The Drive Across Israel

 I’m generally fearful of riding with my dad in my own country; he’s kind of an erratic driver. Not only is he accidentally erratic, he’s also got a surprisingly poor sense of direction altogether. So I was definitely uneasy about my job as co-pilot for today’s trip across a foreign land. We woke up and got a taxi from Rehovot BACK to Tel Aviv to pick up a rental car. The car was a little silver Honda.

Today we would be driving across Jerusalem, into the West Bank, down along the coast of the Dead Sea, and into the border town of Eilat. Eilat sits atop the Red Sea and hosts one of the very few land boarders in the country. Our mission was to get into Jordan, but first we had to do all this driving. 

To prepare for my co-pilot gig I’d been studying the traffic laws the entire trip thus far. Things I’d noticed: The traffic lights go from green to yellow to red, but then back to yellow before turning green again. When the lights turn yellow just before turning green- you better already have your foot pressed on the gas by the end of the yellow because you WILL get honked at. (The reason for the extra yellow light is because a few years back all cars were stick shift, so this yellow was to let everyone know to start shifting into gear because the green is coming.) Also English was all over the place, on all street signs, so absolutely no need to worry at all about that (also Arabic, so 3 languages on every single sign). Roads and turning lanes and all other street mechanics were identical to American roads. So once I’d realized all this, I was left to only worry about riding with my erratic father.

Hop in the car and peel out the lot. Off we go. Dad was being alright. I had to speak extremely clearly and be very firm with my instructions or else he’d kinda linger in limbo between lanes or something, but it was fine. Eventually I relaxed. 

Oh and another thing was that when we explained to an Israeli colleague that our plan was to drive down Highway 90 to Eilat by ourselves we were met with obvious concern. The explanation of that concern was that after leaving the big cities the roads are like the, quote, “Wild Wild West” in that there are no rules and it’s too unsafe to drive in the dark because the roads are windy & unlit, but also there’s a risk of getting stopped and badly robbed. I’d dealt with this in Africa a few times + heard stories, so I know this can be a serious thing. However, we weren’t planning to drive in the dark, so I was totally unconcerned. 

Our big plan was to swim in the Dead Sea on the way down. Dad had been to a certain beach with his mother 10 years ago and so we planned to go to that same one since he was familiar. We put it in the GPS. 

The Dead Sea is at the lowest point on Earth. The Jordan River flows into it, but so does all the water from the surrounding mountains. This water brings salty chemistry  from the rocky lands into the Sea but then evaporates very quickly since it’s in a arid desert. You’re left with crazy high levels of salt in the remaining water, making it a horrible habitat. People like to eat salt, so people like to sell salt. Because of some mining and dredging and other hydraulic meddling, the Sea has been shrinking rapidly. The coastline has been receding and people are torn about how many f*cks to give since no one lives in the sea. It is tourism though, since it’s so interesting. If it’s all slurped up then the little beach resorts along its coast will all have to close. Much debate.

So we drive and drive, slowing sinking closer to Earth’s core. Ears popping, we pass highway signs that announce our dropping elevation. We’re driving through desert with rocky craggy hills. Piles of sand. I saw a desert mountain goat. It’s legitimate wilderness. It looks hot. I discover with some reflection that I’m scared of the desert. By the time we make it to the Dead Sea coast we’re at 1,385ft below sea level. I contemplate attempting a 5k PR due to the significant increase in oxygen density. We finally get the the place on the map where Dad was taking me to swim. Except that the road to it doesn’t exist anymore. We can’t see it anywhere. We pull off into the driveway of a kibbutz to figure out what was going on. Yep, apparently the beach had closed down a few years ago. This irked me. But it’s not Dad’s fault that the Dead Sea is shrinking faster than Google can update. Plan B will have to wait until after lunch. 

Lunch, by the way, was eaten at the kibbutz we stopped at. They actually had a crazy neat little campsite that hosted young people who want to enjoy some summertime ‘glamping’. They’d turned a dozen of those old little VW mini vans into ‘van life’ dwellings for people to rent. The scenery was astounding. Super cute open air bar and restaurant, clean and stylish shared bathrooms and showers. A desert sandstone mountain looming overhead. I quickly got over the annoyance of our Plan A going awry. 

Plan B was a place the bartender told us about- Ein Bokek. We drove a bit further down the coast and pulled into the small public beach parking lot. When I stepped out of the car the heat hit me in a way that I’d never felt in my life. It was oppressive, heavy. I felt like the sun was physically pressing down on me. I told dad that the goal was basically to get in the water and get out, I couldn’t do that kind of heat. It almost felt scary. I flew into the air conditioned beach shop, grabbed a non-alcoholic Carlsberg (much my excitement, a new beer in a new place!), and headed towards the public changing area. No sunscreen, it was gonna be a quick dip.

I knew that supposedly, due to the density of the water because salt, a person will float when they get out into the water at this place. But I didn’t know how odd said floating would actually feel. I’d spent a lot of time this past year in swimming pools and lakes learning to swim, trying to swim faster, and getting a feel for the water. But when I got in the water of the Dead Sea every law of physics I’d acquired over the past year was completely flipped upside down. I was on another planet, my body was not responding how it ought to. The water wasn’t moving under me or around me like it ought to. It held me up, pushed against me and didn’t really give way. This tickled me, I couldn’t get enough. I was flipping and flopping all around. HOWEVER- the water is so densely packed with unspeakable chemicals and salty potassium magnesium that it was primordially apparent that I absolutely could not let that water touch my eyes or mouth. You could just tell. Later I saw a sign on the beach warning of this, but instinctively everyone must know. No sign needed. The wind was gusting so hard though that you had to be real careful not to splash into the wind, otherwise you’d get the poison water in your face. Sunglasses were a lifesaver. The rocks at the bottom between my toes were huge salt crystals. There was a shade structure out in the water whose pillars were white with crusty salt accumulation. The sun was hammering us. But I just flipped and flopped!! I could have spend a few hours just lounging. 

But no, eventually my skin would burn to hell so we got out. The dry air mopped up the water on my skin within seconds, leaving a thin salt crust all over my body. We rinsed off and set back off in the Honda. Next stop- Eilat.

Actually just kidding, next stop: Military police checkpoint. Dad is still shirtless from the Sea. Cars are all stopped in a line, police swarming around the one in front. We are scrambling to find our passports, to get his shirt on, to look innocent and legal. We notice that the first car pulls out and around to park next to the checkpoint, several armed police in tow. The line to the gate progressed, with the cars ahead of us being waved through. When we get to the gate, the police bend down, look at our faces, and wave us through. Sigh of relief. I look back at the first car who’d been pulled aside. Stepping out from the car were 4 young Palestinian males. Ah, that was the problem. 

The rest of the ride was uneventful and we arrived to the hotel in one piece. Conquered the cross-country drive, great! Checked into the hotel and grabbed some delicious falafel for dinner. Tomorrow we’d cross the border. 

April 6, 2022