We slept OK last night, but a lot of tooting and loud cheering out on the street awoke me in the early hours of the morning. I hoped we weren’t going to have a revolution. But it quietened down again, so I went back to sleep.

We were awakened about 5 am by roosters crowing. However both of us felt refreshed.

Another clear sunny day outside and pleasantly warm, as is every day during summer in this Mediterranean climate.

We enjoy a very nice, help-your-self continental breakfast in the hotel. Tomatoes, small cucumbers, eggs, thick yoghurt, a type of tasty cinnamon and turmeric bread with a smear of olive oil. We finish off with natural orange juice.

I felt really good afterward, although I don’t normally have breakfast, just a mid-morning fruit.

Our booked tour for today is from Beirut, down the coast southward, through ancient Sidon and Tyre to the closed border with Israel.

Our guide meets us in the lobby at 8-30 am. She is a single girl aged 34 and her name is Nadine. She is plump which is unusual, but has flawless olive skin, black hair and a nice smile. (Very few Lebanese women dye their hair, and the ones that do so, usually a light brown colour, seem to lose their exotic appeal and look like western women.)

Nadine also has the very even teeth and large attractive eyes which seem characteristic of most Maronite Christian Lebanese women.

Nadine leads us out to our male driver Bassem Doue (pronounced Dow), also a Maronite Christian, probably in his late 30’s. He is driving a 1998 Silver Mercedes C320 taxi, his own car.

Bassem is a portly, placid, smiling man with a refined voice and excellent driving skills. (You need to have excellent driving skills in these lunatic driving conditions.) Bassem speaks reasonably good English but does not understand it well when spoken to.

Nadine has good English skills, but even so, many times she did not understand at first what Noel or I were saying to her. She has a cheerful, pleasing feminine personality and a traditional view of male and female roles.

We first of all drive through Beirut, past numerous apartments. We see no houses, lawns, or garages, just an occasional mansion. Old cars are parked everywhere (no parking meters anywhere), and old and newer cars are driving everywhere. A city of nearly two million on the move.

Officially the city and whole country is 50-50 Christian–Moslem, but Nadine tells us, that because Moslems have much larger families (Moslems regard it as an honour to have a large number of children) in reality there are now many more Moslems. However, so as not to upset the balance of power, no census has been taken for decades. (The American CIA estimates the population of Lebanon to be 60% Muslim, 40% Christian.)

Both Nadine and Bassem (who has three children) were critical of the large families of Moslems and said that they do not look after their children well.

I was later to observe that the Moslem parents I saw in our hotels, seemed to treat their children exceptionally well. The husbands also seemed to treat their wives with great consideration, and the wives mostly looked a picture of serenity. You can tell Lebanese Moslem women from Christian women as they always cover their hair. We only saw Saudi Arabian women wearing a full face veils and they were always dressed in black from head to toe.

We soon leave Beirut and drive on down the coast. We pass by brown sandy beaches and fruit stalls, heading towards the ancient Biblical port town of Sidon. (Pronounced sy-din.)

I am in the front with Bassem and Noel in the back with Nadine. Noel doesn’t trust the Lebanese drivers and always prefers to sit in the back.

On the way to Sidon, we stop at the beach where traditionally Jonah was deposited by the whale who had swallowed him. We needed to ask permission to pass through a private resort to reach the beach. Nadine asks Bassem to do this. It is evidently not a woman’s role to do such things.

We pass by a large power station that was sabotaged numerous times by the Israelites in the past when they occupied Southern Lebanon. No doubt part of the reason the Lebanese have no love for Israel.

We soon arrive in ancient and busy port town of Sidon. We see old Roman ruins on the beach.

Bassem parks in the centre of the town. There are old dilapidated cars parked everywhere. Men are sitting out on the footpaths on seats, smoking hookah water pipes.

Pleasantly warm. No wind. Not a cloud in the blue sky.

We get out of the car and Nadine takes Noel and I on a walking tour of the Sidon Souk Market. This is a winding labyrinth of stalls, small shops, narrow alleyways and tunnels under and among the ancient stone homes of Sidon. There are all kinds of goods, clothing, fabrics and foods for sale. Also nowadays, a lot of cheap imported Chinese trinkets.

We visit a bread bakery that is a hot, dark, hellhole with a deafeningly noisy, smelly diesel compressor chugging and clanking away indoors. Noel can’t get over the atrocious working conditions.

