Oh there's lots to love about Beirut

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After 12 hours in transit involving two buses, three taxis, three different currencies and two border crossings I've managed to arrive in Beirut and what's not to love about the place, except maybe the tanks and machine guns as you drive into town but apart from that it's all good. But getting here was half the fun as always. It all started at 0615Hrs in Amman, Jordan when I caught the taxi who's driver's kids I'm now putting through school. It's Friday which is like their sabbath over here so that was the excuse he used to charge me double. But it made for an interesting discussion on the way to the bus station. Something along the lines of, it should only be 2JD, no it's Friday so it's 5JD, if I was from Jordan you'd use the meter, my daughter is in Australia, mate you're scamming me I'll tell all my friends that Jordan taxi drivers rip off tourists, no it's Friday that's why it's 5JD, no you're scamming me why would tourists want to come to Jordan if you rip them off, I like Australians, no you're scamming me etc etc. The bus ticket to Damascus was only 8JD so go figure.

The bus trip across from Jordan to Syria was uneventful apart from the border crossing where the driver left out the minor detail that the non-Jordanians had to get off and walk through Customs to get our exit/entry stamps, once that was sorted it was all good. Fortunately I managed to exchange some JD for Syrian Pound last night which made the task of putting the Syrian taxi driver's kids through a private school much easier. The bus from Jordan conveniently stops nowhere near the bus you need to catch to get to Lebanon. Using my finest Arabic skills by speaking in English I discover that the bus station I need is across the other side of town. Fortunately there's a superb reconditioned Lada taxi to take me there. He's tricked it up a little with electric mirrors and power windows, too bad he didn't spend the extra on the seatbelt that he insisted I wear as he might have been able afford the buckle as well! After the mad dash across town including the shortcut of going down the on-ramp the wrong way I handed over 500 Syrian pounds, clearly my attempts to say where's the bloody change in Arabic was misunderstood and off he went to book his kids into a private school for the rest of the year.

After running the gauntlet of all the service taxis who were offering me an incredible deal to cram into a minibus for the trip to Beirut I managed to get into the ticket office for the bus. Out of all the flash five star coaches I managed to select the school bus that was masquerading as an international coach, but it had aircon and set me back the princely sum of 400 Syrian pounds to get me to Beirut. Fortunately there was four French tourists that were last minute additions to the bus which made the whole task of leaving Syria and getting the Lebanese visa a bit easier. To leave Syria you have to pay 500 Syrian pounds, but the catch is you go out the front of the Customs building to the drink stand to buy the departure tax. This bit wasn't exactly in the tourist brochures that I had read I can assure you. After driving for what seemed forever you reach the Lebanon border where you get off the school bus again and avoid all the money changers to get in the door. Then they tell you that you need to pay for your visa in Lebanese Pounds. Fortunately the Customs guys on the border are a bit above the norm and have an abundance of personality. Not only do they tell you the exchange rate but advise you not to get ripped off. Sure enough Mr Dodgey money changer was making up his own exchange rates as he went along. After a bit of prompting and hanging onto his money and mine we came to an agreement as to what the rate should be, so back to the friendly Customs guy I go. After a bit of a chat about Montreal and why would I want to go to Syria (well it's the only land border currently open between Lebanon and the rest of the world) I get the 15 day visa and am allowed into the country.

And it's been a world of happiness since I've arrived, the taxi driver charged a fair rate to drive me halfway across town. The hotel that I had booked the night before but hadn't managed to confirm had a room waiting for me. The restaurant across the road from the hotel has a fabbo atmosphere and serves great food. Not to mention the waiter who was keen to improve his english and gave me all the good mail on what to see and where to go, although he did mention Tripoli which is off my list. After 12 hours sitting on two buses and crossing two borders it's been definitely worth it.

Lebanon is an interesting place for many reasons, it's a small place and as one of the locals told me everyone wants a part of it. Sure it's had a few issues over the years but at the moment I'm feeling pretty safe. The biggest risk I've got is being run over as I cross the road I've been to a few insane driver places around the world and this one is definitely in the top 5. One of the other things that I've found a bit bizarre is that the ATM give you a choice of withdrawing your money in USD or Lebanese Pounds. Everyone here is happy to accept either as well with most bills showing what you need to pay in USD and Leb Pounds. It doesn't even phase them when you pay in a mixture of both. Although having access to USD has made building up the cash reserves ready for the non-ATM countries (Syria and Iran) much easier.

The other intriguing thing about the Lebanese is that a lot of them speak Arabic, English and French. This is due to the checkered history of who has been around these parts. Here's me struggling with English half the time and I'm surrounded by people who are happily chopping and changing between Arabic, English and French in the same conversation. Talk about making a man feel a little inadequate, but it does make for an interesting time. The nightlife is something else to behold although the trip to the bar part of town was a bit of a challenge. Having set off on foot to Gemmayze where the bars are in after a while I decided that a taxi could be a good option. The taxis here are best described as a Mercedes that has been out of the factory for a little too long. Meters are clearly an optional extra but the driver smoking isn't, but at least he offers you one. Unfortunately the taxi and driver I chose was not the best as we circumnavigated the city as the driver asked a variety of people, soldiers other taxi drivers where the street was I wanted to go to. We even managed to go past it once so on the second pass we stopped and started the mexican standoff of how much I was to pay him for the very unguided tour of Beirut. All ended up good though as the taxi driver that took me back to the hotel much later managed to instill some confidence into me regarding the Beirut cabbie. But the journey was well and truly worth it.

The bar scene is just amazing, in just over a block and a half of Rue Gouraud there's about twenty little bars that have their own little personalities. Most of them are the size of a shoe box with a few the size of a terrace house. This makes for an interesting stroll along the street, up until now I thought that Dublin was the place for a nightlife, but Beirut wins hands down. The only downer about the whole thing is that smoking is still very much part of the culture here so every bar is smoke filled. Except for the one that I discovered by accident on the way out of Rue Gouraud which was the top floor of a restaurant that was open on one side. Centrale is a little different in that you catch a lift to the top floor and then you are in this open sided cylinder that has one long bar along the length of it. The other fave for the evening was Pronto, not much bigger than my bedroom but filled with atmosphere.

Sunday is the day where everyone dresses up and goes to lunch with their family and friends. Well everyone except for the Aussie tourist who thought that the non-designer t-shirt, cargoes and thongs would be a pleasant change. Yep I succeeded in not blending in with the locals at all, but it still made for an entertaining day lunching and then sitting in a trendy cafe people watching, oh well I enjoyed myself. Unfortunately for my last night here I've had to move rooms in the hotel to the suite, the bonus is that I'm getting it for a special rate of USD65 as opposed to USD35 I was paying for the budget room a few floors down. In the morning it's back on the road to Damascus again although I will be missing Beirut, it's been the favourite place so far.

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Photos

The Corniche
You could be anywhere in Europe looking at this, oh except for the Holiday Inn with the shell holes in the background.

The InterContinental Phoenicia with the Holiday Inn in the background
I did have a better photo than this but the security guy from the InterContinental came across the road and firmly but politely suggested I delete it in the interests of security.

All the streets have French names, although the signs don't have the streets name on them!
Talk about how to confuse you, luckily every now and again they put the street's name on one, but it's a rare thing.

You guessed it another Roman ruin
This time it's in Beirut

AUB the American University of Beirut
When I went for a wonder around the grounds I had to leave my passport at the front office.

Finally found a good use for a Mini
Little brother will appreciate this one!!