Not everywhere.
That said (and be prepared: I'm going to say MUCH MORE about it), it's a wonderful - albeit rather long - journey from Eilat to, say, Ein Gedi halfway up the Dead Sea - but doable. 230 km on a dead quiet road, in a wide, bright, landscape with on the one side the Hwy in Jordania and on the other the Negev mountains, both way in the distance.
We went to the Dead Sea on a lovely warm and sunny day and found the trip very restful. But then, that's us: unwinding and relaxing by driving these kind of roads.
First you arrive at the salt pans. The Dead Sea is evaporating in a sickening tempo - we talked to a woman who said that within 50 years there won't be a Dead Sea anymore - and the southern tip of the Sea is now used for salt mining.
Forget the beautiful pictures you see in the tourist brochures of strange, spikey salt formations - they're gone. That was when the salt pans were still Nature, now we ran into an enormous magnesium plant, and they 'reorganised' the place for efficient mining.
This plant is a bit of an eyesore to be honest, after driving 200 km. in pristine desert land.
Next come the wellness hotels. The wellness parks, to be more correct. Again bang in the middle of the desert rise huge, white, modern and expensive-looking buildings with lavish green lawns, swimming pools, terraces and lots of palm trees near the Sea. They advertise on huge billboards, promising the most luxurious Spa stroke Dead Sea treatments.
But we didn't see a soul swimming in the sea. So these treatments are to be enjoyed inside, I guess...
And they'll cost.
So on we went, now driving along the border of the Sea itself. Next to the Hwy a no man's land of unkempt sand and pebbles, with signs every 300 metres warning us no swimming was allowed.
Ok...?!
We drove further north, past Masada, on to Ein Gedi, where we finally spotted a place where we were allowed to swim: a communal beach. It catered for hundreds and hundreds of cars (ie. huge parking lots) but there were only some 10 cars when we arrived.
We paid to park our car, walked to the buildings and - well, best to see the pics for yourself.
It was weird. There were old-fashioned barracks for changing rooms, a concrete path leading to a concrete terrace where you could sunbathe. At the end, near the sea, a small shack for the lifeguard and next to it a slippery path with a rusty railing leading down to a very very small patch of Dead Sea where you were allowed to swim.
Believe me - I'm used to Indonesia, and I'm not particular when it comes to the environment in places outside neat and clean Western Europe.
But this steep beach was, apart from littered with sharp rocks that made walking practically impossible, dirty.
Like in really dirty. Littered with plastic bottles, crumbled wipes, and tissues you didn't want to know what they had been used for.
Anyway. We found a reasonably clean spot and hobbled into the sea. Kneedeep you're supposed to (elegantly) lower yourself and start floating. I stumbled over a particularly slippery stone and fell.
Don't do that. The water of the Dead Sea is splattered in your face and it tastes yuck!
But the floating was nice. It was strange. It was relaxing. You're like an airbed. And that proved to be a problem because we had strong winds that day that made you drift quickly past the small patch you were allowed to swim in. And then try to 'swim' back - impossible. You sort of swim upright, with your arms making the proper movements and your legs flipping vertically like mad to make speed against the waves.
Pieter got out very soon, I stayed in longer, till all the bruised and soft tissues of my body hurt.
They never tell you about that when raving about the Wellness of Floating in the Dead Sea, but believe me: even the skin you chewed away around your fingernails starts to burn.
After bathing in the Dead Sea your skin is strangely slippery. With 35C and the strong winds we climbed up the rusty railing (dirty brown hands) asap to shower with sweet water (so not to turn into salt pillars ourselves). Then we scrambled back to get our stuff, and went to the barracks to change.
Now I'm sure you can have an amazing experience floating in the Dead Sea. A wellness Spa if there ever was one. But please organise your trip better than we did: find a place where you can float to your hearts content and pick a day with no winds.
Whatever, we did swim in the Dead Sea. Another strange experience, and well worth the trip - especially when we saw a beautiful sunset, and the colours of the rocks changing as evening fell when we drove back to Eilat.
