Camera in hand, I unlatched the hotel fire door and crept out onto the scorching roof. It was 5 o’clock in the afternoon but still intensely bright and a solid 30 degrees.
The view. The whiteness. The intensity.
Suddenly I was aware I had company. A waiter on a break. He too was just staring out at the city view.
‘Where are you from?’ he asked.
‘London’ I responded.
[Silence.]
‘This is my city.’ He informed me.
[more Silence.]
‘Where do you live in the city?’ I grew curious.
‘On Mount of Olives, just over there.’ He pointed.
I told him that we had been hoping to go there this evening to watch the sunset over the city. But that we had been advised that it might not be best. ‘Things can get tricky up there’ a taxi driver had warned us.
My waiter looked emotional.
‘Your taxi driver is right. Enjoy my city but there is unrest so please take care.’
Mount of Olives, Jerusalem.
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