Earlier today, we were saved by a bad cup of coffee. Really bad. It was weak when I like it strong, it was milky and insipid-looking and it had no personality. What’s worse is that it was made without love. I could taste the lack. And yet it was that which distanced us from being at the scene of a brutal stabbing.

We arrived in Israel on vacation yesterday. We had made the decision to be vigilant without being paranoid and to make sure that our children were aware of the situation without it playing a dominant role for the period that we visit the country. Yesterday, we were successful; today we were not.

We spent a wonderful morning at Mamilla. We had been out for a superb breakfast where sat outside in the glorious Jerusalem winter sun and relished the moment of simply being in the city that is the centre of the Jewish world. We had taken advantage of the sales and the “2 for 1″ specials that I never seem to understand and that always cost me more and not less. And then, with kids starting to tire, we decided to walk into the Old City through the Jewish Quarter and down to the Kotel. It was undoubtedly going to be a poor parenting decision when they were already fatigued, and was another example of the triumph of optimism over experience. There were going to be complaints of sore feet but we would deal with that.

We were on our way towards the end of the Mall, where one climbs the steps to the Yafo Gate when I remembered that I needed a coffee. It had after all been around an hour or so I was well overdue. The last coffee place of the mall seemed as good a place as any and my wife ran inside to order whilst I stayed outside with the family. She came out irritated at the poor service, which was only rivalled by the poor coffee and we laughed about it as we quickly drank up ahead of our walk.... Read More: Times of Israel Blog