The Dead Sea is a hypersaline (super salty) lake filing the space between Israel, the West Bank, and Jordan. It’s a unique place and most visitors to this part of the world want to tick it off their bucket lists. The first time I went to Israel, I was no different. But what is different about my dip in the Dead Sea is that instead of going to a resort, I snuck in at a secret location.
It was the most surreal and beautiful thing I have ever seen.
DRIVING TO THE LOWEST PLACE ON EARTH
I was lucky to visit Israel for the first time with an Israeli friend I had met in a hostel in Madrid. He’s a digital nomad and hadn’t actually been in Israel for about three years. This minor detail became a somewhat bigger detail later on.
As we drove from Tel Aviv, the scenery outside my window became increasingly brown, sandy, and more desert-like. The Dead Sea is about 430 metres below sea level, which makes it the lowest place on earth. I did not resist the urge to serenade my friend with a hearty rendition of the Garth Brooks favourite “I got friends in lowwww places…” Signs along the road informed us of our increasing depth but I didn’t need them because my ears kept popping.
Noticing the fuel light was on, we coasted into a gas station. If we had run out of gas, it would have been fine – the gas station had camels for hire outside. My friend went in to pay and emerged with an armful of snacks. He tossed me an orange bag with Hebrew writing on it and simply said, “Eat this.”
That snack changed my life. It’s called bamba and it’s like Cheetos Puffs but instead of cheese, it’s peanut butter. Yes. YES. You are not dreaming. This is a real thing and it is amazing.
NO DEAD SEA FOR YOU
As we continued our drive through the desert, I saw the Dead Sea in the distance. It looked nice but not like anything remarkable at this point. As we kept driving, my friend started to look worried and said he couldn’t find the beach he used to go to (years ago). Finally we found it. Or what used to be it. Now it was behind a locked metal gate topped with razor wire. The sign in the distance said Mineral Beach but the one in front of my face was pretty clear: the Dead Sea is closed due to sinkholes.
I could see them on the other side of the gate. What used to be a family-friendly beach resort is now a pile of rubble spilling into gaping holes in the earth.
The Dead Sea is shrinking rapidly and this destabilizes the land along the shore. Several beach resorts have closed in recent years as the land becomes unsafe and the shoreline recedes further away from what used to be beachfront property. With water levels dropping over a metre every year, the Dead Sea is on track to dry up completely by 2050.
This is why I choose to travel now – so I can see the beautiful things in the world before they disappear.
We turn to leave, and I notice that the back of the sign says “Go in Peace” in English, Arabic, and Hebrew.
SEA-K AND YE SHALL FIND
We drove aimlessly along the lowest highway in the world, dismayed at the endless chain link fences and “Forbidden!!” signs. That is, until we pulled up beside a construction worker and asked his opinion. He said that if it was him, he would park the car over there, and then squeeze through such-and-such fence, and climb over some concrete blocks to see what might be on the other side.
We did exactly that and what we found on the other side blew my mind.
It was an abandoned public beach, complete with a deserted concession stand, boarded up bathrooms, and neglected playground equipment. Dead palm branches littered the parking lot and waist-high weeds had buckled the asphalt. The only sound was our footsteps and my constant gasps of “this is insane.”
Of course, because I am stupid live in the moment, I didn’t take any pictures of this. That’s okay for me, since this eerie experience is forever burned into my memory, but for you, some pictures would have been nice. I’m sorry.
We creep past the abandoned buildings and come to a small cliff, where we must take a ramshackle staircase down to the water. The metal railing is bent into bizarre shapes or missing altogether. There’s a boarded up lifeguard shack and I notice that someone has removed some of the siding and burned it in a fire pit. I wonder if that person is still here.
Then I look up and the scene before me is the most surreal and beautiful thing I have ever seen.
The sea is every shade of aqua and it reflects the sunset-tinged sky. The only sign of humanity is a lone green bottle, floating across the sea. In the distance, the mountains of Jordan glow pink. I wonder if the bottle will end up there.
Just when I think it can’t get any more amazing, the full moon rises. Mind. Blown.
I hobble barefoot across the salt-encrusted rocks and slither into the water. It feels so slippery on my skin. There no one else around and the only sounds are the ripples I make in the water. I can’t believe I have this magical place all to myself.
The Dead Sea is nearly 10 times more salty than the ocean – too salty for anything to live in it except miniscule amounts of bacteria and microbial fungi. I taste a drop of it on my tongue and it is so salty it’s bitter and my throat automatically tries to hack it up. The water is incredibly bouyant and even though I try to float on my back, it keeps turning me onto my stomach. I’m vaguely remembering something about fat floating and wondering if I perhaps have more fat on my back…side.
As the sun begins to set, I know how Cinderella felt as midnight approached. Sitting in the car on the way home, my skin grimy with salt, I wonder how I will ever top this experience. At least now I know about bamba – it’s a pretty close second.
