Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Don’t Tell My Mother That I Was In Beirut: Episode II

Saturday, 26 December 2015

Oliver and I both wanted to visit Baalbek and we agreed to go together. We asked Talal for directions and tips and Talal obliged us by drawing a very nice map of where to get the minivan to Baalbek. We left at 08:00 and took a minibus (LBP1K) to the Airport Junction where we changed for another minibus whose driver claimed was going to Baalbek. We drove into the mountains as we headed north-east and about an hour later, reached Zahlah. We were told to get off and change for another minibus. Having been told that he would bring us to Baalbek, we were understandably not happy at having to change vehicles but we had no choice. I mean, it wasn’t as if he would continue on the trip anyway. We made a lot of fuss and boarded another minibus. We reached Baalbek 30 minutes later.

There are three main temples at Baalbek: the Temples of Jupiter, Venus and Bacchus. Only the Temple of Bacchus is relatively intact. We spent hours there exploring the site. There’s also a museum and an exhibition hall near the exit. Despite the earlier fuss with the minibus driver, I was happy and satisfied with the visit to Baalbek. We took a direct minibus back to the Airport Junction in Beirut. There was a roadblock on the way back (roadblocks and the patrolling army are a common sight in Lebanon) and we were stopped. We had to produce proof of identification although the chap checking it took a brief glance at mine and waved it away.




We reached Beirut in the afternoon and I went to the dormitory to rest. I was left in peace (my other dorm mate, a girl from Turkey, only returned at 04:50 the following morning while the other dorm mate, a Japanese girl, was only checking in that evening) and watched football. I went down to the first floor where the reception, kitchen, lobby/TV area and men’s dormitories are with the intention of cooking some soup for dinner. It turned out that Talal had been cooking some local rice dish and he offered me some. It was good! (and I didn’t have to cook!) I returned back to the dorm and watch more football, yes, including Arsenal’s punch drunk Boxing Day performance. Grrr!!!

Sunday, 27 December 2015

I had a late breakfast as we were going to Jounieh and Harissa today and Oliver didn’t want to leave too early. We left after 10 a.m. and took a bus to Jounieh. You really have to be patient taking the bus and minibus in Lebanon. The bus/minibus stops every few metres to pick up passengers and doesn’t take the highway flyovers if it can take the normal road to pick up more passengers before re-joining the highway.

The driver dropped us off at Jounieh by the highway and we asked for directions to the Téléphérique. The fare was LBP11K return during the weekends (LBP9K on weekdays). We bought the tickets and went up to the first floor to queue up for the gondola. Minutes later, we stepped out at Harissa and walked to Our Lady of Lebanon. There were a lot of people there today, Christians and Muslims, both enjoying the view and spending time with their families and friends. We spent some time there before going down. We waited about ten minutes by the highway before getting a minibus back to Charles Helou.





Back at the hostel, I had some snack before venturing out to Gemmayzeh. I returned briefly to the hostel to change a USD20 note before walking to Beirut Souks. I returned after 6 as I was still wary of the locals.

Monday, 28 December 2015

I had an early breakfast today and left early. I caught bus no. 15 to Cola Junction (LBP2K) and from there, asked for directions for minibuses to Saida (Sidon). I was planning to go to Sour (Tyre) but there’s no direct buses to Sour from Beirut although there were a few cabbies willing to take me (no thanks, guys). The fare was LBP2K and we reached Saida bus station after about half an hour. I quickly located the bus bound for Sour (also LBP2K) and boarded it. It was another half an hour of pleasant drive along the coast. At Sour, I asked for directions to the Roman ruins. I had to ask a few people before finally getting a chap who spoke English. I think there was another site but I couldn’t find it but I was satisfied with the trip nevertheless.




I then rode the bus back to Saida. The ride back took so long that I dozed off and when I woke, I became anxious and worried that I had missed Saida. I tried to locate landmarks and was relieved when I finally saw one. The bus dropped us all somewhere and the driver told everyone in the bus to board the adjacent bus. I was not happy about this but that’s Lebanon for you and me. Oh by the way, it took more than an hour on the return trip to get back to Saida from Sour when it took only half an hour in the morning.

I got down at Saida bus station and walked back to Château Saint-Louis. There was an admission fee of LBP4K. I explored the Château for some time before boarding a bus back to Cola Junction in Beirut and from there, taking back bus no. 15 to Charles Helou. I got caught in the horrible Beirut traffic jam that evening.




I had a quick dinner then sat in my dorm to watch football. Arsenal were sober this time and we were the New Year numero uno! Alhamdulillah. Now, to maintain that. No pressure, lads...

Tuesday, 29 December 2015

I got up early, showered, performed prayers and finished my packing. I stayed in reading as I had planned to have breakfast after 8. I brought my bag down to the reception after breakfast and checked out, telling Talal I would pay upon my return in the afternoon. I then walked around downtown (a lot of areas are cordoned off by the army though) and then walked all the way up to the American University of Beirut. I’d read about the National History Museum there – it’s the third oldest in the Near East after Cairo and Istanbul - and had planned to visit it as I wouldn’t be visiting the Beirut National Museum (I would need to take a taxi to the National Museum and I wasn’t about to take a cab alone).
  
After the museum, I walked briefly around the campus (there were so many friendly furry cats there! And scaredy ones too) before sitting down at a bench under a tree overlooking the sea. I stayed for an hour before making my way back to the hotel.




