Noel’s phone ring is extremely loud, so a text from Marie wakes us up around midnight.

We sent her a text back this morning and give her Noel’s email address.

I read my Bible first thing this morning, as I usually do, then we go down to the restaurant and have our usual cereal, yoghurt and fruit breakfast.

We are then picked up by a Sinbad Tours driver named Imad. He is to drive us down to the Masada Mountain Fortress and the Dead Sea. This is a full day trip. He’s driving a small bus which we have all to ourselves.

Before we leave Jerusalem, Noel asks Imad to stop outside the bank that has an American dollar ATM machine, so he can draw out some more cash. Imad does so and we get out of the bus to operate the machine. All the ATM instructions are in Arabic or Hebrew, but we try our best. The machine finally accepts Noel’s Visa card, but does not give any money, and it does not return Noel’s card. We try everything we can think of to get it to work.

Imad finally gets out of the bus and reads the message on the machine. He tells us that the Hebrew words say that the machine is faulty and is not working.

A brown skinned girl with very shiny black hair comes along just then. She too is about to put her card in the machine, but Imad warns her not to do so.

Noel is very concerned over the loss of his card, and we have virtually no spending money left, but there is nothing we can do. The bank that owns the machine is closed for Sunday and we need to be on our way.

So I write down the name and street address of the bank and take a photo of the building just to be sure and also the street sign. We decide to come back tomorrow morning when it the bank is open.

So off we drive, eastward down into the hot Jordan River valley again, and then south. Our destination is the Masada mountain top Fortress and the Dead Sea. It is about 80 kms or an hours drive.

As we descend down from high city of Jerusalem, we pass hillside markers on the way, telling us how many metres we are below sea level.

Our bus is a Mercedes, but it is very rough riding and crashes noisily over the bumps.

Soon we are down in the hot Jordan valley, the lowest part of Israel. The Dead Sea is 800 metres below sea level.

As we head south we pass a military checkpoint.

On the way we stop at a date palm plantation and take some photos a date palm tree. Our driver tells us these trees grow a little taller every year. He says you can estimate the age of a plantation by the height of its palms.

The dates will ripen in about two months, in September. I was disappointed to hear this as I was hoping to try a fresh date.

The countryside is now barren desert. The outside temperature is a hot 39°C. Not a cloud in sight in any direction. We can see the towering Masada mountain in the distance.

This Masada Fortress we are visiting is located on a barren mountain top, 400 metres above the surrounding Dead Sea Valley desert. That’s as high as two Mount Maunganuis stacked on top of each other.

Over 2000 years ago it was a safety refuge and also a winter retreat for wealthy King Herod the Great, a Jewish king appointed by the Romans. He built a lavish palace complex and fortress on the site.

After the Jerusalem temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD, Jewish rebels (or defenders, depending whose side you were on) fled south from the Romans in Jerusalem and took over this Masada Palace fortress. It was easily defended against the Romans with its steep cliffs on every side, and just one steep narrow track winding up. This track was called the ‘Snake Path’.

These rebels were called Zealots. A Roman army was duly dispatched to dislodge them. But they found it almost impossible. After sieging them for two years without success, they spent a further nine months building a massive dirt ramp up one side of the mountain. As slave labour for this work, they used 12,000 Jewish prisoners.

When the ramp was complete, they manoeuvred a huge battering ram up the incline. Finally, at dusk one evening, the Romans managed to batter and burn down a huge protective wood and dirt wall that the Zealots had built at the top of the ramp to keep them out. The Romans decided to wait until daylight the next morning before attacking.

However, during the night, rather than surrender to the Romans the next day, the 960 Jewish defenders committed mass suicide. First they killed all their wives and children, and then themselves.

All that the Romans found in the Masada Fortress the next morning were dead bodies, apart from two women and five children who had hid from the slaughter.

