The cleaning staff at the Tabgha Pilgrim House started noticing something strange this summer when they would come to tidy the rooms: The little wooden crosses hung over the beds would often be missing. Usually, after a quick search, they would turn up in the night table drawers, but occasionally in less likely hiding places. In at least one case, the famous Christian emblem was found stashed away in the minibar.
It didn’t take long for management at this historic guesthouse, located on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, to figure out what was going on. The crosses had started disappearing just when Tabgha reopened for business several months ago. It coincided with the appearance of a brand-new sort of guest on the premises: not religious Christians from abroad, but local Jewish Israelis.
“We were fine with crosses being removed in the bedrooms, but when some of the Israelis asked that we remove the crosses in the main dining hall and other public spaces, that’s where we drew the line,” says general manager Georg Rowekamp.
A room at the Tabgha Pilgrim House in the Galilee. Some Israeli guests remove the cross from the wall and put it in the drawer. Or the minibar.
Rami Shllush
A short walk to church
Before the coronavirus outbreak, hundreds of thousands of Christian tourists would visit the Holy Land every year on organized pilgrimages. The pandemic brought all that to an abrupt end, and although Israel is set to loosen restrictions on incoming tourism, industry experts predict it will take years for the local Christian hospitality business to regain pre-COVID levels.
Up until early 2020, the 72 rooms at this Catholic pilgrim house were booked at least a year in advance. Since Israelis don’t usually plan that far ahead, says Rowekamp, had they tried to make a reservation, they probably would have been told there were no vacancies. Before the pandemic, about 90 percent of the guests at Tabgha were Europeans (mainly Germans and Austrians).
Since it reopened this summer, about 90 percent have been Israelis, the rest mainly diplomats stationed in the country.
Situated a short walk away from the Church of the Loaves and Fishes, Tabgha is one of dozens of guesthouses in the Holy Land that cater to Christian pilgrims, some for more than a century. Most are conveniently situated in the Old City of Jerusalem, Nazareth, the Sea of Galilee and in the West Bank city of Bethlehem – in close proximity to famous Christian churches and sites. Several have become upscale over the years – among them, the Notre Dame of Jerusalem Center and the Scots Hotel in Tiberias – but most are pretty spartan and, under other circumstances, might not have appealed to well-traveled Israelis accustomed to a certain level of amenities and service.
At the Church of the Loaves and Fishes, Tabgha
Croberto68
But as Orna Raz, one of the early Jewish discoverers of Tabgha, likes to point out, amenities and service aren’t everything. “The Christians definitely have a knack for finding the most stunning locations in the country for their guesthouses,” says Raz, a retired college lecturer from the central Israeli city of Ramat Gan.
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Almost all of them have been shuttered, however, since March 2020, when Israel began barring tourists from entering the country over COVID-19 fears.
Rowekamp explains why he, like a handful of others in the Christian hospitality sector, decided to reopen after the most recent lockdown.
“There is nothing more expensive than an empty house,” he says.
Given the headache of overseas travel during the pandemic,
Rowekamp says he hoped to appeal to the sort of Israelis open to experiencing something new and different at home – who might be willing to forgo 24-hour-a-day room service in exchange for the type of genuine escape accommodations like his can offer.
Father Eamon Kelly, vice director of the Magdala on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.
Rami Shllush
His first “experiment,” as he describes it, did not work out well.
During the summer of 2020, when the economy opened briefly after the first lockdown, Rowekamp reached out to some agents he knew to see if they could help him fill his empty rooms with Israeli guests.
“But the guests that arrived were not prepared for this sort of place, and we were not prepared for them,” he says politely.
When asked to elaborate, the general manager explains: “They were looking for an inexpensive place to vacation and didn’t understand that this wasn’t an ordinary hotel.”
After that experience, Rowekamp resolved to avoid advertising through the usual outlets, and instead rely on business through word of mouth. It paid off.
“In recent months, we’ve been getting exactly the type of guests we’re after: Israelis who know how to appreciate the special character of this place,” he says.
Garden of the Austrian Hospice
Emil Salman
The Austrian Hospice in Jerusalem’s Old City
Emil Salman
Just the basics
The original basalt building that still houses many of the guestrooms at Tabgha was built in 1898. As is typical of such accommodations, the amenities are very basic. There are no televisions, no swimming pools, and most of the rooms contain two single beds that are separated – not exactly conducive to a romantic getaway.
