Beirut, Part Two: just what the doctor ordered
Trip Start
Feb 22, 2007
1
24
38
Trip End
Jul 19, 2008
Beirut,
Lebanon
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Appetites sated, we headed further down Rue Monot until we stumbled upon a small square full of bars
a. journey 1
. It was not really that busy given it was a Friday night, but we figured we hadn't reached the main nightlife area yet and so headed to the bar with the most bustle. There, a place called 'Hole in the Wall', our ears were treated to some classic 80s rock (a great way to start any night out on the piss) complete with busty women dancing around a pole on the bar and cold beer on draught. It was just what the doctor ordered after four or so months in Damascus, and even Nancy and Lindsay appreciated it. There we stayed for a couple of hours or so drinking, dancing and yelling "Ohhh, sweeeet!!" every so often when a rock n' roll gem came blasting through the speakers. With the time heading towards the small hours we headed to Gemmayzeh, the main nightlife area of Beirut. Upon our primetime arrival there we were left shocked at how empty it was. Earlier that day we had wandered with a sort of expectancy through the eerie ghost-town that was the downtown area; but this was Gemmayzeh - nightlife central - at peak time on a Friday night. Undeterred, however, we hit up a few bars along the strip and went about our personal missions of drunken fun. All in all we had a really fun night out (mainly thanks to each others' company), but we couldn't help feeling like we'd missed out on the true Beirut nightlife experience, and were left to wonder just how long it will take for normalcy to resume in this self-proclaimed city of fun
a. journey 2
. The next morning we arose gingerly from our drunken slumber and headed down to one of Beirut's many beaches. We had a fun day at the beach, soaking up the sun and wrestling with the unusually large waves in the usually-sedate Mediterranean. That said, the beach was not especially nice and apparently one has to go further south out of Beirut to find the nice ones. Having spent several holidays around the Greek islands, however, I doubt very much if I would be seduced by such beaches, as the Mediterranean this far east tends to have a rather dark and rocky shoreline.
Feeling hungry once more, we headed to McDonalds for a late lunch. Again, the allure of Western junk food after a five-month exile was too strong to resist. Unsurprisingly the food was absolutely awful, but, as I sat back and waited for that familiar post-McDonalds feeling of dissatisfaction and shame to wash over me, I looked out of the window and saw what must be the nicest view from a McDonalds in all the world: nothing but vivid blue Mediterranean and palm trees!
Having returned to the hotel to wash the shame of our McDonalds away with a cold shower, we slipped into something fresh then headed down to Pigeon Rocks for sunset
a. journey 3
. Rising high out of the sea in a small cove by the main shore-side strip of Beirut, the large rocks are a popular focal point for locals and tourists alike who gather for sunset and for the excellent diving/jumping spots off the surrounding cliffs. As we made our way down to the shore, we stumbled upon a bunch of people jumping and diving from great heights off the cliffs and decided we'd come back again the next morning to have a go for ourselves. The sunset when it came was wonderful, seducing us into a captivated silence as it painted Pigeon Rocks in early evening light then surrendered itself to the sea. That night, with our budget depleted, we decided a cheaper entertainment option was to get a few bottles of wine and play cards at the hotel. It wasn't exactly what we'd come to Beirut for but we had a fun time nevertheless, staying up until the wee hours and getting rather drunk. The next day we returned to Pigeon Rocks as planned. I'd never been one for jumping from great heights and, as I stood at the edge of the cliff, I suddenly remembered back to a Spanish holiday some years back when I'd chickened out of a similar jump. "Not this time", I promised myself. I was intent on jumping first, as I knew I'd talk myself out of it otherwise. It was all going fine and I was ready to jump when, all of a sudden our white bodies had drawn a big crowd of locals. I decided I'd wait for the local mob to leave before jumping, but Orphee and Nancy both jumped in the mean time
a. journey 4
. Upon his return, Orphee exclaimed "Ahh Jesus. I swear, I think my ass is bleeding. Look, is it bleeding?". And then Nancy returned with a hobble, announcing that she thought she'd broken her back. So, as Orphee stood there awkwardly, as if he'd just spent a night in a Turkish prison, and as Nancy lay on the ground unable to move for 30 minutes, I lost all stomach for the jump. I instead contented myself by watching the crazy locals diving from all sorts of high and precarious positions. Very impressive.With our return to Damascus imminent, we decided to gorge ourselves on one last fast-food meal: this time, Pizza Hut. Again, it was awful. Again, we felt dissatisfaction and shame. Again, we returned to the hotel to wash away the shame with a cold shower. And with that we left Beirut behind, stopping at the border for one last (definitely the last this time) junk food fix: Dunkin Donuts. Ahh, Boston Crème, it'd been too long. While there, I also managed to pick up an extra-large bottle of Pimms for a mere five quid from the duty-free. Sweeet!
And that was that. Looking back, I'd say that Beirut is my favourite Middle East city so far and definitely somewhere I'd like to spend more time. It's just so fascinating. It's always been considered the bridge between Europe and the Middle East
a. starbucks
. This really shows through both in the culture, the politics and the architecture, and feels as though the city is at once both a triumph of integration and a collection of contradictions. The heavily-rebuilt downtown area, once the focal-point of the civil war, is a good example. It is superficially very elegant with its impeccable faux-Parisian architecture, yet it's so obviously fake that it feels somehow unattractive. And upon these perfectly-kept streets are opulent shops and designer brands, yet the chic customers share the faux-cobbled streets with uniformed soldiers brandishing M-16s. And in the semi-distance, one can see the original Parisian-style buildings which still bear the scars of the civil war. Yet, for all the confusion, it is the politics of this country and its capital that keeps me fascinated. They shape its very existence and they threaten to tear it apart (again), but from my selfish perspective, it's a lot more interesting than the stifled political scene of the Syrian dictatorship. And of course, for all its problems, Beirut and its people maintain a fun-loving persona that creates a true party atmosphere, and I hope and trust this fun-loving spirit will outlive any intermittent war. 
