A profound, poetic irony unfolds at the lowest point on Earth.
As the Dead Sea steadily recedes, evaporating at a bittersweet rate of 1.2 to 1.5 meters a year, the surrounding community is doing something entirely unexpected. They are growing.
While the shoreline shrinks, the Megilot Dead Sea Regional Council is actively rewriting the region’s future. Armed with fierce local pride, ambitious hospitality plans, and a culinary obsession with the humble date, a new wave of pioneers is turning this vanishing landscape into one of the country’s most vibrant, resilient travel destinations.
The catalyst for this awakening was the Dead Sea March this weekend, a rare annual event that briefly thawed decades of stagnation and opened a restricted, forgotten world to the public. Locals had long waited for this event, they noted, watching it return perfectly timed with fantastic autumn weather.
For decades, one of the most fascinating corners of the Jordan River basin was completely lost to time. Following intense cross-border incursions in 1968, the historic “Land of the Monasteries” was ringed with roughly 3,000 landmines, locking its striking mid-century Christian sanctuaries behind barbed wire.
Though painstaking demining operations finally concluded in 2019, with the stunning Romanian Monastery the last to be cleared, the area remains a heavily restricted military zone.
While the annual march offers a rare, large-scale public opening to walk among these silent facades, the event leaves a lasting legacy for the rest of the year. The regional thaw has begun.
Today, independent travelers who coordinate ahead with military directives can still experience the haunting beauty of this remote frontier – a poignant reminder of a landscape suspended between a volatile past and a hopeful future.
Visitors can admire the beauty of the various churches from the outside, silent witnesses to the area’s long stagnation, a state that may soon thaw and bring the place back to life.
High-adventure tourism
To understand the true magic of the shifting landscape, you have to get out on the water. The receding sea continuously reveals a surreal, evolving underworld of salt formations you can explore year-round.
Nofei Melach (“Salt Landscapes”), operated by Orit and Jackie Ben Zaken, offers 90-minute educational excursions by motorboat: Jackie frequently runs research charters for the Israel Institute for Oceanographic and Limnological Research, meaning his tour commentary on rising salt “chimneys,” underwater sinkholes, and massive mineral “diamonds” – glittering clusters of salt and mineral crystals – is unmatched (NIS 2,500 per boat, up to 12 passengers).
For a quieter encounter, Itay Yisraeli leads intimate three-hour kayaking tours (NIS 450 for a two-person kayak), giving paddlers the personal sensation of paddling across calm, hyper-saline waters. Detailed itineraries are available on the Official Dead Sea Tourism Portal, and you can book directly on the Dead Sea Rider platform.
New tourism hubs
Back on dry land, the tourism infrastructure is gearing up for a massive evolution. “We parted ways with [the] Tamar [Regional Council] and became an independent regional council,” says council head Aryeh Cohen. “They kept the money, and we were left with the challenges,” he adds with a smile.
Building regulations now permit boutique, three-story hotels. About 10 lodging projects are operating or under development near Kalya and the vibrant street-art hub of Gallery -430. Further south at Mitzpe Shalem, an ambitious blueprint aims to bring 1,000 hotel rooms stretching down to the dramatic cliffs of Nahal Darga.
For an adventure right now, Netanel Schlesinger’s Dead Sea Tourism complex near Avnat serves as the perfect base camp.
“The business started with just four bicycles, but it has since expanded into a tourism center offering a variety of activities,” Schlesinger explains. The site features self-guided smart bikes (NIS 100), off-road Rider vehicles (NIS 250), Jeep tours, and luxury glamping caravans complete with private Jacuzzis and plunge pools.
Visitors can also stop by Cafe Barkai, named for the first light to appear in the east, which partners with a local school to serve travelers.
Where the desert meets the plate
You cannot understand the flavor of the Megilot region without understanding the date. Fed by reclaimed water systems, the local date plantations are the lifeblood of the regional economy, and their sweet harvest has become the literal backbone of the local cuisine. These culinary stops are open year-round for hungry travelers:
Cafe -430 at Lido Junction is a charming espresso cart run by area legend Shimshon Chen.
“I never associate a ‘minus’ sign with my businesses,” laughs Chen, who arrived in 1974, when “the sea reached this spot”, meaning the water came all the way to where his coffee cart now stands.
“I had my eye on this area for years, so I approached the head of the regional council with an idea, and he agreed,” he recounts, saying his simple goal was “To create a charming, delightful spot.” Stop by for fresh pastries baked daily at the nearby Almog Junction.
Me Casa near Avnat is the ultimate highway pitstop that effectively “kicks off” the morning for travelers. Owner Gal Hatzor makes everything from scratch, from the pizza dough to the house-ground burgers and slow-cooked steaks.
“Motorcyclists, for instance, come specifically for the asado and steaks,” he says with pride. “The vegetables come from a local farmer, so local produce finds its way onto the plate here, too.”
Don’t leave without trying their radical artisan ice cream flavors, including vanilla with za’atar, pomegranate, and pretzel with dulce de leche and halva. Some call the place “The Checkers House” (Beit HaDamka), but Hatzor clarifies: “It’s actually chess,” a game he's played for years.
Meanwhile, Buza Ice Cream at Lido Junction is the newest outpost of the famous Galilee-born parlor run by Meital and Liron Davori.
“The ice cream is produced in Sasa, in the Galilee, but the flavors have already begun to take on a local character,” they explain. The menu features a “cotton candy” hit for kids and adult-friendly profiles like “Beirut Nights” (pistachio, rose water, and semolina), yogurt with olive oil, and black coffee with cardamom.
Almog Junction’s Chance restaurant, formerly known as “The Last Chance,” is a legendary family-run Tunisian eatery that has operated since 1994.
“The place exists because it’s impossible to get rid of it – and besides, the customers wouldn’t let us give it up,” says Vered Sinai, who runs the establishment with her 84-year-old father, Dani. The design features river-stone pillars, light fixtures crafted from sajs metal cooking utensils used to make pita, and chandeliers made from traditional Bedouin coffee cups.
The menu is a masterclass in date-infused cooking.
“Dates have become an integral part of the menu,” Sinai notes, serving chicken with lemon and dates, date desserts, and date rolls (makroudh). For breakfast, she serves an inventive date carpaccio enhanced with garlic butter, sage, walnuts, and Bulgarian cheese.
“I saw it at a hotel and got inspired... It’s a delicacy,” she says.
A microcosm of change
The northern Dead Sea is caught in a beautiful, fragile state of metamorphosis. It is a place of profound contrasts: a harsh military past melting into a welcoming tourist future; an ecological crisis met with fierce agricultural innovation.
The annual march may have wrapped up, but the momentum it represents isn’t slowing down. To visit Megilot right now is to catch a glimpse of history in motion – to discover the raw, resilient spirit of a region before the grand-scale resort plans are fully implemented on the ground. The map might be changing, but the spirit of this place is firmly anchored.