Nadine obtains for us some free samples of their bread. This is the same Cinnamon type loaf that we had for breakfast in the hotel. We eat it as we walk on further. Very nice.

Noel draws my attention to the appalling electrical wiring above. An OSH official would have a heart attack in this place.

We stop at a tiny bulk food shop and buy a bagful of almond nuts. This little shop is chocker-block to the ceiling with basic foods, beans, grains, nuts, etc. Like most of the other shops is only about the size of a bathroom. There is not even room enough room for the shop keeper to sit down.

There seems to very little factory-processed food on sale in Lebanon.

We also come across a Lebanese butcher shop. Very rare. The only obese person we see all day is this woman walking into the butcher shop.

Because there are no flies (probably due to there being no rain in the Mediterranean summers) the meat can be left out all day hanging.

Within the Souk we also visit an ancient church and monastery where Paul the Apostle is said to have preached. Reeked of atmosphere in the gloom inside.

We next do a very interesting tour of an ancient soap factory. Quite an eye-opener. The pictures below show the steps to soap making.

We also tour a small museum attached to the soap factory.

The thick twigs below are ancient toothbrushes and are still used in poorer parts of the world. They become stringy and fibrous with use.

Also on display are countless smoking pipes that have been excavated. The sign says that some of these pipes are 5000 years old. I didn’t realise smoking went back that far. They were evidently used for smoking hashish.

Next we enter a courtyard. This courtyard feels so typical of the Middle East. It is now a memorial to Hariri, the ex and well respected Prime Minister of Lebanon who was assassinated late last year (2004) by a car bomb in Beirut.

On the walls of the courtyard buildings are large colourful pictures of his life and the bombing.

Hariri was a popular man, a Moslem, and largely responsible for the current peace and renewal of Lebanon. Nadine, who is very anti-Israel, blames his bombing on the Jews. However, as we learn more about this much talked about event in the days ahead, it is obvious that Syria was the only nation who stood to gain from the act.

They evidently hoped to once more divide Lebanon and reclaim some of their lost power. In actual fact it had the entire opposite effect and has unified both Moslems and Christians.

Hariri’s son Saad is now Prime Minister. Nadine is rather scathing in her opinion of the ‘dishonest character’ of the son. On my further questioning as to the father Hariri’s character, she says that Hariri himself wasn’t as noble as most people now remember him. And that his martyrdom has glossed over some of his failings, but her people needed a hero.

When we come back out of the Souk market area, we see a Moslem mosque across the road.

Then we walk down to the port area of Sidon with its numerous fishing boats.

Up on a building we see an election poster with a picture of Hariri and his son Saad. Saad has just been re-elected as Prime Minister of Lebanon. (They also have a Christian President, Emile Lahou, to maintain the balance of power. He is however pro-Syria and is under pressure to resign since the assassination.)

Bassem then picks us up in his Mercedes and drives us a little further south down the coast, to the ruins of an ancient Phoenician and Roman city.

We first walk through the adjacent burial city. These burial cities were sometimes more lavish than the main cities nearby. This one covers a large area.

The 2000 year old Roman road that runs through both the burial and the main city is still in good condition.

The burial city is full of thousands of stone tombs and stone burial coffins like these below.

We then walk further on and through where the main city once stood. It is now getting quite hot, especially out in the glaring sun, reflecting off the light coloured stone and ground.

We see the remains of an old Roman aqueduct that carried water to the main city.

Next we come to the chariot racing track. This looks just like a giant New Zealand stock car track, probably twice the diameter of the Palmerston North track. They even had a stone grandstand, with cool rooms inside. There are also remains of ‘corporate boxes’ on the top.

Noel and I sit up on the stand and Nadine takes our photo. It must have been quite a spectacle to see the chariot races held here.

Then, just to add to the moment and the exotic atmosphere around us, we hear the haunting, mid-day Moslem call to prayer from a distant mosque through the trees. This lasts for about 5 minutes.

Very memorable moment for me. It created in me a sense of the timeless rhythm of life and religion in this part of the world.

As we leave for the long walk back to Bassem and the car, we pass through a gang of unsmiling, silent, Arab ‘terrorist type’ workmen. They are inside a ruin that they are renovating. They seem a little hostile toward us. Not one smile. Perhaps we interrupted their prayers, but they don’t look like praying types.

