The Columnist Manifesto

I'm in Jerusalem, and as dusk settles over the city, I can hear church bells and the keening song from the crier outside the mosque of the Old City.

My reservation at the Jerusalem YMCA on King David Street starts Christmas Day, but having tired of Eilat, the cheesy Red Sea resort where I'd holed up the past two days, I desperately wanted to get to Jerusalem a day early.

But the YMCA was booked. I was concerned that, as a Christian holy place with a world famous midnight mass, Jerusalem might be a tough city for last minute hotel reservations on Christmas Eve. I called half a dozen other hotels -- even the King David, Israel's premier hotel, where visiting heads of state, royalty and celebrities always stay. Fully booked.

On a hunch, I took a shot at booking a room at the King David through an Israeli travel website. Perhaps they have access to a block of rooms that the hotel won't book directly. Bingo.

The King David is elegance itself. And it's right across a narrow street from the YMCA... which means tomorrow, when I change hotels, I need only walk about 100 yards from one reception desk to the other. And as if all this weren't enough (dayainu!), when I checked in at the King David they informed me they were giving me a free room upgrade -- to a deluxe room with a view of the Old City. Hence the photo above, taken from my window.

My prayers answered in Jerusalem.