"It's hard to have a 'favourite' city, island, food etc for me. Every experience, especially in travel, has its own 'flavour' and beauty, so to name one place... I'd say one of my most memorable trips was to Beirut.
The people were friendly and welcoming, the food was delicious, the sites were... visual history and the city has been rebuilt with charm. There were still a few older buildings amid the new sites left derelict with bullet holes as a reminder of the hardship the citizens went through over the years of war and destruction.
There was certainly no sign of war in this city when I visited.
It all began when my dear friend Aisha suggested we all go on a holiday to this magical land. Through many years of hearing my mother speak of the 'Old Lebanon' when she and my father visited... At the time it was called 'The Jewel or Paris' of the Middle East, based on what a fabulous city this was. The site-seeing, shopping... In fact, I recall the twin pink/burgundy, velvet dress with the white lace collar my mother brought me and Hala all those years ago when we were so young.
Now, was a chance to finally visit a city I had literally dreamt about some years before.
Once Hala and I arrived in Beirut, we checked into our hotel where all the 'shi-shi' Lebanese would spend their afternoon by the pool, manoeuvring their latest bodies in the most fashionable bikinis and swimsuits; men and women alike and eye-up one another to see what the latest gossip was. Fascinating.
However, I must add, Aisha had left to book her ticket too late and could only find a seat to arrive a few days after us. She had kindly put us in touch with her adorable sister, Aida, who knew the city well, to meet us on our first night of arrival and direct us to the hottest spots to visit.
The first choice was the Sky Bar, placed at the time, on the rooftop of a tall hotel. I believe the venue has changed place since but is still as hot. So we thanked Aida after meeting us 'downtown', which was all newly built in an elegant old style, at an 'Entrecote' restaurant which served the very special sauce imported from Paris. Aida was loving and went through the whole list she had prepared before we met the latest places to visit.
Our first choice that evening was to take a taxi to the Sky Bar as recommended.
At the entrance to the outdoor bar, stood a man with a 'guestlist' in hand. He began speaking Arabic to us and as we stopped him in explaining we are tourists, he spoke in English and welcomed us into the bar. We looked around at all the dressed up, made up and fun-loving crowd, hearing sounds of laughter; the place was buzzing.
Placing ourselves at the bar, we ordered our cocktails from the friendly bartender who said that place is reserved for us on every night of our stay! The Lebanese charm was already getting under our skin.
Looking at the swimming pool, I noticed a young man in his early thirties, dark in complexion and small-built, in a t-shirt and jeans, wearing a flap cap hiding most of his face, making his way in and sitting on a stool close by. He was sheepishly looking around when our glances met from under his cap. He smiled and I smiled... There was no choice! I approached him and began speaking in English. His name was Mahdi. He told us of his routine visits to Beirut on holiday on weekends and was... what I call... a cool dude.
He most politely invited us to his suite and told us about his life in the US while Hala and I entertained him with our stories of travels. He generously ordered two trays of food from room service which showed further hospitality and we left him packing for his flight back in the early hours of the morning.
After a short sleep, we spent the day by the pool; observing and being entertained by Amro; the George Clooney type of looking boyfriend of a lady lying on a bed behind, so busy in gossip, that she barely glanced our way. Amro happened to have attended the same finishing school in Switzerland as we had, with so many friends in common. He was particularly well-groomed for a man and recommended us his manicurist and wax lady who could come to our hotel room for her services!
On the second night of our visit, we went downtown again to a Latin bar. It was not very busy and we were told the place gets packed later on in the evening. It was about 11 pm and Hala was feeling tired. We noticed a group of about six young men and women dancing to the salsa tunes, with two of the girls in the bar. They were jolly and one of the boys sat next to Hala and began talking.
"And who are you?" Asked Hala.
"Oh! Fadi. I'm your typical Lebanese bastard," were his exact words. "I'm here with my friends." And he directed his look on the rest of the jolly dancers.
We had to leave. There was an exchange of mobile numbers as we headed back to the hotel with a taxi driver who tried to charge us at least three times what we should have paid.
Upon arrival in our room, Hala went straight to bed. But the warmth of the city and its people kept me from sleeping. So... I texted Fadi! He called immediately and offered to pick me up by car at the hotel and take me clubbing. Brilliant.
As I went down to meet him... I must explain that his words of being a 'typical bastard' sounded more like a front to hide his naughty but gentle soul... He sat in an average car (don't ask me what model, I haven't got a clue) in the passenger seat with his very good-looking, toned-up friend Hud in the driver's seat. I opened the back door and sat in the car when I looked up at their smiling faces eyeing me as two school boys in a candy shop!
"So, Haldita, nice to meet you," Hud began the conversation, "what would you like to do? What kind of music do you like?"
"But where are the girls?" I asked.
"They had to go home. They've curfew at midnight," answered Fadi.
I turned to Hud and smiled at that gorgeous 30-year-old face and replied: "Oh! I don't know. Just show me the fun spots in your city. I'm a new tourist. Let's go dancing somewhere with Arabic music."
