Before sunrise this morning, my thoroughly dysfunctional body clock announced it was time for someone, somewhere in the world, to get up. You can imagine my surprise when I figured out it meant me.

It was early enough that the hotel restaurant hadn’t opened — just coffee in the lobby for insomniacs and jet lag addled tourists. Short on options, and long on time (my day wasn’t scheduled to start until 7:30), I put on my coat, and went for a walk.

Jerusalem is a city for walking. The weaving of the streets make Boston seem organized, and buildings built before Mr. Otis figured out the elevator (or Sir Thomas Crapper figured out indoor plumbing –that’s true, I swear) are of a pretty human scale. It’s a pretty short walk from here to the Built Before Year Zero walls of the old city of Jerusalem.

There are a lot of politics with this, and I’m not going to address any of them here (except to declare unequivocally, like every other person in the Middle East, that I am right, and everybody else is wrong). But the walk from here to the old city is probably something my great grandparents dreamed about doing, and I can do for the price of lacing up my sneakers.

Contrary to some opinion, I think this is probably the safest city on the world. It is the cradle of most of the world’s religions (my apologies to Buddha and The Beatles), and everyone has a stake. The Jerusalem Standoff: I won’t blow up your house, because it’s right next to mine. So while I wouldn’t go out walking in any other major city before the sun comes up (in part because I wouldn’t be, either), I don’t think twice about doing it here.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxthis is the part I haven’t written down yet.

This is getting longer than I planned, and my eyes are blurry. I’m sure there’s some sense here, somewhere, and I’ll try to get to it….tomorrow.