Up north. That’s where you’ll find most Israelis at some point in August.

August. That dreaded month in Israel when a mother’s constant companions are the heat, her children, and her children’s boredom.

We too hied north for a few days, to that part of the country so thick with Galilean Oaks and medieval Crusader fortresses that it’s only the Hebrew lettering on the crushed Coke bottle on the side of the trail that reveals that you’re in Israel.

Ever since a part work, part birthday trip a few years ago, these forested mountains have been my very own paradise to which I ache to return whenever life gets too stressful. Still, enjoying paradise isn’t easy when kids come along, which is why the secret to any good trip is time with — and without — the kids.

So, we left the littles with the grandparents and stole the mornings for the long, winding hikes with views worth climbing for. And, I finally got to complete the hike which I started and stopped on that first overnight trip.

Then, I had been with a friend. We set out together on the wooded path down towards the fresh water springs and were quickly surrounded by hundreds of bleating goats. We had somehow ended up at the same place at the same time as a Bedouin shepherd and his herd. The goats particularly liked nibbling my friend’s blond hair, and after adorable selfies with baby goats, we extricated ourselves from the herd and continued along the marked forest path to the valley below.

After a few minutes of the type of silence that can only be found in the woods, we heard yelling, in Arabic. Men were screaming to or at one another. They weren’t close, but they weren’t far. We looked at each other, sharing a silent concern, and continued walking. It was 2016, at the height of the stabbing intifada where every day someone was stabbed, shot or rammed with a car by a terrorist.

The yelling got closer and my friend looked at me and said, honestly, “I’m not comfortable.” I understood her. When the news reports regularly on dead and wounded, when you aren’t sure who is friendly and who is not, it is hard to be comfortable. So, we turned around and found another beautiful place to explore.

When I told the friend who lives in the area and had recommended the hike to us that we had turned back, she laughed. “Shoshanna, this isn’t the Gush [the Etzion Bloc, an area subject to many attacks at that time]. Here, everybody gets along. People aren’t radical. You probably heard shepherds or farmers! I can’t believe you were scared.”

To her, it was laughable that we were afraid. For us, it was the unfortunate reality. But she was right. I know that now. In the Western Galilee, Druze, Christians, Muslims, and Jews live together with little to none of the tensions found in other parts of the country. In fact, visiting Druze and Christian towns in the area is a great way to experience what we often don’t get to see: the other cultures and people who happily call Israel their home. The harmony between the people adds to the bucolic scenery creating a reality that one could only wish to see spread through the rest of the country.

Since then, I kept that unfinished hike in my mind like a challenge I must complete. Though I tried to return often, it took over two years to get back. Last week, with my local friend and my father, I finished that hike down to the springs. And what a hike. The trail winds through the forest down a (often steep) trail that opens to views so stunning it stopped us in our tracks more than once. I’m fairly certain just taking pictures added over half an hour to our hike.

For days, we explored this incredible region that sits between the sea and the mountains, on the border of Lebanon, spread across valleys rich with fields and vineyards, dotted with Arab -Jewish co-founded boutique ice cream shops and restaurants staffed by people with special needs, marked with memorials to those who died for our freedom, no, our existence and where Hebrew, English and Arabic are heard as we all revel in the same stunning views.

A piece of paradise for more reasons than one, whose visions of beauty and feelings of serenity will bring me through those stressful moments... at least until school starts.