Jerusalem -- a city of riches where the streets are paved with prayers. One author described this ancient wonder as feeling as if the air was so stifilingly thick with devotion that it was like breathing the smog of the industrialized west. Seemingly a fusion of the magesty and architectural richness of Prague, fused with the chaotic and tangled streets of Varanasi, serendipitously leading to cathedrals or mosques or narrow alleys stuffed with vendors hawking insence and piles of meat. The old quarters of the city surrounded by massive walls which have been build and destroyed over the ages only to be rebuild by the Inquisitors or Mamaluks or the Romans as each marched armies from one continent to the other. Within, the city is quartered into regions owned by the Jews, the Armenians, the Christians, and the Muslims respectively, and this respect is maintained with perhaps only a little tension and demarkation so you can easily walk through the narrow bazaars of shops selling crucifixes seemlessly flowing into an area of pushcart vendors with baklava rolling slowly past the silent men drinking Turkish tea and sucking apple-flavored smoke from the nargeela.

A plethora of ancient wonders all jumbled together ensure that most are only discovered by chance and circumstance, with the Cenacle, the location of the Last Supper, hiding at the end of an alley with no signs to denote this landmark site. Entering this hallowed room there were no pictures or descriptions or guides, making me wonder how many other riches were hiding amidst the jumble like so many precious shells thrown up on the beach and lost amidst the churning surf. Other sites such as the Curch of the Holy Sepulcher where Jesus was crucified, and the birthplace of Mary, the Dome of the Rock on the Temple Mount, identified with Mount Moriah where Abraham was asked to sacrifice his son Isaac. All these wonders and more await the ardent seeker, and those with strong legs and sturdy shoes. After all, Jerusalem conforms to the contours of a hilly landscape.