One of these women reported the dead Jewish leader’s impassioned last speech. His name was Elazar. Part of it went as follows: "Since we long ago resolved never to be servants to the Romans, nor to any, other than to God himself, who alone is the true and just Lord of mankind, the time is now come that obliges us to make that resolution true in practice. It is still in our power to die bravely, and in a state of freedom. Let our wives die before they are abused, and our children before they have tasted of slavery, and after we have slain them, let us bestow that glorious benefit upon one another mutually."

After this oration, the men had their wives and children lie down and then killed them with their swords, They then drew lots and killed each other with their swords.

A cable car now runs from the desert, to the top of the mountain. Masada is very popular with tourists.

Imad our bus driver drops us off at the cable car building and gives us money to buy our tickets. They are prepaid as part of the tour. We then wait in a room below the mountain, along with other tourists, and wait for the cable car to come down the mountain.

Soon it arrives and up we go. It is quite a thrill.

From the top of the mountain there is a most impressive view out over the desert and the Dead Sea.

We can see that there are now two Dead Seas. Due to irrigation water being taken from the Jordan River the Dead Sea has shrunk so much in recent years, that a huge sand bank has been exposed, dividing the sea into two.

We then explore the Fortress area on the flat top of the mountain, perhaps 30 acres of land. We see remains of living areas, storage areas and two Roman palaces at the top.

What an incredible feat it must have been, back in those days, to drag all the required building materials up this high mountain by just a narrow winding track.

It is extremely barren here at the top, just a scattering of desert plant life. However there are a few birds here, which is unexpected.

We tour the remains of the main palace and are impressed with the high standard of decoration and workmanship.

As we walk around the perimeter of the ruins, we see the ramp the Romans constructed. We also see the place where the Romans broke through the wall the Jews had constructed.

On a plaque at the site is an artist’s impression of the huge battering ram they dragged up.

We also find a curious electrical device, covered in paint over spray. It looks as if it’s been designed to run off a car battery to create an electrostatic field when spray painting narrow, tubular objects. This electrostatic method is used when spraying metal objects like grills or tubular furniture where most of the paint is lost as over spray. By creating an electrical field in the object, nearly all the paint is attracted on to the object, even the underneath.

This is similar to the science of running a plastic comb through your hair and then using the comb to attract pieces of paper.

There is even graffiti in a place like this. I can’t blame my big son Jared for this one, but it does look like his writing.

Evidently during the Middle Ages some hermits lived here in Masada, in caves.

The story is told that they trained a donkey to walk down the Snake Track all by itself, and travel the six miles to a vegetable garden at an oasis near the Dead Sea. There the gardener would load the donkey up with vegetables and it would then trudge all the way back again by itself, climb the mountain by the Snake Track, and deliver the food to the hermits.

We ride the cable car back down again.

Imad then drives us to En Gedi, a resort village on the banks of the Dead Sea.

We have lunch with Imad in a serve-your-self restaurant here.

Among other exotic foods I try raw mushrooms, but they don’t taste very nice.

We get to know Imad better as we eat together. He is a very serious, devoted Moslem, but does nevertheless smoke.

He tells us of a plan to cut a canal, from the Red Sea, all the way to the Dead Sea, to allow fresh sea water to flow from the Red Sea down into the Dead Sea.

I ask him how such an expensive plan could be economically viable.

He replies that the water flow would generate electricity. There would be a fall of 800 metres from sea level at the Red Sea to the Dead Sea. And evaporation would take care of surplus water.

There are also factories here in En Gedi that extract minerals from the Dead Sea water for use in health supplements and cosmetics.

Noel has really been looking forward to having a swim in the Dead Sea as one of the highlights of our Middle East trip. Strangely, it doesn’t interest me that much, but I decide to have one too. That is, after Noel has had his, as we only have Noel’s swimming trunks between us.

So after our meal, Imad allows us 45 minutes for a swim.

We walk down toward the Dead Sea lake edge. It is quite a long way due to the sea being many metres below its old level. It is also very hot, probably over 40°C. We head to the changing rooms.

A cocky young Arab is lounging in a chair outside the changing rooms. As we are about to enter he demands a payment of one shekel.

