5-28-15. Tiberias, Israel
After a two hour charade at the car rental office (I was given a GPS that would not charge, and then no less than three faulty chargers), I finally left Jerusalem mid-morning, and drove for about an hour and a half to the underwhelming site of Caesarea. For virtually the entire Roman period, this was the largest, wealthiest, and most important city in Palestine, boasting up to 100,000 inhabitants and many spectacular buildings. Over centuries of abandonment and neglect, however, most of this grandeur was systematically dismantled; stones from Caesarea were used to build and rebuild Jaffa, Acre, and a host of smaller coastal cities. What remains is lamentably touristy. The medieval walls now shelter a whole district of bars and restaurants, and a modern dive center perches beside the remains of the Roman harbor. These amenities pander to the endless busloads of package tourists who spill through the gates, blunder along the marked paths, and then repair to the restaurants. I felt faintly ridiculous as I wove between tour groups, trying to snap photos of the rebuilt theater and a lackluster bathhouse. The site of probably the most interesting monument in Caesarea, the so-called “Promontory Palace,” residence of the procurators of Judaea, is marked only by a few re-erected columns and a wave-washed foundation hole.
The site’s utter lack of romance was epitomized by the graveyard of ancient columns beside the barbed wire boundary fence at its far end, overlooked by the smokestacks of a neighboring factory.
Fortunately, Beit Shearim, my second stop, was much more satisfying. Though never an important city like Caesarea, Beit Shearim was, with Tiberias, one of the most important centers of Jewish culture and scholarship in the centuries after the destruction of the Temple. The burial there of Judah HaNasi, a famous second-century rabbi, made the city something of a pilgrimage center, and the final destination of wealthy Jews from across the eastern Empire who wished to buried near the sage. Many of the tombs they carved into a rocky hillside below Beit Shearim have been excavated, and the two largest are open to visitors. One, the so-called Cave of Sarcophagi, is (as its name suggests) filled with nearly 100 stone coffins, many decorated in a distinctive style; I especially liked an example carved with representations of strange half-lion, half-fish creatures. The other is the family tomb of Judah HaNasi himself, the highlight of which is the rough hole in one corner in which the rabbi was laid. Unfortunately this, like all the other burials at Beit Shearim, was desecrated by tomb robbers centuries ago. Coming from the tourist mill of Caesarea, I was pleased to note that I shared the site with only two small groups, both composed of elderly Israelis.
Like so many places in Israel, Tiberias, my base for the next few days, seamlessly blends the roles of holy city and tourist trap. A number of Jewish sages (including the famous Maimonides) are buried here; but their tombs stand on the margin of a place wholeheartedly devoted to capturing the shekels of weekend visitors. My hotel is squarely in the middle of the tourist zone, and I am equal parts appalled by my surroundings and pleased by their convenience. I have to admit that I dove through the doors of the first McDonald’s I saw, and purchased the half-pound “Big America” burger. Authenticity would be out of place here.