Dead Sea Misadventures

This post is part of the ongoing Sunday Travel Selection series.  Every Sunday, a new travel story is featured.  This month’s theme is Lost in Translation. This week, Ryan Martin is our selected writer.

Sometimes when traveling, you get comfortable and think you have everything figured out. You know what to eat, where to stay, where to go, and how to get there. You walk with a little strut in your step while winking at the ladies as they pass by (or at least I do).

Guidebook. Who needs that?

Etiquette? I’m the epitome of politeness and cultural understanding!

Then out of nowhere, your world gets turned upside down and you realize you’re not the world’s greatest and best backpacker. It’s a humbling experience.

This is about one such time.

Amman, Jordan

I only had one day in the capital city of Jordan before flying to Turkey. So what did I do?

I blitzed the area like a fat kid at a candy store before being sent off to fat camp.

What I really wanted to do was check out the Dead Sea. I was told that you float above the water as the salinity is nearly 10 times that of the ocean. You cannot sink.

Wouldn’t that make me sorta like Jesus? That would definitely bring up my cool factor.

At the time, I was traveling with another American and two Brits. So between the four of us, we figured out how to get to the Dead Sea via public transport.

So off we went through the city to find the bus station. While on the bus, we were getting stares from all the locals. For some reason, I don’t think it’s the most common method of transport for tourists getting to the Dead Sea. Oh well, it’s all about the experience!

It was stifling hot in the bus as we made the 45 minutes journey. Maybe it was because we were headed to the lowest point on Earth during the hottest part of the day during the hottest month of the year, but that’s just a guess.

We transferred buses and made it to the deserted beach by mid-afternoon. The four of us threw our stuff on the hard sand and made a bee-line for the water.

What we didn’t consider was the effects of 33% salinity water on the body, specifically the skin. Any open cuts would sting and burn, and if in the eyes, would cause serious pain.

What did we do? We jumped in like two-year-olds at a wading pool, screaming and yelling with mouth and eyes wide open.

Not such a great idea in retrospect.  I could hear the others screaming like teenage girls just after spotting Justin Beiber.  I Ray Charles’ed it up the beach with eyes closed until I ran into something that felt like a shower post.  Luckily, there were fresh water showers close by where we could rid ourselves of pain.

I wonder if someone was watching us from afar. Because they would’ve definitely had a laugh to see four grown men enthusiastically run into the Dead Sea only to return a few minutes later cursing, screaming, and yelling like little girls.

I’m not proud, but I’m honest.

Once we realized this wasn’t a giant wading pool, we returned and gently entered the deceiving waters.

Then came all the fun. We swam around on our stomachs like Superman, sat on a chair cushion that was unable to sink, rested on our backs, and covered ourselves in Dead Sea mud.

For the record, the mud actually does make your skin feel soft. After the Dead Sea, my skin was probably the softest, most supple, most sexy skin on the planet. Too bad I was in a Muslim country where the hook up ratio was near zero.

Then the time came to return to Amman, although we didn’t have a clue how to get back. Most people arrived by private tour and as far as we could tell, the bus that took us to the Dead Sea wasn’t returning anytime soon.

“Why don’t we hitchhike?” I suggested.

So one of the Brits and myself stood on the side of the road, thumbs out, hoping for a ride. What we didn’t expect was to be honked at, flipped off, and blown by like a dirty set of underwear.

“What the hell? These Jordanians are jerks.” I said to my British friend.

We both threw our thumbs out as far as they could go as the next car passed by. As it whizzed by at mach 3, my friend screamed curses at the driver.

Probably not the best thing to scream at a potential ride.

One of the other friends came by to see how it was going and watched us in action. The two of us jumped up and down with giant smiles and thumbs out. The car whizzed by.

“You idiots,” the third amigo yelled. “Thumbs up here is an extremely offensive insult!”

“Oh,” I said feeling about 2 inches tall.

No wonder nobody was stopping for us. We were unintentionally giving them an obscene gesture with hopes of getting a ride. Fat chance!

Shortly thereafter, we found an awesome tour guide who gave us a ride to where we could get the bus back to Amman.  And the rest was history.

In reality, Jordanians aren’t bad at all. In fact, they’re extremely friendly.  I was just ignorant. And taken down a notch off my high thrown of backpacking.  I still maintain that it’s good for you every once in a while.

About The Author

Ryan is a 26 year old single male who just finished backpacking around the world in 2010. His trip took him to Asia, Australia, Africa, the Middle East, and Europe. He’s been backpacking since 2005, but just built a website to combine his love of travel with work. So if you know anybody looking for a travel writer, travel photographer, or travel guide, let him know. You can subscribe and read more of his awesome stuff at followmeeverywhere.com.

Want to write for the Sunday Travel Selection?  Read our editorial calendar and submission process here.