After discussing a few options between them, partly in English, and partly in Arabic, they came to a conclusion as to where to take me dancing. It was already about 2 am when our quest for clubbing in Beirut began.
They parked the car almost right outside the entrance of a hallway which took us to a high-ceiling club, the walls covered in dark, burgundy velvet curtains, with a large chandelier above, playing what I can best describe as Arabic House music, so much fun to dance to with my new buddies.
We went club-hopping to another spot and finally got in the car at about 4.30 am, the boys seemed a little agitated. Hud said: "Haldita, do you want to see the mountains outside Beirut?"
"No way... Really? I've heard so much about the mountains here." I exclaimed.
"Fadi has a family home in de mountains, we could pick up the keys and go there, but..." Hud, now sitting in the passenger seat, turned to face me, and began: "Haldita, Can I talk open viz you?" Seemed no answer was needed so he continued: "I've an offer for you... You have a choice. You can have us both for sex! Or you can choose, me? Fadi? As you wish."
I simply could not stop myself from bursting out into laughter after a pause of disbelief.
"This is quite an offer, I must say. Can I be very frank with you too? I'm totally flattered and you know this has been a kind of fantasy of mine." I noticed their boyish look of anticipation, as to my reaction in the words that followed.
So I continued: "But sorry boys to disappoint you. I'm not gonna have sex with you. Not with both of you. Not with either of you!" I was still laughing.
"But why?" Hud was on a mission to convince. "You see out of 160 girls, no one ever said no to me!"
"Well, I've news for you, I'm not gonna be no 161 tonight! But why don't you pick up two girls at the next club and we all go to the mountains. Pleaaase. I'd love to see the mountains." Now I was on a mission.
As our conversation of bargaining progressed and Hud's already fit chest grew bigger with pride, I noticed two girls standing on the pavement of the wide street, downtown and a few, mostly white fancy cars standing by them in a queue chatting to them. It was clear that they were working girls, out to choose customers.
I turned towards Hud who seemed quite full of himself by now, ready for a challenge and said: "Com' on Hud, you said you can pick absolutely any girl up. Let's see you in action with the girls here. Show me your skills and pick those girls up. No money."
"Really? Do you want me to pick them up? Have a look." Hud was on a roll.
He uttered a few words to the girls in Arabic. One, small built in a knee-long dress and high heels, her long black hair and fringe had hidden most of her face. The other was more butch-like, in jeans and a t-shirt and short curly hair.
The stronger girl answered something back as I saw them approach our car!
Fadi got out and offered me the front seat while he sat back with the girls. I must have had the biggest smile on my face as they all began talking in English. The small girl never uttered a word and almost fell asleep immediately on the shoulders of her friend; Adara did all the talking.
"I couldn't be bothered viz de assholes tonight." Adara began. "Good to meet you."
We introduced one another and the boys mentioned their plan of driving to their mountain house.
"Absolutely," said Adara, "let's go."
Hud drove and asked questions about Adara's life and what triggered her into prostitution.
"I had a step-father... he raped me as a child. So I ran away from home and followed a destiny which I didn't want. But that's life." Adara explained.
We drove through mountainous roads which were turning dry with patches of green plants scattered across the many high hills we crossed. The morning blue sky fast replaced the darkness of the night.
Hud parked the car, while Fadi got out to open the lock on the barbed gate. As we all stood outside the entrance, the boys struggled with the keys and realised they could not open the lock. So they pulled the partially barbed wire open and let us in, bending one by one, through the opening.
In the middle of a vast piece of land, quite dry in plantation, standing by a tall tree, was an old house on one floor.
The key worked this time and we entered a living room with almost torn damask curtains and a few pieces of furniture as in a Louis ran down sofa, an armchair and a coffee table in the middle. A little dusty, run-down, fading paint, old style grey square tiles on the floor, worn with footsteps over the thirty-something years the family owned the country house.
The small girl headed straight into the first bedroom she came across and took refuge on the bed, falling asleep straight away.
The boys, Fadi laid himself across the antique sofa, while Hud sat on the armchair after Adara had chosen to kneel on the aged carpet, rolling a smoke on the scratched glass coffee table. It was all so surreal. I left them chatting in their native language, while I left the room, into the wilderness of the mountains ahead, the clear deep blue sky, the sun which was now rising from behind the hills in front of my eyes. I looked up at the sky and I prayed.
"I thank thee My Lord for your love. For the openness in spirit, you have granted me. For being open to the adventures life is throwing my way and for sending me the blessing of meeting these good souls who are helping me on my path of growth. How blessed am I?"
The tears of gratefulness covered my happy face.
I came back to the living room when Hud looked at his watch and stood up to say: "It's getting late, let's get back."
Adara left to wake her little friend up and they kindly dropped me at the hotel before going their way.
Never to be seen again.
But the memory of that eventful morning is a video, kept in my memory, for only my eyes to recall and for you to read and imagine.
This was only the second night in Beirut! Seems a whole book can be written of our adventures to follow in the next two and a half weeks to come.
One day... One day... I shall go back to Beirut. Here to follow on the stories still to tell.
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