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Writer's pictureCerys Jones

Tales from the Holy Land: 'The Pool of Tiberias'

'The Pool of Tiberias', or, 'A Heated Hot Spring'...


~ Disclaimer: the following article contains some explicit language and views readers may find offensive. They do not represent my personal opinions, the following is just what I heard, and recorded.


Nestled among verdant slopes surrounding the town of Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee, are a series of natural hot springs.

Entry to the park cost us a mere fourteen shekels. I say mere, considering the priceless entertainment which would ensue.


Visitors walk up into the gardens, and can choose from three salty pools in which to bathe. The higher up the hill one ascends, the hotter the pools get, as they get closer to their geothermal source. My dad and I opted for the highest, a cosy rectangle of 40 degrees Celsius salty, bubbling water. It also came with a crew worthy of supper-club status.

I'll set the scene. Firstly, us two rosy-cheeked Brits, and following the pool around anti-clockwise, a mellow, middle-aged couple from Tel Aviv, a couple of Israeli oldies who were of few words but many beaming smiles, and a couple of newly-weds-to-be, from near Tel Aviv, of Jewish, Egyptian and Eastern European descent- (they were very cool, and even gave us a lift back to our hotel later on).

But by far the most fascinating case in our supper club style meeting, was a young Slavic-sounding woman sat opposite me.

Her face was flushed a bright red from too long spent in the hot water, and consequently her mascara had bled around her eyes, giving her the aura of an especially sinister panda. With zealot, undiscriminating rage and passionate cynicism, this girl of about thirty managed to single-handedly insult not only everyone in the pool, but pretty much every tribe, language, religion and nation outside of it too. (that said, my dad and I got off easy- apparently the English and French didn't bother her as much)


"So here, I've been stuck in this stupid country for twenty-three years". The Israelis (i.e. everyone, apart from me and my father) in the pool shuffled a little uncomfortably. "I hate this place. The religion here is not Jew, Christian or Muslim, it is arse". I took a minute to understand her pronunciation of 'arse', and chuckled rather too late. A little later, when I asked the woman to my right where she was from, she happily replied "Tel Aviv", and humbly added she thought this was the best place in Israel to live. "Pffurgghh", our Slavic friend scoffed. She clearly had different ideas. "Ughh, no, terrible city". She didn't elaborate.

It took me some time to gage whether or not she was joking, but she appeared sincerely disgusted. For better or for worse, I opted for my classic cultural go-to reaction: British politeness, with complimentary, regular awkward nods of the head. In my defense, I was in no mental state to object or discuss with her. I was quite heavily doped by the temperature of the bubbling spring. Anyway, she wasn't done yet.


This lady spoke excellent English and Hebrew, and explained she wanted to improve her Russian mother tongue. Arabic (Israel's joint official language), she was not too keen on to say the least. "I don't like Arabic. Every second word sounds like someone puking". She promptly proceeded to imitate some dramatic retching noises. I clenched my buttocks and desperately hoped that no one was Arab, or spoke Arabic in the pool. No one reacted. All clear it seemed, I sighed.


Periodically, whether thanks to her hot temperament or the heat of the volcanic spring water, she would get out of the pool ( you can tell I didn't have much else to do, as I thoroughly observed her every move, unashamedly entertained) to cool off. After a few minutes, it was back in, and back to business.


I was enthralled by her, trying to guess what she would say, who might be caught in her line of fire next. I'll admit I was amused, but I also did feel a pang of sorrow for her. She explained she had been born in Russia to a mixed family, had spent a portion of her childhood in the Ukraine, before moving to Israel some twenty years ago. One of her grandmothers lived in Ukraine, the other in Russia. There was surely some pain masked behind her intense sarcasm. The sentimentality didn't last very long though.


We asked her what she thought of the conflict in Ukraine. "I saw it coming" she replied without hesitation. "Putin is a crazy motherfucker".

"So, where is the hope?" I inquired, "Hope? Only an idiot would have hope" was her blunt answer.

"Oh I see, but surely you have hope that the war might end?"

She misheard my 'war' for 'world', and nodded excitedly. "Yes! I have hope in the end of the world! Hopefully soon it all just blows up! 'BOOM!". Her hands imitated an apparently world-shattering explosion.

Well, what's life without a healthy dose of nihilism?


I never caught her name, she left without a word shortly after. I am not sure if she was sick of the hot water, or of the docility of her audience.


I bubbled away, happy boiling for a few more hours, digesting this latest encounter, and relishing in this sort of unspoken bond I'd formed with everyone else in the pool's captive audience. We basked in our newly discovered tranquility.


I do hope our Slavic acquaintance finds a bit of a filter, but especially some hope. Preferably not in an impending apocalypse though, that does sound rather gloomy...


Above: an orthodox Jew after a dip. A group of them sat and sang the most beautiful chants in one of the pools below us.

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