I left the hotel after having a light meal and paying for my room. I bought a flat bread with some topping (freshly prepared too) not unlike a pizza and then waited for a minibus to the airport. And waited. And waited. I was still waiting an hour later despite changing locations a few times. There were a few other men also waiting with me all along the street but the minibuses heading our way were all full. I finally asked a driver of bus no. 15 and he gestured to me that I should wait across the street. So I waited along with three others and a minibus came, made a U-turn and gestured to us. I asked if he was going to the airport, ‘Matar?’ and the driver nodded. Another fellow passenger who got on and sat next to the driver also turned to look at me and nodded, ‘Matar.’ So I got on. The minibus was almost full just shortly after and we made our way south of the city. The traffic was bad as usual. People got on and off. We drove on. More people got off. And finally it was just me in the minibus. He looked at me and asked in Arabic. I told him, ‘Matar,’ and he immediately launched into a tirade. I cut him off in English and said, ‘Look, you said you were going to the airport. I asked before getting on if you were going to matar and you said, yes. So don’t turn around and say now that I didn’t state my destination.’ He went on muttering and gesturing angrily in Arabic and finally I snapped back and said, ‘Ok, fine. I said matar, you said matar, I got on and now you want me to get down here. Fine. Why don’t I just walk then? Huh?’ I struggled with my bag and took it down and peeled off a LBP1K note and handed to him. Then I stared at him in the eye and asked the direction to the airport, looked at him again, and left but not before I shouted ‘Baghal!’.

I stalked off in the general direction of the airport (it was a major road, more like a highway actually). I came across a cabbie who offered to take me but as I had run out of the local currency and wasn’t about to use more USD (even if I hadn’t run out of pounds, I still wouldn’t have taken a cab there), I declined. I did ask how far it was to the airport and he said about ten minutes. Fine, I thought, I can manage ten minutes. So I walked on and even passed the army checkpoint, both me and the army police unfazed at each other. Funnily enough I was still approached by cabbies offering me rides to the city when I clearly looked like I had walked a km to the airport.

My flight was early the next morning so after freshening myself up and performing prayers, I sat down to have my bread. I was quite sleepy and managed to doze off for a brief while. I got up suddenly and went to use the bathroom where I encountered a girl who kept looking at me before waving at me. I quickly left. I tried to get some kip but sleep eluded me. Finally at 3 am, I got up and went up to the departure area on the first floor. I had checked out the departure area a few times before and it was lacking seats, there were way too many people and you need to go up another level if you want to use the bathroom (there’s an escalator up but only stairs down); hence why I decided to just stay at the arrivals level until it was time to check in for my flight.

We had to put our bags into the x-ray scan before making our way to the respective check-in counter. To my dismay, there was already a long queue at the Qatar Airways check-in counters and the counters were still closed. And to top it off, there was no bag drop-off counter. What nonsense is this???

I went in immediately after checking in my bag some half an hour later. We were earlier told to go to Gate 3 but it was subsequently changed to Gate 5. I performed prayers at Gate 1 – no, there wasn’t any prayer room at the boarding area – then made my way back to Gate 5. I decided to join the queue and ended up standing for 45 minutes. We were supposed to take off at 05:05 but we were just about to board at 05:00. I fell asleep almost immediately and only got up when I was awakened for breakfast.

We landed at Doha at 10:50 and this time, the transfer process was better. I then made my way to the desk and signed up for the free Doha city tour scheduled for 16:00. We had to meet at the desk at 15:15 though. Then I went to catch up with the world (Internet and wifi service in Lebanon is very slow and most hotels charge for it. I didn’t want to pay for a slow service and hence was offline for the whole time I was there). After prayers, I sat at the TV rest area reading and charging my devices.

The group for the 16:00 tour met up at 15:15 and we were brought to another level to clear immigration. We had our passports checked and stamped and then made our way to the bus. You need a visa to enter Qatar but you don’t need a visa to join the tour so I thought I might as well avail of the service and get to see Doha with the compliments of Qatar Airways and Qatar Tourism Authority. The tour lasted about 2.5 hours and we went to the Dhowa pier, passing the Museum of Islamic Art. Then we continued on to The Corniche, the West Bay area where the foreign embassies are, before stopping at Souq Waqif for an hour. I enjoyed the tour very much. Our bus driver and tour guide were both Nepalese. We got back to the airport at 18:40 and cleared immigration again.




Back at the airport, I went to perform prayers then sat in the Family Room. It was quiet in there but freezing cold. At 23:15, I went to the bathroom to freshen myself before making my way to the gate.

Thursday, 31 December 2015

After a mighty long layover (15 hours and 5 minutes!!!), it was time for me to board the plane home. I somehow managed to catch some kip and woke up twice for the meals. I tried to read but was too sleepy so I succumbed back to sleep.

We landed at KLIA at 13:20, much earlier than the scheduled time of 14:10 (the pilot was actually worried we would arrive late). I went to perform prayers first and when I came out, my bag was still nowhere in sight. There were a lot of pilgrims back from umrah that day. I didn’t have to wait long though; my bag was out some five minutes later and I ran all the way down to the bus station to catch the 14:30 bus back to the city. It was New Year’s Eve and I had anticipated heavy traffic.

I stopped at the Leica store at Avenue K to enquire on compact cameras. They didn’t have any in stock and I would have to order one. A Leica C (very basic) costs RM2,700 *gulp*. Damn you, Beiruti for stealing my Leica!!!

I was home by 17:30 and finished unpacking within an hour. I was already pumping iron that evening and there were a mighty lot of pumping to do too!!!

The end

~~~~~~~~

The world lost a talented genius on Sunday. I didn’t really listen to his songs but I know of him. He may not appeal to everyone, indeed, not many may have understood him. But all the same, we can all learn the following from the late David Bowie:

Be yourself. Be strong enough to be yourself.
Don’t be afraid to express yourself
Believe in yourself
Be confident with yourself
Create yourself
Transform yourself and to hell with what people think.


Requiescat in pace, David Bowie.



Cat with a cattitude