Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)]. Feb 1. Dearest Mother. I arrived yesterday morning and rushed to the Consulate to get my letters. Yours of the 10th and the 15th were there - the chief news in them being about Hugo. I am so sorry he is not well - it is a great bore for him, poor dear. But he and Elsa are probably having a delightful time at San Moritz [St. Moritz]. You do not tell me the result of the BB meeting. I quite share your anxiety about Uncle Charlie. I did not talk to you about it before I left, but it was in the bottom of all our minds I am sure. I do hope things will go well, but I have small confidence. I had a ride full of vicissitudes from Haifa. The first day was extremely and unavoidably long, 31 miles which is more than one can comfortably take one's animals. Moreover the road lay all across the Plain of Esdraelon (which is without doubt the widest plain in the world) and the mud was incredible. We waded sometimes for an hour at a time knee deep in clinging mud, the mules fell down, the donkeys almost disappeared ("By God!" said one of my muleteers "you could see nothing but his ears") and the horses grew wearier and wearier. I came off lightly, however, for I heard of a party of 10 travellers who were at that moment spending a week at Tiberias because the road was impassable with mud. I got in to camp after dark, at a place called Jenin, it was, feeling very tired and headachy and wondering why. Next day I was worse and by the time I had ridden for an hour I realized that I had a sharp attack of Acre ['Akko] fever, a thing I invariably catch there. It was extremely disagreeable, but I rode on for 6 hours through the most beautiful country - not that I paid much attention to it! - till I got to Samaria and there I determined I could go no further. The mules and baggage had gone by another road straight to Nablus [Shekhem] and I had only my cook with me. At the entrance of the town is a great ruined Crusader Church, one corner of which has been built up into a mosque. A single bay of the aisle is converted into a room and hard by in a sort of lean to there lived the Imam of the mosque. He hurried out and said he could put me up in the aisle room for the night; there was a bed of sorts in it and a few quilts, more or less clean and there I dropped down and went to sleep. I wish you could have seen the Imam my nurse. He was dressed in a long blue robe and had a white turban round his tarbush. He bustled about softly in his ragged socks and made me tea and filled a bottle with hot water to make me warm and finally left me to an uneasy repose. However next day I was almost well. I got up about noon and went out to see the town which has had great days, and after lunch rode cheerfully in to Nablus which is Shechem. It was bitterly cold and there was a mighty keen wind blowing so I decided not to camp and put up at the Latin monastery, which was inhabited by two Syrian monks. I went out to see the English doctor and his wife (there is a CMS hospital) who gave me tea, and dined sociably with the 2 monks, conversing in Arabic the while. On Sunday 30 I started off about 8 - and walked into the town, which is supposed to be the most fanatical moslim town in all Syria. There are the remains of a beautiful Crusader church in it. Then I went to the top of Mount Gerizim where the Samaritans hold their Passover - such a view from it too - and then rode on to Jacob's Well which is the scene of the interview with the woman of Samaria. The Greeks have built a wall round it and made a little garden in which narcissus were flowering; bits of carved mouldings and capitals lay about between the flowers, all that is left of a medieval church, and the olives were growing up between the stones. It was very peaceful and charming - the most impressive, I think, of all the sacred sites in Palestine. The rocky slopes of Gerizim shouldered up behind the garden - one could almost picture the scene: "Our fathers have worshipped in this mountain" and then the answer that there was neither rock nor mountain where God should be worshipped, but the whole world was his temple - such an answer as an oriental mystic would give today. The road lay all down Samaria, over hills and rocky valleys and through olive groves - one found oneself following in imagination that dreamer who was to give new life to the ethics of half the world. I got into camp late and had a coldish night; there was ice everywhere when I got up next day. Then 2 hours ride into Jerusalem. In the afternoon I paid some calls and had a long call from Mr Dickson the Consul. He told me that Mark Sykes and his wife were here so as soon as he was gone I went off to see them and found them half encamped and half in a Syrian house. They received me with open arms, kept me to dinner and we spent the merriest of evenings. They are perfectly charming - she is a Gorst you know. He is going up over much the same route that I intend to take - she is not going with him. He has an immense camp and what he must spend over it I tremble to think. He told me with pride that he had bought 8 mules, 4 donkeys and 4 horses for £360. Now the very outside price of the best mules is £20 by which reckoning he must have spent £200 on 4 horses and 4 donkeys. You will realize how preposterous that is when I tell you that no travelling horse ought to cost more than about £18. However, he is pleased, and I make no doubt his dragoman is pleased too. (Don't repeat all this - it's not my business!) Both he and his wife are darlings and he is most amusing - she is the more intelligent of the two I should think. The main point now is to arrange my journey so as not to fall in with him, bless him, for if I know the East, prices will double all along his route. I shall try to go on ahead.
I've sent away my cook. He was a good honest man, but not strong enough or enterprizing enough. I must go and look for another - an important matter.

I've got a dog, an extremely nice dog of the country. He sleeps in my tent and he is perfectly charming. He is yellow. His name is Kurt which is Turkish for wolf.

Thank you so much for your letters. You are quite wrong in thinking that the small matters of the house are uninteresting when one is away. On the contrary distance magnifies them and I feel that I could take the wildest interest - in Mrs Brunner, say.

I am very glad to hear that the Dixons are going to have Red Barns. Ever your affectionate daughter Gertrude