Back to the olive groves

Our final day in Bethlehem was spent picking olives. Such a great way to decompress after all that has happened this week

We visited an olive press owned and run by a cooperative of local farmers - 950 or so - and thus saw the process of turning olives into oil. 

I'll not go into details now, but suffice to say it includes a machine that sucks the leaves and twigs out, another one that cuts the olives, one that washes and mashes them, and one that separates oil from water

And if you want to know the difference between normal and extra virgin olive oil? well, just ask - I've kind of got the hang of it ;-)

And the rest of the day was picking olives - black and green, the low hanging ones and the ones at the top of the tree and all those in between. 

Feet on the ground, then up ladders and also climbing the trees - I'm delighted to say I've done all three and not got any injuries along the way. 

Space to breathe, space to think, space to reflect and space to just gaze out across the landscape that is the same as Jesus would have walked in, that David would have herded the sheep in, that Ruth would have gleaned in. 

And amidst that was time laughing and eating and drinking with Basheer, and a couple of his friends. 

A calming, beautiful day to end an incredible week. Just the Yad Vashen Memorial museum tomorrow and then home to mayoral, council and 'rest of my life' duties, engagements and activities.