The Olive Press


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The Second Cup

It was one of those places where it’s possible to step across a threshold, and suddenly be transported back in time.  (Two thousand years in this case)

In the Nazareth Village, located within the modern city of Nazareth, you can see carpenters, and other craftsmen and shepherds and merchants, going about their business as they would have done when Jesus was a boy. 

And at the far end of the village . . . was the olive press.

One of the villagers, dressed in period costume, explained the process necessary to produce olive oil.

First, the ripe olives are poured into a stone bowl shaped structure, about the size of a large dining room table.  A large stone wheel stands upright within the bowl.  This wheel is attached to a pole, which is attached to a donkey.  As the donkey is led around and around, the wheel turns, completely crushing…

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Roz and the Olive Oil Factory


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Roz Flies Off

I’m turning into one of those people who say things like – ‘oh, you’ve never tasted a mango until you’ve had one fresh from the tree’, or ‘you’ve never had a orange until you’ve picked it yourself’, or ‘you’ve never tasted a potato until you’ve pulled it directly from the ground and shoved it into your face, dirt and all.’ I’ve never liked those people, partly because it sounds pretentious, like they’re shoving their life experiences down your throat as if to say ‘look at me. Look. I’m interesting and exotic and well-travelled, pay attention while I speak of my life’, but mostly because I never got the chance to experience these things for myself and I was a bit jealous. But now I have I’m turning into one of them, I’m getting these life experiences and I have my own blog with which to shove them down other people’s…

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