We drove back to Jerusalem, and on to the road to Bethlehem. I had cycles this route twice before, but I was surprised by the huge volume of traffic and the urban sprawl, between the cities.
Finally we came to that awful wall dividing people and we had to leave our taxi and find another on the Palestinian side. We were driven to the Church of the Nativity by an extremely pleasant driver.
We met a guide outside the Church who challenged us to name the man the statue represented. I told him it was St George. He was amazed I knew and said I was the first person to correctly identify him. St George was a Christian soldier in the Roman Army.
We entered the beautiful but rundown Church and made our way down to the grotto which is known all around the world as the birthplace of Jesus. The experience was very moving. My granddaughter texted her friends about being where we were and its significance. One replied immediately:
“Is it a big maternity hospital?”
Granddaughter said “Dont worry grandad, she is a bit thick!”