I lived in Jerusalem for four years in a flat with a fine view of the Mount of Olives, which will supposedly split apart on Judgement Day and the dead in the vast cemetery on its slopes will rise again.
I found parts of the city like the Dome of the Rock exquisitely beautiful but overall it was a city filled with hatred.
One day a nurse was knifed to death at the bottom of Elisha Street where I was living. Several times there were bombs on buses or in markets on Jaffa Road, which lay a couple of hundred yards in the other direction.
The violence ebbed and flowed, never as great as many other cities in the Middle East, but never entirely absent.