And I was the only one in the Dead Sea with a rash guard
There was lots of action during our trip to Israel last week, so let me begin with the low point... and by low point I mean 1300ft below sea level low. We spent a morning in the Dead Sea amidst a flotilla of citizens from post-Soviet countries. It was kind of great.
There are apparently dodgy public beaches around the Dead Sea, but it was made clear to us that you don't go there. You buy a day pass at a hotel. You have a buffet breakfast and lavish yourself upon their facilities like any self-respecting retiree from the Uzbekistan.
The lobby was marble, the cushions were orange and the carpet was plaid. The crowd had their plan down pat: Sauna, Sea, Jacuzzi, Steam room (dry), Steam Room (wet). Repeat for one weekend.
We changed into white terry bathrobes with the hotel name embroidered on the lapel and walked across the street to the beach. We got to wear our water shoes, which was a big deal because we didn't wind up going through that water tunnel in Jeruselem. Our guide said it was too cold that day and anyway a busload of Swedish school kids had just headed in there. They looked like splashers.
You're not supposed to float on your stomach in the Dead Sea because your feet just fling themselves skyward and people with shitty core muscles drown when they can't get their face up out of the water. We flipped around some trying to figure out the best way to take a nap. We had gotten up at 3am that morning to hike up a mountain at sunrise. I'm not going to say our efforts were really a win, but we at least achieved a buoyantly snoozy Detente.
We returned to the hotel to find the heated Black Sea water pool. I felt like I didn't have on enough aerosol hair spray and blue eyeshadow to really fit in and Tom's swimming trunks are way too comprehensive. I kept waiting for a Russian mob hit. Someone in a Speedo getting taken down by a guy in 70's nylon split shorts. I never realized there were so many styles of tiny men's bathing suits so appealing to the over 60 set.
All in all, the day was kind of unforgettable. We loved it.
There are apparently dodgy public beaches around the Dead Sea, but it was made clear to us that you don't go there. You buy a day pass at a hotel. You have a buffet breakfast and lavish yourself upon their facilities like any self-respecting retiree from the Uzbekistan.
The lobby was marble, the cushions were orange and the carpet was plaid. The crowd had their plan down pat: Sauna, Sea, Jacuzzi, Steam room (dry), Steam Room (wet). Repeat for one weekend.
We changed into white terry bathrobes with the hotel name embroidered on the lapel and walked across the street to the beach. We got to wear our water shoes, which was a big deal because we didn't wind up going through that water tunnel in Jeruselem. Our guide said it was too cold that day and anyway a busload of Swedish school kids had just headed in there. They looked like splashers.
You're not supposed to float on your stomach in the Dead Sea because your feet just fling themselves skyward and people with shitty core muscles drown when they can't get their face up out of the water. We flipped around some trying to figure out the best way to take a nap. We had gotten up at 3am that morning to hike up a mountain at sunrise. I'm not going to say our efforts were really a win, but we at least achieved a buoyantly snoozy Detente.
We returned to the hotel to find the heated Black Sea water pool. I felt like I didn't have on enough aerosol hair spray and blue eyeshadow to really fit in and Tom's swimming trunks are way too comprehensive. I kept waiting for a Russian mob hit. Someone in a Speedo getting taken down by a guy in 70's nylon split shorts. I never realized there were so many styles of tiny men's bathing suits so appealing to the over 60 set.
All in all, the day was kind of unforgettable. We loved it.
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