On our eighth day in Israel we grabbed a few goodies at a Neeman Bakery, around the corner from our hostel in Jerusalem, before jumping on an Egged bus headed to Ein Gedi, a small kibbutz located at the edge of the Dead Sea. For those who are new to Israel’s unique culture, a kibbutz is a “collective community” originally formed back in 1909 as a combination of socialism and Zionism. This particular kibbutz is primarily involved with agriculture and tourism, considering its prime position at the edge of one of the natural world’s most interesting phenomena. It is a quiet town, with just over 600 residents, and right beside the Armistice line with Palestine. Another claim to fame is their botanical garden - apparently one of the only populated gardens in the world. It is nothing particularly special, if not for the fact that it is a welcome burst of green in the middle of miles of dry, dusty desert landscapes.

The morning we got there it was a sultry 32 degrees at 11am. Upon a friend’s recommendation, we ended up staying at the Ein Gedi Camp Lodge, a funky little oasis in the middle of a Mad Max-esque scene. Maybe it was the complete desert isolation, or the LSD (just kidding), but the Lodge definitely had some Burning Man-steampunk vibes - clawfoot bathtubs converted to couches; a carriage turned lounge chaise; the Lodge owner, Avi, walking around wearing goggle glasses. Our room was an air conditioned tent with five mats on the floor and a cute little patio space outside each tent. It was simple and functional… and cool, the only necessity. The common space was part lounge, with couches and bean bags strewn about, part bar, with ping pong and pool tables.

We were quite lucky, as the tent we were assigned had a couple French girls already staying there once we checked in. They had been chatting to Avi who offered to drive the four of us a few miles down the road to the “locals” Dead Sea beachfront - private, with fresh water springs to rinse off in afterwards. Happily accepting this great hospitality, we hopped out at the top of a seemingly short hill walk - by the time we got to the bottom of the 5 minute walk, we were ready for a swim. The desert heat is no joke - I can’t imagine life there in July, it would be suffocating. In this case, a dry, fall desert heat was more than sufficient. 

As we got closer to the seafront, the ground got crustier with dried salt, until one false step and I sunk through to my knee to the slimy mud layer below. First, panic; second, hilarity that I would get stuck forever in a Dead Sea sinkhole. A rescue line of one Canadian and two French girls dragged me out and we gingerly stepped the rest of the way down to the water. 

It’s hard to explain the feeling of sitting on top of the water, when every instinct tells you it shouldn’t be possible. It takes no effort at all, aside from minimal oblique strength to stay belly side up and not be flipped by the buoyancy. 

After a few minutes of floating and slathering ourselves in the nutrient rich black mud, we would hop out and splash ourselves in the fresh water springs that bubbled up beside the Sea, a cause of concern for residents along the Dead Sea who watch the coastline cave into sinkholes regularly from this fresh water-saline combination. In our case, it was more than welcome given the slight burn we started to experience. A few words for the wise: Don’t shave before going in the Dead Sea. 

After an unsuccessful attempt at hitchhiking, a long, hot walk and a short bus ride, we made it back to camp where we quickly showered before booting it up to the Kibbutz to stop in at the grocery store. A homemade dinner was in the cards given there were minimal food options at the camp. It was a really beautiful evening as we watched the sunset glow over the Dead Sea, two Kibbutz high schoolers jogging around their running track in the middle of the desert. That night we made our pasta in the open air camp kitchen and then sat with our lovely French tent mates, Pauline and Alice, chatting into the night about dating, finding our passions and Alice’s university friend who was getting married in Bethlehem the next day. 

As the night drew to a close, we actually met a pair of German girls who were driving to hike Masada the next day and had room to take us in their car so we didn’t need to pay for the 4am bus shuttle. I love how serendipitous everything feels when you are travelling, even if it’s just a matter of being more open to meeting people. With our ride sorted for the next morning, we slept soundly for a few hours.

Enjoying reading about our time in Israel? Follow along on the next few day’s worth of adventures.