In 2019, Lebanon experienced one of the worst financial crises of all time. Caused mainly by corruption, the Lebanese Pound saw its value fall by over 90%. So worthless is the currency, US Dollars are used for most transactions.
The crisis left no money to pay for basic public services and, whilst the situation has improved slightly, the national grid can still only power homes for an hour or so per day. The only way to keep power running is with a private generator.
This is just one of the many reasons that Beirut has long been high on my bucket list. This is a city which has been seen more than its fair share of hardship. Less than 30 years before that financial crisis hit, Beirut was emerging from a bloody 15-year civil war.
Evergreen
“This one is triple, that one is double, understand?”, Amigo calmly explains for the third time.
Here in a near-empty bar on a side street off Hamra I’m stood in front of a Darts board for the first time in my life, being guided by a tipsy publican with the patience of a Saint.
Two teams are formed; Amigo and Zaynab, Aman and I and a slow game follows, Amigo pausing play regularly to give himself a safe passage back behind his bar to top us his tumbler of Scotch and line up shot glasses filled with terrifying concoctions for us to try. Each one he denotes “a gift from my house”.
Aman and I rely on grunts and smiles for communication, but no language barrier can stand in the way of our victory.
“Beginners luck” Amigo huffs as I somehow hit the last Bulls eye needed to clean off the scoreboard. Zaynab glares at Aman and he tries to wipe the glum smile from his face.
When the two of them leave, Amigo hands me another beer. He’ll be staying a bit longer in case any more customers come in, I should too, he says. We talk for some time about Lebanon’s turbulent past and the disastrous economic situation. To lighten the mood, he shows me some photos from his time working in Dubai- he was Food & Beverage Manager at the Hyatt Regency in Deira, an achievement for which he cannot hide his immense pride.
“I may be broke now, but I have my health, my bar, my Beirut”. The Scotch may be taking away his control of his legs, but nothing could kill his optimism.
Eventually the few dusty lights flick off, the last of the day’s electricity supply used up, and I walk back along Hamra where just a handful of revellers remain on the terrace of a cocktail bar and a sole workman sits watching the world go by from a twenty-four-hour café.
The Best of Beirut
There are no shortages of anything at the Crowne Plaza’s breakfast buffet. Exotic juices, freshly baked pastries and hot dishes from all over the world set me up for a day exploring Beirut. I walk down Hamra, dodging cars at a set of traffic lights which are switched off and admire the stunning wall art on a block of flats across the road.
I head out, dodging cars at chaotic junctions where there is no electricity to power traffic lights, children grab my pockets and beg “money, Mr, money, just a thousand”. A thousand Lebanese pounds is around five-pence today. There is no telling what it will be tomorrow. These children are not Lebanese; there are over three-million Syrian refugees here, most have no legal status.
Pigeon Rock
There’s a hive of activity going on across the road by a viewpoint overlooking Pigeon Rocks. It’s mostly locals, accompanied by a minibus load of tourists. A stall sells tea from an old urn, though the only customer is a policeman who doesn’t seem to have much to do.
Pigeon Rock is just as impressive as I’d imagined. I walk down to what looks like an abandoned beach club and clamber along the rocky shoreline to get some photos. There’s no one else down here which feels a little sad because the view is amazing.
The Corniche
I climb back up an overgrown cliff path and walk north, along the length of the Corniche. It’s a pleasant stroll, even if the morning sun is making it very warm. There are few people about, but I see the occasional jogger or couple strolling along. I pass beach clubs, a fun fair and a few restaurants.
The main stretch of the Corniche is a lot busier. There are fishermen trying their luck in shallow pools by the breakwaters, groups of friends playing chess on benches overlooking the water and students from the American University studying in the open air.
Reminders of the Past
I reach the Phoenicia Hotel, an Intercontinental which was almost destroyed during the Battle of the Hotels between October 1975 and April 1976. Part of the first phase of the Lebanese Civil War, the battle claimed 500 lives.
The Phoenicia was repaired and reopened in 2000 but the Holiday Inn, on the street behind, was less lucky. It had been open for less than a year when war broke out and still stands, empty, untouched almost fifty years on. Its shell is a stark reminded of Beirut’s history.
I cross the road and head inland to Martyr’s Square. In 1916, during Ottoman rule, martyrs were executed in the square- hence the name. At its centre, a statue commemorates their lives.
Like the Holiday Inn, the statue is an ode to Beirut’s turbulent past. It is festooned with bullet holes, inflicted during the civil war. Huddled against its base, a man begs for money. I hand him a note, but it obviously isn’t enough because he shouts very loudly and waves his arms around at me.
Is Beirut Safe?
I walk until my feet begin to ache. Beirut is a city best explored on foot- the stark contrasts between districts strike me as I wind my way back. It’s only mid-afternoon but Hamra seems to be calling me, its vibrancy has captivated me after just one night.
On the street behind Hamra, I find Café Younes which sums Beirut up nicely. Set in a French colonial building, they sell everything from lavish cakes and coffee to freshly cooked meals, all served in a green courtyard shared with cats.
Here, there are accents to be heard from all over the world. Americans, Arabs and Europeans all chat loudly. Students discuss projects, old friends tell tales and business magnates seal important deals. Every one of them seems to have all the time in the world for another cup of coffee.
It’s a sign that Beirut is rebuilding and a reminder of what was before the war and the troubles. Sitting in Younes’ courtyard, I feel as safe as I have anywhere in the world. No, that’s not fair on Beirut: I feel safer.
Safety in Beirut: A Disclaimer
Since my trip to Beirut, regional tensions in the Middle East have escalated. Overspill fighting from the conflict in Israel has led to many governments advising against travel to Lebanon.
For a while, this advice against travel covered the whole country. The current UK FDCO advice advises against travel to Lebanon’s border regions with Israel and Syria. Beirut is once again considered safe for tourists, but do heed the advice of your government before travelling outside the city.
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