We drove back up the road to Ein Gedi, the Resort and Spa "town" on the Dead Sea, just inside Israeli territory. I put "town" in quotation marks because I never actually saw a town. We passed a resort and pulled into a parking lot adjacent to twined, single storey buildings, housing an ice cream and snack stand and public change rooms.
We changed into our swim shorts and headed down the concrete path to the calm waters of the Dead Sea. Having forgotten my flip-flops the soles of my feet burn as I quickly run down the path towards the lowest point on earth and what I hope for my feet's sake is a cool reprieve.
It's not much of a beach. In fact it's more like the shore of a lake somewhere in the Muskokas. No sand to speak of just grass and dirt up to a thin strip of rocks with calm waters lapping gently against their slippery sides. John warns us not to touch our eyes with our hands once they have the salt water on them.
We slide into the water and are quickly thrown up in an awkward motion that propels our torsos to the surface. I squirm around trying to get into a stable position. I'm on my back now and my feet are inches above the surface - I can't put them under the water if I tried. But as I adapt to my new surroundings the blaring sun of the Judean desert is making the sunscreen on my forehead sweat into my eyes. I can't see and it stings! I can't wipe it out of my eyes as I would without a problem if my hands weren't covered in salt water. Ahhh!
Patrick takes a couple of pictures of us floating in the Dead Sea. Every second is agony. Hurry up! say under my breath. He finishes and I quickly return to shore. Between the agonizing rawness of the bottoms of my feet with the corresponding walk of a hobbled man, and the difficulty in actually opening my eyes I am quite the site as I fumble my way to the shower. I'm squinting, walking on the sides of my feet and cursing the Dead Sea.
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Pictures:
Wadis surrounding the Dead Sea
The Dead Sea from the top of Masada
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