When I visited Lebanon in the end of 2018, I never got around to writing about the trip on the blog. Not because I didn’t like the visit – I adored the country – but sometimes the right moment passes and you think you can no longer do justice to your emotions and experiences. I always half-hoped I would return to the topic at some point, although I never imagined it would be in circumstances like this.

Beirut has been on my mind for obvious reasons. The devastating explosion and its heartbreaking consequences are bad enough, but thinking that all of this could have been avoided… I know it’s useless to expect life to be fair, it just seems especially cruel that a city and a country that have been through so much already have to handle this unnecessary tragedy on top of everything else. The hotel I stayed in two years ago is close to the waterfront and now damaged, although fortunately no-one there was seriously hurt.

It’s not what I wanted to write about, however. This region of the world tends to be in the news mostly for negative reasons and I wanted to recall Beirut how I encountered it: sunny, charming and full of life.

The way I pick travel destinations often doesn’t make sense to other people. My desire to go to Lebanon was largely based on my obsession with the Phoenicians. This obsession in turn grew out of two things: my admiration for the fact that they invented the alphabet (it’s more complicated than that, but still) and the high ranking of Carthage in my personal top of ancient empires. This is not the time nor the place to analyse my unhealthy fascination with empires, but Carthage has always been one of my favourites, for their love of trade and a rather relaxed attitude towards controlling other people. And Carthage, obviously, had its roots in what’s today’s Lebanon, Tyre and Sidon in particular. 

Beirut is not among the most prominent Phoenician cities, its rise came later, but I fell for it immediately. I love places that have complexity, different layers, contradictions, and Beirut has that in spades (obviously, the entire country with its mix of religions and cultures and the absolutely insane political system makes most places look straightforward). With its wine bars and cafes and night clubs it’s a modern, cosmopolitan city, while the history is always present: the Phoenicians, the Greeks, the Persians, the Romans, the Ottomans, the French – you can still largely get by speaking the latter’s language. Very roughly speaking, the city is half Muslim, half Christian and it was interesting to observe my tiny, rigid European brain trying to remember that fact and reconcile it with what I subconsciously think Muslims and Christians look like. 

It is arguably one of the best places in the world for eating: I was absolutely expecting to love moutabal and shawarma, but also fell hard for Lebanese desserts. In Beirut, it’s easy to find one of my favourite dishes in the world, the Armenian lamb meatballs in sour cherry sauce (incidentally, it’s also the dish that my daughter declared to be the most disgusting thing in the history of the universe, after I made it at home). And while my French and Italian friends might look at me funny, I still declare my love for the Lebanese wine any chance I get – I like wine that has FLAVOUR. Every wine we drank during our stay was excellent and I still think about the two bottles I bought at Souk el Tayeb, an organic farmers market that gives other hipster markets of the world a run for their money. This is also where I found, entirely by chance, the best olive oil I’ve ever tasted.

Beirut is perhaps not the city that will take your breath away with its beauty, but it has character and depth. Gleaming skyscrapers tower next to quarters damaged in the civil war; there are luxury boutiques minutes away from areas that are rather shabby; interesting, hyper-modern buildings and the art nouveau and art deco influence both make an appearance. My favourites were, however, the gorgeous town houses (many unfortunately no longer in the best shape) that are a mix of European and Ottoman influence, a style that hits exactly my sweet spot. It reminded me of Sicily and Southern Spain, two other places where the civilisations mingled with aesthetically pleasing results. 

There is also the sea – we didn’t swim in it, because it was officially winter, despite the constant 29 degrees. We did a boat tour on the bay, however, which provides spectacular views of the city and the Pigeon’s Rock. There seemed also to be more art galleries than I had ever seen in anywhere in Europe and an extremely high percentage of good-looking men: I usually mostly notice women and for me to pay attention to the guys means they really had to be uncommonly attractive. 

I know that there were two things I did not like during my time there: one was the traffic (which is truly, unapologetically horrible) and I have forgotten the other. I would, however, gladly brave the murderous streets of Beirut if I could only go back, even for a day. The Uber drivers there, by the way, are the nicest in the world.