Travel Biography - Week 52.

Happy Anniversary!

The photos here are from various trips to Israel, including those taken in 2000.

This is Week 52 of this Biography. This means that it's been a year since I wrote and published Week 1. To be honest, I didn't realise that I would still be writing this a year on! It goes to show that more had occurred during my travelling days than I could have ever imagined. And so far, I'm not done yet. There are plenty more experiences still to be covered - some even mind boggling. 

Jews gather at the Western Wall, 1994.

The Feast of Tabernacles, Jerusalem, 2000

Whether my present academic level is seen as an advantage or a disadvantage, that's the opinion of the reader. However, let me say once again, I had never attended a university. But, as I see it, life is a university. For example, by hiking the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, I was able to learn the fundamentals of Geology. Or, as I'm covering at the moment, observing the way of life in the Middle East has brought the Bible more to life than any theological college lectures could have ever done.

And we're living during the time of human history when the truthfulness of the Bible is questioned and then disregarded as irrelevant in our lives. I believe that there are two kinds of doubters. First, there are those who have an adequate knowledge of the Bible but deliberately push away the truth of its historicity, especially where it conflicts with the theories of Charles Darwin. Professor Richard Dawkins, the author of his book The God Delusion, is one example. Chris Hitchen's book, God is Not Great is another of the same category of academics. Then there is Alexander O'Connor, an atheist YouTuber whom I met and spoken to personally in the Sutra Room of Oxford Trinity College just before the pandemic outbreak in 2020. At present, he has 66,368,722 views across nearly 200 videos, and rising. He also travelled the world, particularly the USA, to deliver lectures to large audiences in theatre and university settings, as well as from broadcasting studios.

Then there are those who spend their time pondering on whether there is truth in the historicity of the Bible and has a desire to learn more about it. To them, I would recommend a visit to the Holy Land to see for themselves. Perhaps one could travel as an independent backpacker, like I did in 1976 and again in 1993. Or be part of a ranger-led Christian tour group, like two of my church friends. Either way, just to visit the sights in the Holy Land will be enough to blow the mind from scepticism about the historical truth of the Bible.

Then there are those in the third category - true Bible believers, such as my two friends, Gareth and Sam, along with myself. The idea of visiting the Holy Land was not just to reassure us of our faith, but to strengthen it.

 Monks inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, 1993.

Alternate site of Christ's Resurrection, 1994.

The After-Effects of the 1993 Trip to Israel.

The 1993 trip to Israel, the second of the four (the later two were in 1994 and the year 2000) had a profound mental, spiritual and emotional effect on me. Beginning with a vision I had whilst at work during October of 1992, the mission, if that what it was, was fulfilled. That had left me with a strong desire to return, and all my thoughts and feelings, along with my mental outlook, radically changed!

When I took a nap on my bed in my apartment, I have had dreams that I was still in Jerusalem, and at the New Swedish Hostel in particular. All the other countries I had visited, mainly in Europe and North America, were overshadowed by the spiritual and historical memories of Israel, and the positive power that land had on me.

Therefore, I was keen to find out about The Church's Ministry to the Jews, or known in the Holy Land as ITAC (Israel Trust of Anglican Churches.) But after returning home from the 1993 trip, I didn't have enough to fund the project, and unless I had adequate funds, I wouldn't be able to fulfil the dream. Unlike for the 1993 trip, this time I had no visions, and there was no rapid saving scheme as there was before. Yet, my desire to return, perhaps for a whole year, was very strong.

In the course of time, even after consulting with my parents to find out how they felt and getting a positive but cautious response, I enquired at the organsation's London headquarters about volunteering in Israel. I received a pamphlet and an application form. Also, after submitting the forms and receiving a letter of acceptance, there was a requirement to go to an office in North London to receive a talk about one venue I was assigned, Stella Carmel, a former hotel purchased by ITAC and turned into a Christian conference centre.

I felt excited when the letter of acceptance arrived. However, it was for Jerusalem that I applied for, but there was already a volunteer working there. Stella Carmel seem to open a new area of experience. It was located on the outskirts of a small provincial town of Isfiya, right of the summit of Mt Carmel, a ridge of high ground running southeast from the port of Haifa, and also near the traditional site of Elijah's contest against the prophets of Baal.