Booking a reservation can prove challenging as well. In the past, most of these pilgrim houses, including Taghba, could rely on agents abroad for bookings and never had to bother setting up online reservation systems. Nor are telephone reservations always possible, which means that in most cases, the only way to book a room at these pilgrim houses is by email. Even then, it can take several days to receive a response.
But it would be a mistake to assume they are cheap just because they are not up-to-date with the latest hospitality trends. While pilgrim houses tend to be less expensive than hotels, which are notoriously pricey in Israel, considering the lack of amenities the savings aren’t all that significant. The charge per room for Israeli guests can range anywhere from 700 to 1,200 shekels a night ($220 to $375), though this often includes half or full board, with guests having no choice in the matter.
The cheapest option, among those guesthouses currently operating, is probably the Austrian Hospice in Jerusalem’s Old City, where the going rate for a double room with breakfast is 500 shekels ($155).
Don’t expect to have air-conditioning in the room at that price, though.
Some Israelis are evidently willing to pay these prices, however, for the special benefits such accommodations typically offer: the spectacular scenery, stunning architecture, historic buildings, lush gardens, and the rare opportunity to hang out with nuns, priests and monks (some of whom prepare their own liqueurs and are happy to share their secrets with the guests).
Michal Rafaeli-Kaduri and her partner Dubi spent three nights at the Tabgha guesthouse last month, after hearing about it from a friend who could not stop raving about the experience. “I’m always looking for new undiscovered places here in my own country, and this sounded perfect,” says Rafaeli-Kaduri, who recently retired from a senior executive position at one of Israel’s large broadcasting companies.
She wasn’t disappointed. “The accommodations are pretty basic, but it didn’t matter,” she says. “The place is magical. In fact, I tried to reserve a room already for next year, but they told me it was still too early.”
The cross over the bed hardly bothered her. “I covered it with my hat,” she discloses with a laugh.
The Christ Church cafe in Jerusalem’s Old City.
Emil Salman
Raz, who has already been back to Tabgha five times since discovering the place, points out its other major draw.
“When you’re there, you feel as though you’re out of the country,” she says.
Christ Church Guest House appeals in Hebrew
The Christ Church Guest House, which belongs to the Anglican Church, is located in the Old City of Jerusalem, just inside Jaffa Gate, across from the Tower of David. The actual church, with its neo-gothic facade and interiors reminiscent of a synagogue, is located in the same complex. Built in 1849, it serves as the main local congregation for Anglican Christians and Messianic Jews.
Until the coronavirus outbreak, the 32-room guesthouse catered almost exclusively to pilgrims, mainly of the Protestant denomination. In recent months, however, growing numbers of Israelis have come to spend the night.
“During the first lockdown, we were under the misguided perception that this would all end in a few months,” says Scott Morgan, the American-born reservations manager. When a strategic decision was eventually taken to start marketing the place to Israelis, he says, the guesthouse was caught somewhat unprepared. “All our online promotional material was geared to internationals,” Morgan says. “We had nothing in Hebrew.”
Over the summer, the Christ Church Guest House set up a Facebook page in Hebrew and is currently putting the finishing touches on its Hebrew-language website, which will enable online reservations.
Places that for years were off the Israeli tourist’s path, are becoming the new favorites
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Since June, it has hosted quite a few large groups of Israelis participating in organized tours, along with individual travelers and families.
“Because we don’t offer kosher food, that limits us to mainly secular Jews,” Morgan notes.
There are no crosses on display in this guesthouse. But a copy of the New Testament, its pages wide open, can be found in each room on prominent display – not something Israelis are accustomed to seeing at other hotels in their country.
Dafna Dressler, who lives in a small community in northern Israel and describes herself as a “proud Jew,” recently spent a few days at the guesthouse while participating in an organized tour of Jerusalem. “I studied history and geography, so these outward displays of Christianity aren’t something that frighten me,” she says.
Not used to Jewish visitors
Rami Shllush
“In fact, I even connect to it in a certain way. The fact that I once sang in a choir and am very familiar with church music could have something to do with it.”
