There is too much history in this vista to recount, including sites from the story of the Maccabees, but particularly memorable is Tamar's relation of the Talmud's poetic description of the olive oil and wine of this area as of the highest quality in the world; that Jews have returned here after 2,000 years and are now winning international awards for those very same products is remarkable.

Back inside, Tamar serves us tea and cake and tells us of other recent visitors to Eli, including the American politician  hopeful Mike Huckabee, the pollster Frank Luntz, and the television team of Louis Theroux. I recall a recent BBC programme of Theroux's, "The Ultra-Zionists", which featured some of the most uncompromising settlers who do live in tents and makeshift caravans and who barely recognise the authority of the state or, for that matter, the Yesha Council. Tamar says she and her neighbours spoke to Theroux's team for several hours but were not included in the programme, presumably because they were not "extreme" enough. A more damning indictment of the Western media I do not know.

After the living history in Tamar's backyard, our conversation about The King's Speech seems surreal. We say our goodbyes and drive through the neighbourhood on our way out. Naftali tells us of fathers and sons who fell bravely in battle, one commander famously having jumped on a grenade to save his fellows. We pass nearby a military academy. Around half of the officers in the IDF today are religious Zionists or residents of Yesha. It is difficult to imagine how such a military can be called upon to evacuate its own houses. Nevertheless, Israel is under palpable pressure. Naftali's role is to man the breach. Not one to despair, he recognises the challenges: "What do you do when the whole world is wrong?"