Lebanon
Trip Start
Jun 15, 2006
1
4
8
Trip End
Aug 04, 2006
Beirut, Lebanon
Saturday, July 8, 2006
After a long flight delay in Cyprus, I arrived in Beirut late and had to take a taxi into the city. The taxi drivers were demanding 30 dollars for the trip. I found one that claimed he had a meter -- he didn't. Upon arrival at my hotel, we got into a huge argument because he wanted 30 dollars. I ended up paying him 20 because he lied to me. He was furious. Welcome back to the Arab world. Always negotiate the price in advance -- always.
I stayed in a very cheap hostel the first night that was surrounded by bombed out shells of buildings. It was a bit too far from what I wanted to see, so I checked out and got a room at the University hotel. It's right across from the American University of Lebanon. The rooms were small but nice, and at only 25 bucks a night it was a bargain.
While crossing the city, I got my first impressions of Beirut. Contrast is the word that best describes it. On any given street you can see an abandoned building that was clearly in the line of fire during the civil war; and right next to that building you will see a brand new gleaming hotel, skyscraper etc. On the streets you will see old (classic?) cars cruising around (My taxi was an ancient Mercedes) but you will see just as many brand new SUV's, sports cars etc. Beirut is also very chaotic. It's like the Middle-East meets Mexico. There would seem to be no traffic laws whatsoever. My taxi took off down very narrow 'one-way' streets more than once, and when a car came from the opposite direction he would just throw it in reverse and let the other guy go and try it again. We tried three times on one street before making it through.
After getting cleaned up and having my clothes laundered, I walked the city. I strolled down the corniche and enjoyed the views. The waterfront is not bad in Beirut, but I actually think Abu Dhabi in the UAE is prettier. From there I headed over to the downtown area. Downtown Beirut is probably the starkest contrast you will see between the old and the new. My Lonely Planet book describes it as 'Disneyesque' and I think that's quite accurate. The buildings are artificial Ottoman era replicas. It's so artificial and spotlessly clean that it just doesn't quite feel right. And just on the outskirts of downtown you can still see the bombed out shells of the old city all around.
The next day I had planned to head off to Baalbek -- Roman ruins and the most famous tourist attraction in Lebanon -- but I was tired. The pace on this trip is taking its toll and I had a comfortable room. There comes a point on a long trip where you run the risk of getting 'templed out' or 'ruined out'. If time permits then you can just take a break from it all for awhile -- time does not permit on this run. I skipped Baalbek much as I hated to. Instead, I took a day of rest, more or less, and did nothing more than wander the American University campus, read and catch up on some sleep.
Feeling refreshed the next morning, I decided to see something a bit different. I headed out of Beirut to the Jeita Grotto. The Grotto is a massive set of caves famous for their stalagmites and stalagtites, which are impressive, but I was amazed at just how big the caves are. The ceiling of the cave must have been around 100 feet in some areas. Many of the stalagmites looked like crude sculptures and the lighting in the place gave it an eerie hellish atmosphere. Unfortunately, there was no photography allowed.
My last night in Beirut I decided to take in the nightlife. Lebanon is famous for its nightlife in the Middle-East, but I found it to be very pretentious. The 'Disneyesque' downtown was packed with beautiful and wealthy Lebanese people 'being seen' in the outdoor seating areas. Not really the place for a disheveled traveler who has been on the road for weeks. Even so, I did head into a bar literally called, 'The Hole in the Wall' and ordered a beer. A couple of Lebanese guys --Imad and Joseph--were sitting next to me and when they ordered a round of shots they bought one for me as well. It was absinthe and it was horrible. I tried to buy them a round but they wouldn't hear of it. We talked a bit and I told Imad that I was going to try to go to Syria the next day. He immediately said, 'I hate Syria.' Sometimes, I forget where I am. They were Christians, of course, and it was obvious to me after my few short days in Lebanon that the animosity between the Christians and Muslims is probably just about as strong as ever. The hatchet is far from buried and perhaps the only thing stopping another civil war is the cold reality of how bad things were not long ago. Anyway, Imad and Joseph invited me to the 'Club Cristal'. According to Imad, it's usually very hard to get in but he knew someone at the door. As it turned out, Imad knew just about everyone there. We were taken up to the VIP area where you had a full view of the entire club from a raised seating area. So there I was, wearing a black t-shirt - one of a 3-pack from Wal-mart I think - and a pair of grotty well-traveled pants, and staring down out all the beautiful and wealthy Lebanese from Club Cristal. There really is nothing like traveling.
It was time to leave Lebanon and, as I mentioned, I wanted to go to Syria. I knew that Americans were often denied entry unless you had gone through the Syrian embassy in the USA, but I had to try. I packed up my gear and went to the bus station to try to arrange a ride to the border. It was easier than I thought it would be. A man was flagging down my taxi and shouting, 'Damascus?' before we even got to the station. For 10 dollars he would drive me and a few others all the way to Damascus from Beirut. And he was driving an old Dodge Dart. How much better could it get? I told him I was American and he said there might be problems for me getting in. I didn't care.
There were problems. After stamping out in Lebanon, I arrived at the Syrian immigration office and was told they need to send a fax to the ministry and I have to wait for clearance before they would issue me a visa. 'How long will that take?, I asked. 'Two to six hours', he said. It took six hours. I sat on a bench for six hours and watched people saunter up to the window and happily walk away with a visa in their passport within a few minutes. I had arrived there at 3pm and was walking (My friend in the Dodge Dart was long gone)into Syria at just after 9.
It was all worth it though. I'm typing this from Damascus, Syria, and this bonus country may well turn out to be the highlight of my whole trip.