Asked to explain what made her experience at the guesthouse “fabulous,” as she describes it, Dressler says: “Suddenly, in the midst of the hustle-bustle of the Old City, you walk into this calm and peaceful garden where everyone around you is speaking English and so nice. I really felt as if I were out of the country, in a completely different place.”
Suddenly, hopping business
Smack in the heart of the Muslim Quarter is another Christian guesthouse suddenly getting lots of Jewish visitors, though most of the Israelis arriving at the doors of the Austrian Hospice are not yet ready to spend the night. The location, explains manager Lucas Maier, scares them a bit.
So, while the 45-room guesthouse, situated right on the famous Via Dolorosa, is still mostly vacant these days, its Viennese cafe, known for its apple strudel, is hopping.
This past spring, when the country reopened, “loads of Israelis would come through here,” Maier reports. “They would tell us that since it still wasn’t safe to travel, this was the closest they could get to Europe without hopping on a plane.”
Father Jonas on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. His job at the Tabgha Pilgrim House is spiritual director.
Rami Shllush
Most of the guesthouse staff are volunteers from abroad, many of them young Austrians fulfilling their national service requirement.
Just being able to converse with these Europeans “has been a real treat for the Israelis coming through, many of whom haven’t been abroad in quite a while,” says Maier.
Location is also a problem for Paulus Haus, a pilgrim house located directly opposite Damascus Gate, a frequent flash point for violence in the Holy City. Like the Tabgha guesthouse, it is owned and operated by the German Association of the Holy Land. Built at the turn of the 20th century, Paulus Haus boasts an archaeological museum in the basement, a collection of furniture donated by Kaiser Wilhelm II on the second floor, and a rooftop terrace boasting stunning views of the Old City and the Mount of Olives. Since March 2020, the 35 guestrooms have been out of commission.
Ralf Rothenbusch, the recently installed director, has been thinking it might be time to introduce Israelis to this largely undiscovered gem.
“We can’t provide luxury, but we can offer a historic place with a very special atmosphere – especially if they take an interest in Christianity,” he says.
The Magdala guesthouse, on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, opened in November 2019. With a large church on the grounds and a chapel in the lobby, it had hoped to attract more affluent Christian pilgrims and, toward that end, even had a swimming pool installed on the grounds. Within a matter of months, however, tourism came to a complete halt and there were no pilgrims to fill its 143 rooms.
The costs of maintaining such a large facility are exorbitant, so rather than keep it shuttered, management decided this summer to focus marketing efforts on local tourists.
Owned by the Congregation of Legionaries of Christ, a Roman Catholic clerical order, the Magdala guesthouse was originally slated to open about 10 years ago. But when the foundations were being dug, the well-preserved remnants of a first-century synagogue were discovered.
‘I’m always looking for new undiscovered places here in my own country’
Rami Shllush
Where’s the sausage
Having this archaeological treasure on the premises, while totally unplanned, has certainly helped draw Jewish visitors who might not otherwise have considered staying at a Christian guesthouse, says Father Eamon Kelly, the vice director.
“Many of them have never seen anything like our synagogue,” he says in a strong Irish accent.
With a twinkle in his eyes, Kelly adds: “Now I bet you never heard a priest use the words ‘our synagogue.'”
The food served at Magdala is not kosher certified, but out of respect for the new Jewish guests staying over, management has begun to offer what Kelly describes as “kosher-lite” food. In other words, neither pork or shellfish are served in the dining room.
At nearby Tabgha, a similar experiment was tried but, as Rowekamp reveals, it mostly backfired. “We had decided that since most of our current guests are Jewish, we wouldn’t be serving sausages at breakfast,” he says. “But then they’d come to us after breakfast and say, ‘Hey, how can you call this a German guesthouse and not be serving sausages?'”
A few weeks ago, the Tabgha guesthouse hosted an event, the likes of which had never been seen on its premises: a bar mitzvah. “We had a family from a nearby kibbutz approach us,” Rowekamp recounts. “They wanted to do a bar mitzvah for their son, but he was against any sort of religious ceremony. So the compromise they reached was that they would hold the celebration here, on the grounds of our Christian pilgrim house.”
Any plans for a Jewish wedding? Rowekamp doesn’t rule anything out at this point.
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