On Easter Monday, along with a group of more than thirty other people of various nationalities, I walked from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Unlike Cleopas and the other disciple on the original occasion, however, we got the bus back to Jerusalem.
I say that we walked to Emmaus; but perhaps I should say we walked to an Emmaus. Because there are no less than three places claiming to be the original Emmaus. This one, however, is the furthest away - about 30km - so at least we couldn't be accusing of skimping it. It's called Emmaus Nicopolis, and is under the care of the Community of the Beatitudes.
Quite apart from the Biblical significance of the walk (see Luke 24:13-35), much of it was through beautiful and rugged countryside. (The following photos only show the group from behind, because I was appointed as the rearguard, or 'back traffic' as Student Crossers would say.)
Just like Jesus broke bread with the disciples in Emmaus, so when we had finally arrived there we celebrated the Eucharist, along with many other people who hadn't walked but still wanted to remember that important Resurrection appearance nearly two thousand years ago. And then, as previously noted, we went back to Jerusalem by bus.
Looking back to the beginning of the walk, I ought to mention that as we came out from the Jaffa Gate we met a man who asked where we were going. When I told him that we were walking to Emmaus and that it was about 30km, he spontaneously decided to join us, just as he was. And he did in fact walk the whole way, in his suit and shoes. It was only the next day that it occurred to me that he might have been Jesus, just casually tagging along with his disciples.