Dead Sea Denial

When you travel Jordan, visits to Petra and the Dead Sea are pretty much taken for granted.  I have been to the sea before from the Israeli side, and was anxious for Ben to experience the lowest place on earth. As we set out to drive there I had him keep his swim shorts handy so that he wouldn't miss the opportunity to 'swim' in the salty water.  We had our first glimpse of the sea from the top of Mt Nebo, where Moses first viewed the Promised Land. You can clearly see Jerico across the Jordan River, but Moses must have had to use all his faith to believe there was a land over there flowing in milk and honey.

As you leave the olive groves and goat herds behind you enter a dry and barren land. Nothing grows here, and all is rock and dust. "The sea is so in-your-face," was Jon's first comment. The land was so obviously parched, and sitting right next to a large body of water that was of no use at all. It's water would not benefit plants or animals.
At least we, humans, could use the water to bathe in, couldn't we. The first beaches we encountered belonged to fancy hotels who either didn't let us in, or would charge an arm and a leg to do so.

We continued on down the coast, looking for a public place where we could at least clamber down to the water's edge and get a toe in the water.  We found no place without cliffs down to the salty edge.  There were a few kiosks where someone had had the idea to sell drinks to tourists enjoying the view, but no one had thought to build a walkway down to the water. Bathing in the Dead Sea must be no longer a thing to do. Neither was there anything else to do on the water. No boats cruised by, no jet skis or divers appeared. Good for nothing!...

...Good for being alone, and quiet, and feeling lucky you have a car to take you up and out of here. So we snapped a picture of the water we couldn't enter, drink or enjoy, and headed south.  The road climbs steeply through the rocky hills and canyons in a series of winding curves. We were captivated once again by the sheer desolation of the place and decided to stop and get one more parting photo of the sea from above. We found the perfect spot to pull over and Jon reached for his camera. I noticed more than a few dogs sitting at the side of the road pick up their heads and turn towards us. "Look at all the dogs!" Suddenly the hills were alive with more than a hundred wild dogs of all shapes and sizes, appearing from behind rocks and from above and below us. As Jon started to get out of the car they charged. There is nothing scarier than a pack of wild dogs all coming for you. I screamed and wound up the window. Jon couldn't get the car going and out of there quick enough. The dogs converged on the car, surrounding us while barking wildly.
Like guard dogs to a sea that needs no protection, they denied us a final goodbye.