Rosh HaNikra Grottoes

Listen first. Beneath your feet, somewhere inside the rock, the sea is moving. It pulls back with a low hiss, then returns with a deep, hollow boom that you feel in your chest more than you hear. The air is cool and damp, and it tastes faintly of salt. Light comes in sideways from the water and turns the stone around you a soft, shifting turquoise. You are standing inside a white cliff on the very edge of the country.

This is Rosh HaNikra, at the northern tip of Israel's Mediterranean coast, a short drive north of Nahariya. The name is usually translated as the head of the grottoes. In Arabic, the same headland is known as Ras al-Naqoura. Just beyond this point lies the border with Lebanon. So this cliff is two things at once... a place shaped by the sea over countless years, and a line drawn by people in the twentieth century.

Start with the stone itself. The cliff is made of pale chalk and soft limestone, rock that formed from tiny marine shells on an ancient sea floor. Run your eye along the walls and you may see darker bands of harder flint running through the white. Chalk is soft. Flint is not. Over time, that difference decides where the sea can cut and where it cannot, and it gives the caves their uneven, ribbed shapes.

The grottoes were carved by waves. Water forced its way into cracks in the rock, and storms pushed sand and pebbles against the walls again and again. Slowly, the cracks widened into chambers. Rain played a part too, seeping down from above and dissolving the stone from inside. What you walk through today is the result of a very long partnership between fresh water from the hills and salt water from the sea.

Here is something many visitors do not realise. The caves you see were not originally connected for people. In their natural state, many of them could only be reached from the water. The walkways and short tunnels that link them were cut later, so that visitors could move safely from one chamber to the next. As you walk, notice where the rock looks smoother and more regular. Those are the human additions, set inside a natural maze.

Getting down here is part of the story. A cable car carries visitors from the clifftop to the grottoes, and the descent is steep. For a few moments the white face of the cliff slides past the window, and the sea opens up below you. On a clear day, look south from the cabin. The coastline curves away towards Nahariya and, further on, towards the bay of Haifa.

This headland has always been a barrier. The cliffs drop straight into the sea, leaving almost no beach to walk along. In ancient times, travellers moving along the coast between the cities of Phoenicia, the old trading civilisation of the Lebanese coast, and the lands to the south had to climb over or around it. The passage was known as the Ladder of Tyre, after the great port city to the north. Several later traditions claim that famous armies cut their way through here, but those tales are best treated as legend.

Now for the first surprise. Near the grottoes you can step into a railway tunnel. During the Second World War, British forces built a coastal railway to link Haifa with Beirut and beyond, and part of the line ran straight through this cliff. Soldiers and engineers from across the British Empire worked on it. For a short period, trains ran along the shore here, carrying supplies for the war effort between Egypt and the north.

The second surprise is how short that railway's life was. During the war of 1948, the bridge leading to the tunnel was blown up, so that the route could not be used for an advance from the north. The line was never reopened. Today the tunnel is sealed at the border, and the old track bed simply stops. Standing inside, you are in a passage that was built to connect two countries and now marks the place where they divide.

Above you, on the clifftop, you can see the border crossing area. Over the decades this point has been used for meetings and exchanges between the two sides, often with United Nations involvement. You may notice fences, watchtowers, and military vehicles. They are a reminder that this coastline is still sensitive. Access to the site has sometimes been restricted during periods of tension, so conditions here can change.

Look back out to sea. Just offshore lie a few small, low islands. Together with the waters around the cliff, they are part of a protected nature area. The rocks and shallow pools support sea life, and seabirds rest on the islands away from people. From the grottoes you may also spot fish moving in the clear water. When the sea is calm, the colour shifts from deep blue to a bright, glassy green.

Pause for a moment in one of the larger chambers. Watch the water rise and fall through the openings in the rock. Each wave enters with force and leaves with a rush of foam. The sound bounces off the curved walls and seems to come from every direction. On rough days, spray can reach the walkways, and the whole cave seems to breathe with the rhythm of the sea.

As you leave, turn around once more. The white cliff, the dark openings at its base, the line of the old railway, the fences on the ridge above... all of it sits in a single view. The sea is still at work on the rock, slowly, as it has been for ages. Take a last breath of the salt air, and listen for that deep boom as you walk back into the light.