjoy the Turkish variety, especially with cardamom, but the ubiquitous Nescafe and desperate instant cappuccino have left me yearning for a Monmouth double espresso.)

We wait for the coach at the advertised bay, join the scrum to put our luggage in the hold and jostle to board, only to discover that our coach will be departing from another bay. (Our Hebrew is on a par with our Arabic.) We are just in time and soon we are heading north. There is little evidence of water scarcity here, with various plantations and polytunnels on our right for mile after mile. And at the service station we stop at the outside seating area is being evaporatively cooled.

Once we reach the shores of the Dead Sea agriculture gives way to salt mining and other industry. We are a little surprised that the bus route takes us through the West Bank. Darkness falls and we see the lights of Jericho, the lowest town in the world at 260 m below sea level, to our right as we head west on Route 1 towards Jerusalem.