The further we go, the rougher the terrain becomes, jolting the car as we drive along a mountain track strewn with rocks.
And then we round a corner and there is a sleeping dog, a circle of chairs and two women smiling and beckoning us to follow them.
This is Fatima and her mother-in-law, Fadda. They live in a makeshift camp perched on a rocky ledge.
Behind their tent is a cave, in which there are chickens and a bed. In front of it is the path where we now stand, and then a precipice that looks down upon a ravine.
They invite us into a tent to talk. Sweet tea is brought out, and so is the story of how their home was demolished, their car stolen, their peace destroyed and why they now have to hide their flock of sheep.
But before all that, Fatima takes us out and points at a ridge behind their camp.
We can see a small black structure, just visible against the dark rock. “That is where they are,” she says. “The settlers come down from there.”
Every day, people come down to her home. Unwelcome visitors.
“We’d be baking bread, and they would come, lay out their mattresses and just sit there. When we told them to leave, they’d return with more settlers and an armed soldier.”
And the soldier, always, would be on the side of the settlers.
“At night we don’t sleep,” says Fadda, smiling through the pain.
“We stay awake waiting for the settlers. Four or five of them come in their cars each night, sometimes on motorcycles, right up to our doorstep to terrify the children.
“We sit through the night, afraid they’ll set fire to our homes and belongings, trying to force us to flee with our kids.”
We see videos, shared widely on social media, of Fadda confronting a young settler who has come to menace the family.
He stands right in front of her, staring her straight in the eyes, trying to push her forward. Fadda responds by standing her ground, smiling gently at him.
“This happens every single day,” says Fatima. “If we didn’t stand up for ourselves, we would have left long ago. The problem is, they’re children.
“They send the kids down on purpose to provoke us, to push us off our land. That’s why we’ve had to build this resilience.”
Their tale of suffering is desperate. They tell me the family used to live in a house, which was demolished by the Israel military.
An hour later we drive past its remains – a huge pile of twisted metal and rubble. Their car has been taken so they have to walk to distant shops under the baking sun.
Mobile phones have been stolen along with computers and animals. Their flock of sheep is now kept in another place, hidden from sight.
‘This is our land’
“The situation has become really bad,” says Fatima. “Not just for us, but for the whole West Bank.”
And yet the family is determined to stay. “This is our land,” say both women, almost in unison. The brutal truth is also that they have nowhere else to go.
The West Bank is dotted with Israeli settlements, from top to bottom, some large and long-established, with thousands of residents and a sprawling infrastructure; some small and very new, with just a few caravans parked on a hilltop.
All of them are based on the idea of extending the reach of the Israeli state by placing its people all over the West Bank, or at least turning a blind eye to them moving there.
The fact that these settlements are, by widespread consent, illegal under international law has not stopped them from proliferating. Quite the opposite.
Not only are they growing in number and size, but the Israeli government is lending them ever more support and legitimacy.
Read more:
Inside the conflict forcing Palestinians from their homes
West Bank: The city locked down by armed troops
Now, the far-right finance minister, Bezalel Smotrich, has declared that it’s time for Israel to annex more than 82% of the West Bank.
His logic can be summed up like this: we’re not safe with neighbours like this, and according to the Bible, it should be our land anyway.
Not everyone will agree, and perhaps most outside Israel will strongly disagree, but Smotrich is, as always, unapologetic and unabashed.
“Beyond our Biblical, historical and moral right to the entire land of Israel, the political and security role of sovereignty is to ensure that a Palestinian Arab terror state is never established in our land,” he said.
“Enemies should be fought, not provided with comfortable lives.”
Listen to The World with Richard Engel and Yalda Hakim every Wednesday
The West Bank has, for decades, been a crucible for ever-growing mistrust and dislike. It has seen waves of terrible violence and chronic divisions.
There is no sign of things improving, but plenty of suggestions that they are getting worse.
