Nothing is as it was. Time has watched men hollow out the rocks for endless processions round this empty site. But here I feel a grief that must remain as a perpetual sign for all who behold the Man. Beside me a tiny lady from Peru prays to alleviate the suffering of His Mother. Later she tells me prayer is bigger than time.
Life is bigger than death.
So the Greeks have put a small sign in satin and gold thread, He is not here. He is risen. I walk out into the light. No, I tell a Muslim boy, I don't want postcards. I put on my Rotterdam football cap and pass for Dutch as I walk to the Cardo.