We tell him we are on a pre-organised tour and our tour company will have paid for it.

Obviously he does not understand English and carries on demanding, "One shekel," and holding out his hand for it.

This "One shekel" demand goes on and on.

Finally ‘Mr One Shekel’ gets up out of his chair and stands in the doorway of the changing room with his arms out stretched across the doorway.

Time is going by, so finally Noel manages to find one shekel in his wallet and gives it to him. An Israel shekel is about 45 cents in NZ money.

But ‘Mr One Shekel’ is not satisfied with that. He wants one shekel for me to go in too.

I try and make him understand that I’m not going in to get changed, just to wait for Noel. But it’s no use, so I wait outside while Noel goes in alone and changes into his swim shorts.

Then we walk down the hot path to the thick, oily water of the Dead Sea. The beach is stony and the larger rocks along the shore are caked with a thick layer of dried salt which you can dig off with your hands.

Noel is quite excited as he enters the warm water. He really enjoys its buoyancy. "Like swimming in olive oil," he calls out. I take some photos of him, being careful not to drop my camera in the corrosive water.

You have to avoid getting even a drop of this foul-tasting salt water in your mouth. The bitter taste can linger for hours.

The water is of course made thick by the huge amount of mineral salts dissolved in the water, about 34%. There is no outlet to the Dead Sea and over the centuries the water has continually evaporated out, leaving the mineral content behind. The Dead Sea is not sea water, the mineral content is from the soils along the Jordan River. The sea of course would probably gets its salt content the same way, from the thousands of rivers flowing into it and daily evaporation.

Noel insists I have a swim also, so after he showers off the greasy water using the fresh water showers provided on the shore, we trudge back up to the changing rooms.

‘Mr One Shekel’ is lying back in his chair singing to himself.

We cannot believe our ears when he starts up again, "One shekel."

"We have already paid."

"One shekel. One shekel. You pay me every time."

We protest strongly. Finally he points us to a nearby shop. So we go over there and speak to the woman serving. Evidently she must have this problem all the time, and gives us two vouchers to get in.

Unfortunately after all this time our 45 minutes has expired and there is not enough time left for me to change and have a swim. However this does not bother me and we return to the welcome cool of our air-conditioned bus.

Next we drive past the Qumran caves where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found. We stop and I take a picture.

I also take a picture of an Acacia tree. These trees with their high quality wood are mentioned often in the Bible.

As we drive back to Jerusalem, Imad tells us of a Jewish Kibbutz in the area that has managed to generate electricity using Dead Sea water and sunshine.

Before turning left (westward) to drive back up the mountains to Jerusalem, we drive further north along the Jordan valley into Jericho. This old city is 400 metres below sea level. As we drive into the town the Jericho main street is lined with lush green Jacaranda trees with orange flowers. They look rather out of place in this hot dry desert environment. We also notice that the Jacaranda trees lining the road have their trunks painted white.

I ask the driver why is this so. He answers, "To make them look nicer."

This answer doesn’t sound too convincing. It could possibly be for safety reasons, so that they show up better at night.

Jericho is the town where Jesus visited and a short wealthy man called Zacchaeus climbed up a Sycamore Fig tree so that he could see Jesus over the crowds. Jesus saw him up the tree and called out, "Tonight, I am staying at your place Zacchaeus."

This was a great honour to Zacchaeus and he there and then publicly repented of his selfish lifestyle and agreed to give half his goods to the poor. This story found in Luke 19:1-10.

There is evidently only one Sycamore tree in Jericho, in the main street. It is a huge specimen, but as these trees normally don’t live over a thousand years, they believe this one may be directly related to the original Sycamore tree.

Imad takes us first of all to the usual, overpriced tourist souvenir shop. He seems a little embarrassed doing so. There are about three attendants per customer and we are offered free coffee and water and pestered relentlessly to buy junk, but we are not interested.

Then Imad takes us to a market place in the town centre which is interesting. There are children playing about and an older youth giving camel rides.

