Mornings in the desert are always sublime. The light of the dawn begins earlier because it appears far in the distance unobstructed by trees. Eventually, after an indeterminate amount of time, the sun rises and the mountains take on special shapes as the shadows move and dance amid the dry wadis and ridge lines.
In the desert between the southern city of Arad and the ancient Jewish fortress of Masada, this time of day is unique. Arad is built on a promontory – a raised mass of land that projects into a lowland. Below it, a single track road cuts through the desert, like a strange khaki line that takes on the glimmer of a long snake in the morning. The road winds its way through a long valley that is itself bisected by a dirt road and bike paths. There are small clusters of houses on the southern side of the road where Bedouin live. Then there is a large explosion of greenery.
This is Kfar Hanokdim, a place to stay, to have fun, and to enjoy a weekend with family.
What is Kfar Hanokdim?
Kfar Hanokdim evokes the Bedouin heritage of the area, with its large Bedouin-style tents and earthy feel, carved out of the desert and at one with it. It also feels like an oasis, with numerous palm trees creating a kind of wall around the place and the harsh desert outside. Inside the oasis there is a variety of tented accommodation options, as well as small rooms for rent that have air conditioning. The variety of lodgings is overwhelming, so it takes several visits to get familiarized with all of them. I’ve come here several times and each time, the place seems to expand a little more.
On one side of the compound is a giant tent that is divided into several sections, with long wooden tables. The tent is open on the southern side so that the desert, with that one road stretching to Arad, is visible. There is a fig tree; breakfast and lunch are served in the large tent. This morning, the breakfast consists of hummus, salads, hard-boiled eggs, several types of cheese, and a variety of fruits and dates. Large containers provide lemonade, orange juice, and hot water for coffee. You get the feeling that you’re on a large, organized camping trip.
OUTSIDE THE dining tent there is a large courtyard where kids are playing. During the day, this area has a number of activities for children. They can paint, fill small plastic bottles with colored sprinkles, or get their hair braided. People can go hiking or take bike rides. There are several large maps that showcase the region’s walking and hiking trails to various canyons and springs. There is a store that sells a variety of hats and shirts, as well as drinks and some snacks.
This living oasis is home to a number of donkeys and camels, and camel rides are on offer. Families can learn about the camels and other animals. Near the camel paddock are other areas for camping. This weekend, some large families have come, taking over whole sections, with masses of food, and children flying kites at dusk.
At night, the vacation village turns into a playground for kids. People play soccer and run around with night lights. There are also activities such as a tent for dancing, and a whiteboard at the entrance announces a trip to look for scorpions. You have to wear closed shoes.
IF YOU take the single road that leads from Arad in the other direction, you’ll reach the ancient fortress of Masada. Approaching Masada from this direction is different than coming up from the Jordan Valley, where it looms amid the ramparts of the high hills that form a kind of wall above the valley.
Driving there from above, Masada still looms because it is set apart from its surroundings. It is here that one can understand why it was chosen as a palace and later a fortress, standing alone amid the mountains and hills. It’s a singular shape, this strange plateau. The Romans built their ramp on this side using slave labor. The fortress couldn’t be taken from the other side; even from this side, it took a long siege.
As you sit on the hills above Masada, it’s hard to imagine what it must have been like for those laying siege to it. The Roman soldiers would have been weighed down by armor, and during the day it became very hot. There’s no water, and the desert is barren; every living plant turns to dried, petrified, sinewy fragments. There’s no shade from the beating sun. The defenders would have had buildings and areas to shelter in, but those laying siege would have had to sit here and wither away.
THE VIEW overlooking the Jordan Valley is beautiful. It is laid out here like you’re looking at it in map-like form or from Google Earth. The diminishing Dead Sea is also visible. The sea is a slow-moving ecological disaster, as successive Israeli governments have refused to bring more water to it and allowed it to shrink. This is not due to lack of resources: Israel has known about this problem for decades. It is a conscious decision to not do anything.
Seeing the Dead Sea from above rather than down in the Jordan Valley illustrates in heartbreaking detail how much the sea has been shrinking. It’s obvious how it once filled the area below. Now the southern part of the Dead Sea is bisected by ridges. The earthen section that separates the southern part from the northern part, which are joined by a small canal, continues to grow as the sea recedes. I turn away from this disaster; it’s beautiful here, but it’s too tragic to watch.
The sun is setting now. Sunset in the desert is as special as sunrise. The desert becomes still. The birds become quiet. There is a light wind. The shadows on the hillsides move again forming shapes, until the sun is gone and only the wisps of clouds are illuminated, changing color from yellow to orange to deep red and then purple – and then darkness falls.