We’d be warned. Visiting the old city can be overwhelming. It can be an emotional experience. Don’t be surprised if you are moved to tears we’d read.

So we set foot inside the old city with a degree of apprehension. How would we feel? For me, it wasn’t until I was sitting having a drink with my favourite person after our day in the old city that it hit me. I’d been in a very special place.

I’d been to the Western Wall on one of the days when the boys celebrate their bar mitzvah (their coming of age). I’d seen men praying, I’d touched the wall and said my own prayer.

My favourite person wasn’t able to join me as men and women are segregated. She pushed her way to the wall and watched as mothers, sisters and other female relative and friends showered sweets over their young boys now men. I saw the young men as they prepared for the ceremony and then with the smiles on their faces along with their fathers and other male friends after the ceremony.

We’d stood in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where Jesus was nailed to the cross and where he had died. We’d seen where he was buried. We’d walked the same road he walked. As a person bought up in a Christian world, this was an incredible thing to have done.

I was amazed by the small area in which all of these events took place. All within a space of maybe 50 metres. I’d imagined the distances to be much greater.

The old city is bustling. It’s little streets. There are market stalls of all shapes and sizes. Sure today’s markets are different from those of two thousand years ago, but these streets have always had street sellers in them.

We stopped to buy some freshly made bread. It was hot and spicy. We visited one of the many spice stalls and lunched at a little hole in the wall in the Muslim quarter eating some of the best falafel we’d ever eaten (I know everyone says that but it was pretty good!).

We’d gazed upon Temple Mount, not venturing up to it. Security was tight but perhaps more significantly it was so hot. Still, I’d seen it with my own eyes.

We visited the Damascus gate so I can truly say I have started on the road to Damascus.

We stopped for coffee in the Jewish quarter and walked past the trashy souvenir stalls.

It was just amazing. The old city is bustling with both history and life itself.

I never thought I’d visit – I’m so glad I did.

For accommodation, we stayed at the YMCA Three Arches. An Art Deco period hotel, that also houses an international school. It’s not cheap but convenient to the old city. It has its own story and an awesome outdoor bar to sit and relax and reflect upon what you’ve experienced.

We relied heavily on Douglas Duckett’s very helpful guide to Israel. It is free but as Douglas suggests he welcomes a donation to the YMCA International School if you use it. We were happy to oblige.