It was when I attended a talk in North London with three or four other would-be volunteers that I felt something of a warning. The slim, middle-aged lady who lectured us about the ins and outs of Stella Carmel did not radiate a pleasing personality, but tended to be very matter-of-fact, stern, and somewhat bossy. She knew every inch of the hilltop property. Little did I know at the time that in the last preceding months, possibly even weeks, she was a member of full-time staff and the head of all domestic duties. That is, she assigned duties to all volunteers who were on the domestic rota, both male and female, and kept them under critical supervision, especially with the young men. After a short while, the men in particular began to complain to the Director, Peter Acton, with one desperate young man pleading earnestly, Please, for crying out loud, don't put me to house! (domestic duties.)

Eventually, she was brought before the director and the ITAC committee, to be transferred to the office in London. Although she hadn't committed any offence, hence she wasn't dismissed, but her treatment of the volunteers placed under her wasn't acceptable, and she had to go. And this was a Christian organisation where all staff and volunteers must be committed churchgoers.

But, of course, I knew nothing about any of this. Yet, my father had an instinct of what these organisations were really like, hence added caution to his positive response. As a boy, he too had suffered some bad church experience whilst staying at a convent, especially for taking communion without first confessing to the priest, and receiving a hard smack across his face by an angry nun.

In 1994, the church I attended was Ascot Baptist Church, located not far from the famous horse racecourse, Royal Ascot, called that since our Queen attended the races every year during her lifetime. Our pastor, the late Barry Buckingham, along with four deacons: Bill Hopkins, Les Draper, Andy Moore and Tim Kingcott, were our elders of the day. When I told them about my intention to live in Israel for a year, Barry was keen to write a confirmation letter to CMJ endorsing my membership at ABC, a requirement when applying to be a volunteer with them.

As for finance, our elders became aware of my situation, and after discussing the matter among themselves, I believe that it was Tim Kingcott who interceded on my behalf, and the church eventually donated £200 towards the cost, enough to buy an open return ticket from London Gatwick to Tel Aviv. The rest of the funding was from my own savings.

Coral Beach, Eilat, 2000.

Marine Life at Coral Beach, Eilat, 2000

A major problem I had to solve before take off, and that was my unwillingness to leave my apartment vacant for up to twelve months. So, having received permission from the Council, who was the landlord at the time, I had to look for someone to live in my apartment and pay the rent under my name. It was known as subletting, and it could be a risky business. The tenant could refuse to vacate the apartment at my return. Aware of the risk, it was my father who volunteered to monitor his tenancy whilst I'm away, ensuring that the rent is paid and his duties fulfilled.

I called at various firms that employs young graduates, such as ICL Computers (now Fugitsu) and the Met Office. These high tech firms have employees who, having just graduated, have their own agencies that find homes for these people. Quite often, cohabitation between two or more was quite common. When I told them when I was vacating my apartment, I made known to them that all this was temporary, and I could be back at any time.

One of the firms I consulted did have someone who was willing to move in. Apparently, he moved in soon after I flew out, having spent the last-but-one night in the UK as a guest at my friend Gareth's apartment. That morning, he went off to work at the National Westminster Bank whilst I headed for the station to board the train for London Waterloo, then to spend a night at a Youth Hostel (YHA St Paul's) before flying out on the next day.

With my Beloved, 19 weeks pregnant, 2000.

That full day spent in London, I felt strange, very strange! In one sense, I was homeless, and chances were that my apartment, the very place I lived in since 1976, was about to be lived in by someone else, a stranger whom I had never met, even if monitored closely by my father. I made my way to Hyde Park. I looked around at the Inner City greenery, the oh-so-familiar "London's lungs" - the area where I became familiar since early childhood. Only one task remained while I was still in the UK. That is to buy a large square of Cadbury's Wholenut Chocolate for Peter's wife.

Suddenly, I was wondering - what the heck had I let myself in for? Up to that point, I felt safe and secure here in the UK. I had my own business, I had my own home, even if it was rented, and my family wasn't far away. I travelled freely, having visited Israel, along with a good part of Europe, and North America. But during these trips, I always had a return ticket, a date for thre return journey, a home and a job awaiting me. But this? Literally homeless, knowing that I will be flying out of this country into a faraway destination, to swop a life of self-employment - working for myself without a boss or supervisor - to working for a boss and my output under constant supervision. For what? Indeed, what have I let myself into?

And so the feeling of apprehension as I made my way back into the City to bed down. I almost wanted to suddenly call the whole thing off, jump on the next train to Bracknell and inform Dad that it's off. But no. I was determined to see through the whole experience, to see what it's like living in Israel, and what it would be like to experience the day-by-day living cheek-by-jowl with those who share my Christian faith.

On the next day, the plane bound for Tel Aviv soared into the air on time, with no delays at the airport departure lounge. My destiny awaits.

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Next Week: How I earned the title, "The man of Israel."