Why Didn't the Israelites Just Wander North?

There is no forgiveness in the land of Israel. Take that how you may, down a sociological or philosophical rabbit hole. In any event you would end at the same mad hatter’s party. But I simply mean the land, the physical dust and rock that boils at one hundred degrees under a cloudless sky. I’ve heard people speak of the mystery of the wilderness, of its subtle beauties. But if so it is a beauty that kills and forgets.

The last three days of my life have been spent roaming this wilderness, the southern part of Israel called the Negev, traveling from Jerusalem to Ashkalon, to Arad, to Qumran, and finally home (yes, after a trip like that my hotel in Jerusalem has all the comforts of home). And I bet you couldn’t guess what the word “negev” means? “Dry.” Really, you don’t say so?

It is a stunning place really (note: stunning, not beautiful. I’m still to sunburned to admit it so). From massive caverns made entirely out of chalk, to the Mediterranean Sea with its dozens of unforgiving jellyfish. It truly leaves you speechless, the mere antiquity of it all. I went for a run along the beach (high stepping around said jellyfish), and the entire coastline is silhouetted with stone structures dating back to the Iron Age. Yes, the little spot of time before anyone knew anything about anywhere. When they just had figured out that they could use metal instead of rock to kill each other and do other neat things. That was Ashkalon.

There was a day of hiking, Wednesday. We climbed Israel’s version of the Grand Canyon, complete with a lovely encounter with the local flora and fauna (meaning, I jumped up on a rock and scared the hell out of a sleeping snake, who returned the favor). And then there was a day at the spa, Thursday. That was the Dead Sea. I won’t say it was a pleasant experience, but it was an Experience. When you step into a saline solution of 25% salt, you soon discover cuts and sores in places you never imagined. Every torn cuticle is a tiny bonfire being lit under the skin.. So I rubbed the mud on my body, I let it dry, I floated for a few minutes (which is strange sensation, weightlessness), and then I got the heck out and ran up the 200 degree walkway on blistering feet to wash the burning sensation out of my body. Apparently its good for your complexion.

Hours-- of bus-riding, hiking, swimming, burning, thirsting, repeating-- later, I am home in the City of David. And today? Today I am finding a pool and drinking girly drinks all day. This country owes me that much I think.