From the Mt. Zion hotel in Jerusalem, we made for the Dead Sea (known here as the Salty Sea), leaving at the mysterious hour of 6 a.m. First, we stopped at Mt. Masada nearby, where instead of walking up the winding trail, we took the tourist option via the tram. At the top you find the ruins of a huge estate built at the order of King Herod, who never actually made it there before he lost power.

Then we trammed down and drove to a point where you can float in the dead sea. Swim is not the right word. You float, effortlessly. I sugguest you try it. Because there is a large amount of salt there, along with other minerals, humans float. It's like flying, walkinging space, or crawling through a room filled with whipped ceam with an abnormally boyant consistancy. Then, goes the tradition, you get dead sea mud, rub it all over your body, sit around for a while, and then, according to our tour guide Ofer, you'll be eaten by mud-seeking Dead Sea sharks.

Actually, there are no sharks in the Dead Sea. This is, of course, because the sharks are loyal to Jordan, which looms in the hills in the distance, and Israeli Defence forces patrol the waters wiht floating submarines.

Of course, that's not true. In fact, the sea contains many minerals which are good for your skin, according to Ofer, but it contans no life. Water comes to the Dead Sea but doesn't go anywhere. The minerals and things make certain Israelis very rich. At the gift shop back at the very modern Masada tourist-money-grabbing center, an all inclusive line of Dead Sea creams and lotions and soaps and shampoos and of course, evening wear.

The ancient Israeli tradition, of course, is to go there and spend large amounts of money on the creams, go into the Dead Sea, realize that such an activity makes your skin dry, apply liberal amounts of lotion, and return to the gift shop to spend another large amount of money because you need to give the cream to your friends, relatives and U.S. customs agents.

After that, exhausted and cranky, we arrived at a tourist version of a Bedouin camp, where we were promptly allowed to ride camels. I have photos to prove this. It is very hard labor. For the people, I mean, who have to withstand a short period of general discomfort as the camel ackwardly walks through the desert for 10 minutes. The camels seam to enjoy it. I interpreted the constant whining and general sour demeanor to the second-hand smoke billowing into their paths courtesey of the man pulling the camels along.

We spent the night at the "Bedouin village," which is actually a tourist location dressed up kind of sort of like modern-day Israeli Bedouins live. Which is actually kind of cool. It's a little like camping. We started off by learning about the history of the Bedouins, hearing some Bedouin music, playing some group games in the "tend" area (which was a huge, open area with a roof and some walls featuring large gaps open to the outside world.

As we played one game that probably comes easy to small children but was difficult for me to master, one of the other students broke rank and pointed out that over there, by the tent entrance, there was a fox.

He was in no way a menacing fox. If anything, he probably wanted to cuddle up with us or play our funny games. But as humans, we could not tolerate this fox, so the men in the group lunged toward the beast and scared it back out into the wild.

The beast, I would estimate, was about as large as a toaster. The women were scared, of course, so we men took charge and began setting up a perimeter. And by that, I mean, a couple of us went to get more water.

Later, instead of going to sleep, a few of us went outside of the tent, looked at stars, and were surprised by a moon rise that wasn't on our official schedule.

And then, without warning and in an unprovoked attack on our soverign land, the beast-fox returend. Or had two come? In a split second, we lunged toward the pack of creatures and again secured safety for our group. Bear in mind that this was something like 3 in the morning, and today we might remember the details in a way slightly divergent from reality.

But the long story cut short is that the foxes continued to come back, sometimes in the tent, other times walking around outside of it, other times darting around in the distance. This was in additon to passing wild dogs and feral cats, as well as the donkeys and/or mules and camels hanging out nearby.

We considered going hunting, but considering that camels go for somewhere betwene $5,000 and $15,000, we opted to remain unarmed and avoid escalating the conflict in this peaceful part of Israel.

My battery is near death ... I'll write more later after dinner.

Shabat Shalom!

Dan