When I was crisscrossing (at that time it was still easy) between Israel the West Bank in 1997, I still felt, despite Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin’s assassination by an extremist settler two years before, a palpable hope of an eventual sucessful Israeli–Palestinian peace process. I visited Jericho and Bethlehem and in both cities I felt such a strong sense of place. Especially in  Jericho, the oldest city in the world. I loved the combination of great history and great food, especially kebap from the deliciously fatty Awassi sheep and Musakhan, a heady combo of caramelised onions, perfectly roasted chicken, olive oil and sumac, eaten on a on flatbread. Not to forget humus, of course. On a later visit, a cool graffiti on the monstrous Israeli West Bank barrier near Bethlehem read: “Make Humus, not walls“. Humus was still great, but earlier hopes had vanished and the only realistic hope would have been a new graffiti „Make more Humus, not wars“.