We were up at 3am this morning, and on the bus by 4. My natural wake-up time, of course is about 8 hours later than this. So I struggled to my feet in the Bedouin tent, managed to pack up my stuff and get on the bus. But the day cannot be said to have started yet, for I was not yet awake: during most of the bus trip (I think it was about an hour), I was asleep.
We got to Masada (western foothill) by about 5, and climbed up the Roman Ramp to the mountaintop plateau. It was still totally dark, and I had to use my flashlight a bit. On the way, me and Dave told Asher the Oogalaboogala joke from the beginning (he didn't hear the end last night): but he wasn't impressed with the clever twist at the end.
Sunrise at Masada: worth the 3am wakeup?Once on the hill fortress of Masada, we sat atop the eastern wall, with a pale dawn light, and patiently awaited the sunrise. I tried to take a photo, but to my alarm the camera battery was flat: the very first time that a spare battery wasn't on me the entire trip; and it decides to go flat! Luckily, I tried again later, and the dead battery managed a few snaps.
Me upon Masada, greeting the sunriseWe observed the spectacular sunrise at Masada (much like yesterday's), with the Dead Sea lit up brilliantly; then we went on another "Nimrod's historical tour" of Masada.
The place was built (though not originally) by King Herod as a retreat and a stronghold. He was paranoid that everyone wanted to kill him (similar to our friend and comrade, Joseph Stalin). Once Herod disappeared, a group of zealots took over.
Nimrod told the famous story of how the zealots (1,000 of them) all killed themselves (except 2): 10 were chosen to kill the others; and all the valuables and structures were destroyed. The reason: the Romans were coming to loot Masada and enslave its people: they preferred to die than become Roman slaves!
We concluded the tour of Masada, then began the long climb down the eastern cliffs. Just to tantalise us, there was a cable car operating right along our steep, tiring track. It took a few hours, there were thousands of steps, and by the time we reached the bottom, my legs literally felt like jelly. And it was barely 9am in the morning!
[After breakfast] It didn't take long to get to the commercial beach area of the Dead Sea. When we got there, Zeeks told us: "Young fellas, don't urinate in the sea; and older boys, don't slap the salami either". He's such a funny guy!
Something approaching a photo pose, in the Dead SeaSwimming in the Dead Sea is something I've waited my whole life to do. From an early age, I've heard how you simply float without paddling, because of the 36% salt content (the ocean is only 3%). It was much like I expected when I went in - but it was extremely cold, and my skin went sort of slimy / soapy / salty. I lay on my back for a while and enjoyed the pleasant feeling.
On the shores of the Dead SeaThere were a whole lot of Brazilians (some hot chicks among them), and we talked to them for a bit; then we had lunch, and not only did I drop a plate full of vegies, but also there were annoying birds that shitted all over us! So lunch wasn't exactly the most enjoyable moment. On top of that, my nuts were absolutely killing me: the salt from the sea was making them sting, and it hurt like hell!
We got dry and got back on the bus, then left behind us the amazing Dead Sea. The rest of the day was spent driving to Tel Aviv. We stopped once at a petrol station, and I had an ice cream. [Dave also had a Crembo at this particular petrol station, but that's a long story] Also, can I just say that Uri and Ariel (the two soldiers) are absolute champions; and, of course, that Dikla is totally hot.
So we drove through the desert and the countryside, and finally the outskirts of Tel Aviv, until we arrived at Kibbutz Shefayim and unloaded our stuff into the hotel rooms.
After dinner, we listened to this friend of Nimrod's who survived a suicide bombing. He's had basically every part of his body injured, and has by some amazing miracle managed to survive. He told us about his life, and about his job as a security guard at the café [Mike's Place] where a British suicide bomber struck.
Today was Nimrod's birthday, so we had a cake and a song for him after the talk. The cake had three sparkles that looked like candles: no matter how hard he tried, Nim just couldn't blow them out!