Day One - the Dead Sea

After an exhausting, hot, sweaty day at Masada, it was all downhill - to the Dead Sea. Masada is on the edge of the Dead Sea, so we'd already done 99% of our descent to get to Masada.

We wound down and down and down to get to the Sea - it's about 1400 feet below sea level. As we passed the elevation markers (somehow we missed the "0 meters" mark both coming and going), I began getting a series of text messages.

Welcome to Jordan. Stay connected to Vodafone customer service by dialing ....

What the hell???

Ah, right. Everything's close together here. That's Jordan right up ahead.


My phone cheerfully told me I was using Israel's Orange network - and then 20 seconds later, I received another text message.

Sending SMS from Jordan on Orange costs ....

These guys can't even leave the cell waves harrassment free.

We'd picked up a hitchhiker at Masada, an extremely unfortunate Spanish grad student who'd missed the afternoon bus and had been standing in the blazing sun for an hour before we came along and picked him up. Introductions all around, then on the way to his hotel I had a brainwave.

"Hey David, what's the Castellano word for socks?"

"Calcetines." Weirdo.

Ah hah! Outstanding linguistic mystery solved by fortuitously-met hitchhiker!

As we got closer to the Sea itself, I was struck by the physical similarity to the Arctic. Check out these salt bergs! Not my photo, unfortunately; I missed my op when the light left.


And yes, everything you've heard about the Dead Sea is true. You're way more buoyant, you can read a newspaper, and Russians wear teeny-weeny swimsuits. The water is fantastic for the skin - I've never had such silky skin. The bottom of the Sea is pure salt, not sand - perfect for impromptu pedicures. What you may not have heard is that the Dead Sea stinks a bit (the stretch of road next to the Meridian hotel is appalling) and the water has a very odd oily texture.

And it burns! As we first stepped into the water, our hostess was chuckling about the reaction people have when the water first gets on their cuts. She delivered her coup de grace with, "And people with diarrhea! Forget it!! The looks on their faces!!!"

Ahem. One of the joys of being an ex-pat is knowing that everyone around you is familiar with the state of your bowels.

Let me just say, she was not joking. Seriously. Do NOT attempt.