Nearby are excavations of what is claimed to be ancient Jericho, but I think the ancient city, whose walls collapsed at the Israelite trumpet blasts is much further away. On display in the open market place are what are claimed to be ancient artefacts they have found. Perhaps for sale to wealthy tourists. One is brand new.

It is intensely hot here in Jericho, and not a breath of wind. (Later this evening we were to see on TV that it was 45°C in Jericho this afternoon.)

We then find some cheerful, friendly fruit vendors. They give us some sweet dried figs to try that are the best I’ve ever tasted, so we buy some.

We also find a huge orange-like fruit called Pummelos. They look like oranges but are bright yellow. May be a type of grapefruit.

We are finding lots of new fruits on our trip. Jericho is noted for its fruit.

I see some date honey that looks nice, but it is heavy and I am already at my luggage weight limit.

Noel finds a cooking herb called saffron, often used in fish dishes. Very expensive in New Zealand, about NZ$6 a teaspoon, but comparatively cheap here, at US$5 for about a cup and a half. So he buys some, then begins to worry if he will be able to get it through NZ customs.

We then drive back up to Jerusalem, past the scruffy looking Bedouin camps with their goat herds and black tents in some of the valleys of the dry brown hills.

As the road climbs steadily upward, I better understand why the Bible frequently uses the term ‘up to Jerusalem’. Jerusalem is located 800 metres above sea level (nearly a kilometre), the same distance the Dead Sea is located below sea level.

Coming into Jerusalem we see a clear view of the hated Jewish wall being built.

Imad turns off the highway into Bethany to shows us his new house.

Imad’s house is new and modern, but as we saw the other day, the poverty and oppression of Bethany is appalling. It is littered with garbage and divided by the wall being built.

Finally we are dropped back at our hotel.

We just order yogurt, ice cream and fruit for dinner. Warm again tonight.

After dinner, as the sun is setting, we walk the approx 2 kms from our hotel to the Mormon BYU (Brigham Young) University to attend the regular Sunday evening free concert.

As we walk through the rubbish-strewn streets, Noel and I both agree to being repelled by the ever-present street garbage.

We pass by a soccer playing field made entirely of dirt. No grass whatsoever.

As we enter the gates of the university, we are pleasantly surprised to find the grounds refreshingly clean and tidy, with real, green grass lawns. We feel our spirits lift.

After obtaining our tickets for the concert from the American faculty members, and as it is still early, we explore the University building and grounds. We also tour a small art gallery. Noel is quite taken with one of the modern paintings.

There is a fine view of Jerusalem from the University. It is well located.

Outdoors, we also come across a series of bronze depictions of Jerusalem at varies stages throughout its history. These depictions show how the city got larger and then smaller, and then larger again. You can see them in the photos below.

It is twilight as we enter the packed auditorium for the concert. Behind the stage, large windows overlook the city.

These BYU concerts, hosted by the Church of Jesus Christ to keep in good standing with the local Jews, are held every Sunday evening.

This appears to be a very high brow audience, evidently mostly Jews. Not overly friendly.

The concert performers are a trio of young Jewish people playing wind instruments.

They put on a professional performance.

The auditorium is very impressive, especially after nightfall with the panoramic back drop of the Jerusalem city lights seen through the large windows behind the stage.

The acoustics are also superb. However the music is unfamiliar except for the last two 4th of July USA Independence day (which is tomorrow) patriotic American numbers they played in honour of their American hosts.

We walk out into the mild night about 10 pm. The lights of Jerusalem look very attractive.

As Noel and I walk home, we see groups of young male Arabs, parked in the streets in their cars or driving like hoons. But there is no evidence anywhere of drinking.

We then hear the wailing Moslem call for prayer. However none of the young Moslem young men seem to pay any attention to it.

Earlier today, our devout Moslem driver Imad said that more and more young Moslems are not living their religion.

I observed the shape of the Palestinian Arab head today and noticed that many of them have one or two bumps high in the forehead. The forehead is mostly straight up and down, whereas the Jewish forehead slopes back smoothly.