Salt Lang Syne

Dearest Rachel –

Compared to you, I’m not much for swimming, as you well know. If the opportunity comes up, I may or may not take it. Once upon a time, when I was a cute/smart little kid, it was a good way to meet people, especially cute girls wearing next to nothing (yes, I was still mostly blind even back then, but I could appreciate the view, such as it was). And certainly, you offered quite the view, back in the day. These days, I’m smart enough to know that’s not a good luck coming from someone like me, despite (or maybe because of) the fact that I find myself actually looking again. And while I suppose that’s one more form of exercise I ought to be engaging in, it’s not one I particularly prefer.

But you? Even if there was the barest hint of opportunity, you would jump on it. You counted the number of beaches on the island, and made a point of visiting as many of them each day as you could. I’d gotten you that membership to the Park District pool facility by our place as soon as it opened for business – and as soon as the pandemic subsided, and you were allowed back there, you were going there nearly every day I went to the “office.” I considered it money well-spent, even if I didn’t take advantage of my own membership (and I probably should consider starting that back up, as the place is on my way across town – I could spend an hour there, working out, either before or after “work.” What do you think?)

Meanwhile, I feel like I need to push Daniel toward being a little more participatory on this trip – although I’ll grant that he’s managed to surprise me already a time or two thus far – but I suspect if I don’t go, he won’t go.

And so, as we’re approaching the Dead Sea, I’m resolved to take a dip in there, in part for his sake, and in part just for old times’ sake. Call it… salt lang syne.

***

As we’re driving past the northern part of the Dead Sea, Yael points out the holes in the ground along an abandoned beachfront. As she tells the tale, about eight years ago, Mineral Beach –one of the more notable ones in the area – suffered a rash of sinkholes. The salt under the beach was dissolving as the sea began to dry up (in fact, at this point, there are actually two parts to the sea, one large on to the north and a smaller one in the south) to the point of getting dangerous. Like, potential to swallow a bus full of tourists dangerous. And so, Mineral Beach was closed, permanently.

And yes, that was the beach we went to on our first trip here. We were, apparently, among the last people to visit that particular beach. Wild, isn’t it? It’s to be expected that there would be some places that we’ve been to that no longer exist, but I would never have expected one of them to be at the Dead Sea.

Anyway, that stretch of beachfront has been adding sinkholes at the rate of nearly one each day, to the point where there are some four thousand of them. Yes, just like in Blackburn…

I read the news today—oh, boy
Four thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire
And though the holes were rather small
They had to count them all
Now they know how many holes it takes
to fill the Albert Hall

“A Day in the Life,” from Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967), by the Beatles (verse by John Lennon)

Anyway, it seems that the threatened area is in fact relatively small –although if the holes are big enough to threaten a bus, they probably wouldn’t all fit in the royal Albert Hall – so a few miles further south is our hotel

For all my wistfulness about swimming here again (although Yael is quick to point out that one does not ‘swim’ in the Dead Sea – something we witnessed firsthand with a man being dragged from the Sea by two companions on a previous visit. I think I guessed he had either responded to a dare or a bet, but to think putting your head underwater in the Dead Sea was a good idea would involve more than a little bit in the way of intoxicants), I’m just as eager as Daniel by now to get myself down to the sea.

And in a way, it’s every bit as fun as it was in previous times, especially as I encourage the others to get out into the deeps where they can’t touch the bottom, and still find themselves bobbing chest high out of the water, like corks.

I’m still sorry you didn’t get this one more chance to enjoy all of this. I keep telling myself that whatever you’re experiencing must be infinitely better – because no matter what man can come up with, God will always be able to do him so many times better – but it’s hard for me to wrap my head around this ‘fact’.

Anyway, it seems the gang is planning to head to the mall in the far right end of the panorama, so I’m going to tag along. I’ve got Christmas shopping to do.

Wish me luck, honey – I’m going to need it.