sighs my guide. The Lebanese may well be romantic. They’re also relieved the war is over, anxious to share their hospitality and desperate to move on from the past.
Though there is still sporadic trouble on the border with Israel, I felt safe in Beirut and if I half-closed my eyes I could see the glittering city of the future rising from its troubled past.
CLINGING to the Mediterranean sea and encircled by mountains, Beirut is a city where the past is locked in battle with the future.
Almost everywhere you turn, bullet-marked buildings – a testimony to the 16 years of civil war that tore Lebanon apart – stand next to gleaming new developments, a vision of a city in the throes of being reborn.
Wandering the streets of the sprawling capital, it’s perhaps the scale of devastation and building work that shocks the first-time visitor.
Weeds sprout up through the cracks of old Ottoman mansions, washing lines heavy with freshly laundered clothes hang from buildings that had balconies which have been blasted away and facades almost destroyed. But below crumbling tower blocks, tradesmen have returned to set up shop, the brand new signs and interiors expressing confidence in the future.
Pockets of glamour that once earned Beirut the name Paris of the Middle East are scattered throughout the capital and are growing fast. Designer boutiques, exclusive jewellers, trendy bars, restaurants and nightclubs are around every corner and blue street signs in French and Arabic add an exotic touch.
Chic young Lebanese breeze through the streets driving expensive cars. And with the world’s largest urban development programme in full swing, the Lebanese hope Beirut will recapture its glittering past.
Standing at what was the heart of the city, around Place des Martyrs, it’s hard to imagine the international jet-set scene of the 1960s.
All that remains is an empty space. This was where the notorious Green Line divided the warring Muslim and Christian factions and it’s around this area that the multi-billion pound regeneration efforts of Solidere, the private company overseeing the reconstruction, are focused.
The scale of the project is overwhelming – it covers 1.8m sq metres, including 60 hectares of land reclaimed from the sea. Much of the work has already been completed – the financial centre, the parliamentary buildings and many hotels have been restored to their former glory.
Open-air archaeological parks reveal the remains of ancient civilisations discovered during the restoration. In contrast, an old-style souk, a grand corniche to rival Cannes, dozens of luxury hotels and an elegant marina are all being built.
New life and energy is everywhere. Even the museum which was shut for years has now reopened displaying treasures that survived shell bombardment thanks to the concrete casing hurriedly put around the exhibits when war broke out.
Many new roads weave in and around the city yet traffic congestion and cratered streets are still big problems. Crossing the road in Beirut can be a hair-raising experience.
“You have to be blind and have courage to drive in Lebanon,” a Lebanese guide told me with a grin.
As I saw cars reversing up dual carriageways and my kamikaze taxi driver screeched an illegal U-turn to a chorus of furious horns, her words rang true.
When not stuck in traffic the Lebanese like to eat – food is an important part of the culture and there’s no shortage of restaurants in Beirut.
Near the American University in the western part of the city, fast-food bars selling kebabs, shawarma sandwiches and fresh fruit juice abound. In the cliff-top restaurants along the west coast families spend hours over delicious mezze admiring the view.
A stroll along the corniche is a relaxing way to see the Beirut people at leisure and escape the chaos of the city.
Towards the western end of the corniche, where the cliffs drop steeply into the water, the immense arched Pigeon Rocks rise from the sea. “People come to watch the sunset, the Lebanese are so romantic,” sighs my guide. The Lebanese may well be romantic. They’re also relieved the war is over, anxious to share their hospitality and desperate to move on from the past.
Though there is still sporadic trouble on the border with Israel, I felt safe in Beirut and if I half-closed my eyes I could see the glittering city of the future rising from its troubled past.
did you know?
1. According to the Bible, Lebanon was the land of milk and honey.
2. Although it is Lebanon’s national symbol, the Cedar tree now grows in only a comparatively few areas.
3. Now in its third year, Beirut hosts a one-week film festival in October.
4. Lebanon is increasingly popular as a winter sports destination. The ski season runs from December to May.
5. The city of Byblos, 25 miles from Beirut, can boast a wax museum among its attractions.
5. In its jet-set heyday in the 1960s, Beirut was known as the Paris of the Middle East.