Hitting the road early after some pastry and coffee reenforcement, Shirley, her friend Noa and myself were off to the Dead Sea. This lifeless body of water rests well below sea level, at the lowest point on dry land. Stretching out in the desert area between Israel and Jordan, the salt levels in the sea are so high that no life can be sustained, hence the very appropriate name. But just because fish can’t swim here doesn’t mean humans stay away. The Dead Sea is one of Israel and Jordan’s most popular attractions.
About two hours from Tel Aviv, we made our way southeast across Israel. Since the country occupies a space smaller than the state of New Jersey, most sights lie easily within a day’s drive. First, we drive the Jerusalem. Before getting in the car, Shirley had warned me that we had to drive through (or rather right next to) the West Bank, though she assured me we’d be very safe. Upon passing through Jerusalem, I understood why: A large stone wall barricades the area, barbed wire winding along the top. An approximately 6-foot wide sand strip runs next to this wall, and Israeli security frequently patrols the strip, searching for footprints. If any are found, a chain of crisis security measures are immediately put in place. Pretty impressive.
Once past Jerusalem, the horizon devolves into wide open spaces of sand. This is the desert, sustaining little life for miles save small and infrequent Bedouin communities, making a meager living and offering camel rides to tourists driving by. Shirl then told me there is an entire division of the military devoted to tracking down lost camels, as camel-vehicle collisions are a real problem in the area. Camel crashes? Toto, I don’t think we’re in New York City anymore …
The roller coaster sand dunes changed to jagged canyons about and hour later, with another set of high cliffs sitting on the distant horizon in Jordan, Israel’s rather friendly Arab neighbor. Soon, the milky blue waters of the Dead Sea rose into view. Their opacity reminded me of those I saw in Iceland a few years back, and for good reason: the high mineral content of both waters lends the cloudy color.
When we got out of the car at the beach at Ein Bokek, I nearly lost my breath. The temperature had soared to a balmy 40 degrees Celsius (104 degrees F). A dry heat, it was nonetheless oppressive, rising to 43 C (109 F) within an hour. With water, water everywhere, you’d expect a splashy retreat from the heat. Not when the water’s full of minerals and bubbling hot sulfur Springs! Staring across teh sea at Jordan, I gingerly tiptoed in for my first salty swim. Well, not really swim. More like float. The huge concentration of salt and minerals means bodies just rise to the surface, and I had a grand old time posing for the camera flailing my legs and arms above the water. Look ma! No hands! As warm as a freshly drawn bath, the water feels oily to the touch, and makes you instantaneously aware of any cuts or scrapes known or unknown, rubbing salt in every wound. At the risk of to much information, you even feel the salt’s presence “down there.” Floaters must be aware of two major dangers: 1) You can actually drown if you roll onto your stomach and are too weak to stand up, and 2) The salt and the heat leach water from your body, threatening dehydration. For this reason, we only spent about 15 minutes in the water before drying off. I had already burned the soles of my feet (I searingly experienced why water should stay far away from eyes and contacts and couldn’t find my flipflops) and experienced the faint inducing desert heat, so we packed up and drove off to Ein Gedi spa.
The first resort on the Dead Sea, Ein Gedi originally lay at the yellow and blue shoreline. However, rapid evaporation — the sea is actually two bodies of water because of such, one of which is predicted to dry up in my lifetime — has left the resort perched on dry land about a ten minute walk from the waters. The resort features a refreshing pool area, sulfur springs and a huge mud pit, all of which we took advantage of. A paltry $18 entrance bought one of the most relaxing afternoons on the trip. After sitting poolside to cool off, we got down ‘n dirty with the mud, known for its therapeutic properties, especially in treating skin disorders. Slathering the thick, black wet clay all over yourself is not only good for your body; it’s great play for your mind. Of course, we go silly with the mushy muck and posed for some of the best pics of the trip.
Shirley and I decided to dunk in the sulfur pools before heading home. Growing up with Florida vacations, I am already intimately acquainted with that foul sulfur smell. For those of you that have never had the pleasure of sulfur wafting into your nostrils, it smells like farts. Or rotten eggs. Or farts caused by eating rotten eggs. It’s nasty. And here I was, about to willing dip my entire body (and nice black bikini) into a vat of hot farts. Ah, the things we do for beauty. My bikini still smells four days later.
Fart-smell free and incredibly refreshed, we headed back to Tel Aviv, where, tired for the long day in the unbearable heat, we grabbed a quick dinner of stuffed veggies and couscous and called it a night.
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| [08.06.22] Dead Sea |
