Salt of the earth

IN THE Dead Sea, it requires something of a leap of faith take your feet off the stony bed and allow the gravity-defying water to take control of your body. The salt content is such that you are lifted to a horizontal position and given a feeling of weightlessness usually afforded only to astronauts.

At first, it is a daunting prospect. But putting trust in an invisible force seems quite apt when on a tour of the Holy Land. You may not be walking on water, but you can certainly float effortlessly.

Serenity is not something most Britons would necessarily associate with Israel. With threats against the state made by neighbouring countries, and the horrific events of Gaza 2009 still fresh in the mind, Israel is, by some, painted as an unstable place not yet ready to welcome tourism.

From my experience, this could not be further from the truth having spent a part of a week on a tour which offers an all-encompassing exploration of the country. It takes in thousands of years of history and hundreds of miles of travel.

I went on a bite-size, four-day version of the tour, but still managed to visit sacred city Jerusalem, modern metropolis Tel Aviv, and the ancient sites of Masada, Acre, Jaffa, Caesarea and Haifa.

The trip offered something special for everyone in our group, even though our ages ranged widely.

In our spare time, we could shop in new boutiques or time-old markets, go for drinks on the beach or a dance in a club. The food, whether from a street-side vendor or restaurant chef, always hit the mark. I fell in love with hummus and falafel.

The spine of our visit was a guide of Israel’s historic and important sites, led by Opher, a smart and funny Israeli who once gave Kabbalah-follower Madonna a private tour of the Wailing Wall.

First up was the ruin of Masada, a 2,000-year-old triple-layered fortress constructed on the orders of super-builder King Herod and ransacked by the Romans some years later.

It’s on top of 400m-high cliffs and requires a trip in a cable car to reach the highest plateau. From here, there are incredible vistas out onto the never-ending desert. Amazingly, the walls of the bathhouses were still in part lined with the original burgundy tiles.

After a sizeable shnitzel lunch in the café, we were driven, in an air-conditioned minibus, to the banks of the Dead Sea nearby. I rubbed a couple of dollops of mud on myself – the done thing, I was told – and stepped slowly into the cool and strangely oily waters.

A bit of a black humour ensued when one of our group tried to swim on his front but misjudged the hip-raising effect of the salt and splashed around uncontrollably for a number of seconds before regaining his composure.

Opher had earlier told us people had drowned after being taken by surprise in the sea.

That evening, we dined at the rooftop restaurant of the five-star Mamilla hotel in Jerusalem. The steak was sublime and our table had a tremendous view of Jerusalem’s Old City.

Our second day was the high point of the trip, walking within the walls of the Old City and around all four of its quarters: Jewish, Muslim, Christian and Armenian.

As an atheist, the religious significance of the area took second place for me to its phenomenal historical importance.

But walking among Jews at the Wailing Wall, while hearing the Islamic call to prayer ringing out, it was impossible not to be moved and to feel a sense of raised spiritual expectation.

Earlier, Opher had shown us the south-west edges of the Temple wall, which included some magnificent biblical-era architecture.

The warming midday sun had provided the perfect light in which to view the impressive pillars and archways.

Later, we travelled the route Christ took to crucifixion and, after winding our way through labyrinthine alleyways full of people and traders, we entered the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which houses the spot where Christ died.

People were allowed to reach down and touch the point the crucifix entered the ground and go into the aedicula which was built on top of the tomb where Jesus was resurrected.

It was clearly an emotional place for many.

That night we ate at the beach-front Dan hotel, in Tel Aviv. Being the Sabbath, all the buffet food had to be prepared in advance and kept warm, but the taste of a speciality mulard dish was still fresh and light.

The final full day saw us drive north. We travelled through Haifa, stopping off at the pristine Baha’i Gardens, before reaching Acre, a fort in Crusader times.

As we walked through the city’s system of underground passages, Opher told us how they had only been unearthed after a woman called in plumbers to deal with faulty pipes.

As workers dug down they chanced upon the huge network that had once been used as escape routes for soldiers.

A lunch of shawarma – kebab chicken in a pita – was followed by a trip to Caesarea, a port originally built by King Herod and ransacked many times by invading forces. Still standing is the Roman theatre and the stadium that hosted chariot races many centuries ago.

Back in Tel Aviv, we tried the night-life which is labelled “lively”. The city certainly caters to many tastes. We left a dub-step club with free entry (but high-priced cocktails) at around 1am, just as many revellers were joining the outside queue to come in.

The final day saw us touring Tel Aviv, and its Bauhaus buildings, and Jaffa, the ancient port city famed for its flea markets, before breathlessly boarding a flight home from Ben Gurion airport.

It was on the plane that, for the first time in four days, I could take stock. Probably nowhere else on earth could I have had such remarkable experiences in such a short time.

The full tour also takes in the Sea of Galilee, Jericho and Nazareth. Those who go should prepare for a chock-a-block week.