Raid On En Gedi

That's a clever play on words by the way.
So, the morning after I arranged to meet Martina at 8.30 in the hostel's reception, she was there but somewhat troubled by my offer of a lift to EnGedi the previous evening. Since I was actually going there and she was worried about getting a bus offering a lift was the obvious thing to do. However, she was now having second thoughts- no problem, I went to get a coffee while she thought about it. On my return she was in a bigger tiz, I wasn't going to talk her into it either she wanted a lift or she didn't. She said she needed longer to think but I wanted to visit Bethlehem before leaving Jerusalem so I wasn't happy about hanging around. In the end she asked the manager of the hostel for her views. We had this strange scenario of Martina expressing her concerns in German as if I wasn't there while I stood behind her understanding every word. Sensibly the manager lady said it was entirely a matter for her and only Martina could decide but that accepting a lift seemed a reasonable thing to do. Martina decided to write my details in her note book which she then put back in her bag- God knows why, had I killed her in a layby that's the first thing I would have destroyed. Anyway, we finally set off for Bethlehem- it was shut. Well to be accurate, it was Saturday morning, the border guard was not interested, we couldn't take the car in so needed a taxi on the other side and he just didn't want the hassle. We stopped to juice up and stocked up with water and good coffee before hitting the road. I was fairly confident of my navigating having driven there but strangley missed my exit. Next thing I know there are burning cars on the roadside surrounded by youths throwing stones over a high metal fence- this looks just like Ramalah, occupied territory and hottest of the central Palestinian hotspots- excellent. Martina by now is having kittens so I give in to her pleas and turn around heading through the smoke and back the way we came. Stopped at a army checkpoint by an Israeli soldier more interested in eating pistachios, a flash of the passport and we are back on the road to En Gedi. I consider the whole thing a bit of a result, Martina on the other hand is on the verge of a breakdown. My suggestion that we stop off in Jericho on the way is not kindly looked upon.
We arrived in EnGedi youth hostel to find it deserted so go to the only other thing there, the small stoney beach on the Dead Sea.This created more problems as she wanted to go into the sea but she was worried about her bag. She suggested taking it to the water's edge but I stupidly pointed out that if somebody grabbed it while she was 50 metres out there wasn't much she could do about it. We managed to clip her bag with a karribiner to a lamp post and she was almost happy. The Dead Sea is an unusual experience the water is slighlty oily and not unpleasant unless you happen to get some in your mouth so conventional swimming is out of the question. You bob around relaxing and before long realise it is actually a bit boring- it'll be a long 3 weeks for Martina. It soon became apparent from the black kids running round that soemone had found some of the healing Dead sea mud and we decided to have a go. Martina insisted on watching the bags so I had the honour of scrabbling down the rocky beach. Like so many things in life you can learn a lot if you watch what everyone else is doing and copy them so it wasn't long before I was pulling out huge handfulls of black slime from a hole in the sea bed about 2 feet below the surface. Then one spreads it anywhere one can reach, without a mirror I only missed little bit. I knew it would be a major effort for Martina to dig the stuff out so I galliantly gathered up a huge double handful and took it back to her. This backfired when I stumbled and cut my leg open on the rocks, the salty water would had stung pretty badly if it were not for the protective coating of mud.

After an hour of letting it dry we washed off and called the hostel on my mobile. The receptionist said they had no room for me and did not have Martina's reservation. Considering she intended to stay 3 weeks this was a knockback to say the least. We went up there, I did the talking, within minutes I had a nice double room to myself and Martina had her dorm bed for the duration. This lost it's edge when she found she was sharing with a bunch of school children and warned she wouldn't get much sleep. After a chill out hour we met again and headed 20 minutes down the road to find somewhere to eat at the large hotel resort. Sadly the only option was McDonalds and though I vowed never to partake I really not no choice.

The next morning Martina hooked up with an Australian who had a very bad skin complaint and had been told to go and 'take the waters' to improve her condition. This was useful for Martina because the chances of finding a companion there were as remote as the location itself. We parted and I have no idea what God said to her and what she did about it...but I'd be interested- who wouldn't?