That said (and be prepared: I'm going to say MUCH MORE about it), it's a wonderful - albeit rather long - journey from Eilat to, say, Ein Gedi halfway up the Dead Sea - but doable. 230 km on a dead quiet road, in a wide, bright, landscape with on the one side the Hwy in Jordania and on the other the Negev mountains, both way in the distance.
We went to the Dead Sea on a lovely warm and sunny day and found the trip very restful. But then, that's us: unwinding and relaxing by driving these kind of roads.
First you arrive at the salt pans. The Dead Sea is evaporating in a sickening tempo - we talked to a woman who said that within 50 years there won't be a Dead Sea anymore - and the southern tip of the Sea is now used for salt mining.
Forget the beautiful pictures you see in the tourist brochures of strange, spikey salt formations - they're gone. That was when the salt pans were still Nature, now we ran into an enormous magnesium plant, and they 'reorganised' the place for efficient mining.
This plant is a bit of an eyesore to be honest, after driving 200 km. in pristine desert land.
Next come the wellness hotels. The wellness parks, to be more correct. Again bang in the middle of the desert rise huge, white, modern and expensive-looking buildings with lavish green lawns, swimming pools, terraces and lots of palm trees near the Sea. They advertise on huge billboards, promising the most luxurious Spa stroke Dead Sea treatments.
But we didn't see a soul swimming in the sea. So these treatments are to be enjoyed inside, I guess...
And they'll cost.
So on we went, now driving along the border of the Sea itself. Next to the Hwy a no man's land of unkempt sand and pebbles, with signs every 300 metres warning us no swimming was allowed.
Ok...?!
We drove further north, past Masada, on to Ein Gedi, where we finally spotted a place where we were allowed to swim: a communal beach. It catered for hundreds and hundreds of cars (ie. huge parking lots) but there were only some 10 cars when we arrived.
We paid to park our car, walked to the buildings and - well, best to see the pics for yourself.
It was weird. There were old-fashioned barracks for changing rooms, a concrete path leading to a concrete terrace where you could sunbathe. At the end, near the sea, a small shack for the lifeguard and next to it a slippery path with a rusty railing leading down to a very very small patch of Dead Sea where you were allowed to swim.
Believe me - I'm used to Indonesia, and I'm not particular when it comes to the environment in places outside neat and clean Western Europe.
But this steep beach was, apart from littered with sharp rocks that made walking practically impossible, dirty.
Like in really dirty. Littered with plastic bottles, crumbled wipes, and tissues you didn't want to know what they had been used for.
Anyway. We found a reasonably clean spot and hobbled into the sea. Kneedeep you're supposed to (elegantly) lower yourself and start floating. I stumbled over a particularly slippery stone and fell.
Don't do that. The water of the Dead Sea is splattered in your face and it tastes yuck!
But the floating was nice. It was strange. It was relaxing. You're like an airbed. And that proved to be a problem because we had strong winds that day that made you drift quickly past the small patch you were allowed to swim in. And then try to 'swim' back - impossible. You sort of swim upright, with your arms making the proper movements and your legs flipping vertically like mad to make speed against the waves.
Pieter got out very soon, I stayed in longer, till all the bruised and soft tissues of my body hurt.
They never tell you about that when raving about the Wellness of Floating in the Dead Sea, but believe me: even the skin you chewed away around your fingernails starts to burn.
After bathing in the Dead Sea your skin is strangely slippery. With 35C and the strong winds we climbed up the rusty railing (dirty brown hands) asap to shower with sweet water (so not to turn into salt pillars ourselves). Then we scrambled back to get our stuff, and went to the barracks to change.
Now I'm sure you can have an amazing experience floating in the Dead Sea. A wellness Spa if there ever was one. But please organise your trip better than we did: find a place where you can float to your hearts content and pick a day with no winds.
Whatever, we did swim in the Dead Sea. Another strange experience, and well worth the trip - especially when we saw a beautiful sunset, and the colours of the rocks changing as evening fell when we drove back to Eilat.
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