Nadine tells me that only about 50% of Lebanese Moslems heed the call to prayer, just as only 50% of Lebanese Maronite Christians attend Mass.

I asked Nadine what the wording of the Moslem call was. She said, "They quote from the Koran saying ‘Allah is Great. There is no greater prophet than Muhammad.’ And repeat it over and over."

(I thought there was probably more to it than that, so I have since obtained the full wording in English, which is as follows:)

God is most great. God is most great. God is most great. God is most great.

I testify there is no god except God. I testify there is no god except God.

I testify that Muhammad is the Messenger of God. I testify that Muhammad is the Messenger of God.

Come to prayer!  Come to prayer!

Come to salvation!  Come to salvation!

God is most great. God is most great.

There is no god except God.

This prayer call is sounded five times a day.

    3. Mid-way between noon and sunset.

    4. At sunset.

    5. Before bed (about 9:15 pm).

Click here to hear the call again.

Bassem has parked his car in the shade under a small tree. Nadine seems weary after her long walk.

Nice to get back into the air-conditioned car.

We now drive further south, towards the blocked off border with Israel.

This area is 100% Moslem. All the women have their hair covered, and all the shop signs are in Arabic. I see an occasional woman dressed all in black and ask Nadine why this is so. She replies, "They are widows."

This is obviously a poor and run down part of Lebanon. There are many small car repair workshops, no doubt necessary to keep the old cars running. There is also more litter than normal on the roadsides.

We even pass through a town with a giant mountain of trash in the main street. Nadine explains that all the garbage in this region is brought here for dumping, but they have now run out of places to put it.

So the mountain just keeps growing bigger and bigger. I don’t feel comfortable asking Bassem to stop so I can take a photo of the trash mountain. He and Nadine seem ashamed of it.

The purpose in coming this far south is to see a grotto cave to the Virgin Mary and some rock carvings. Probably also to buy some souvenirs off the bookseller there.

All of our guides on this trip take us to over-priced souvenir shops where they obviously receive a percentage of tourist sales. (The same thing also happens in New Zealand.) This can however be useful to see what is available to buy locally. (You can always buy on the streets for a fraction of the price.) But is embarrassing for the guides, who are often under pressure to lie. It is also demeaning for the tourist who feels treated like a naïve fool. (Noel and I became fed up with this towards the end of our Middle East trip.)

As we drive further South, Nadine speaks to me of the findings of a local religious researcher who places the Biblical town of Cana, where Jesus did his first miracle of turning water into wine at a wedding feast, as being in Lebanon instead of Israel.

I am skeptical, so when we get to the grotto she buys me a booklet copy of this researcher’s paper and gives it to me. I thank her for it. (When I studied the paper after I got back home, also the traditional evidence for the Israel site, I realised that this researcher had a solid case and the proponents of the Israel Cana had a very weak case. Both towns (the Lebanese one called Kana is now a ruin) are both within walking distance of Nazareth. There was of course no border in those days.

To get to the grotto we have to walk down into a barren valley. This whole area is very barren indeed.

The grotto turns out just to be a cave with a little Virgin Mary icon and some candles.

The carved rocks are so crude it is hard to discern what they were meant to be. Not impressed at all.

We now turn around and drive back up north, the way we had come, to visit the ancient Biblical city of Tyre.

Nadine asks us to decide if we will have lunch first in Tyre before seeing the sights. She says that she knows of a good seaside restaurant in Tyre. We choose lunch first.

As we drive towards Tyre I question Nadine about cultural attitudes in Lebanon. Her replies are very interesting. She is well educated on such matters and is confident and feminine as she speaks.

She also talks a lot on her cell phone (in Arabic) which rings a lot.

She tells Noel and I that her cell phone costs her US.50c (NZ.70c) a minute using a phone card.

American dollars are used as a second currency in Lebanon. The Lebanese pound LL is a joke. One American dollar buys 1500 Lebanese pounds. Incredible inflation.

We arrive in Tyre and drive to the large seaside restaurant. As we sit out on the breezy balcony overlooking the beach, Noel and I have a fruit lunch of cherries, plums, nectarines, watermelon and bottled water. Very relaxing and pleasant.

Nadine and Bassem both just have ice cream and won’t touch any fruit, which probably explains why they are both much plumper than normal.

The restaurant forget to charge Noel and I for our lunch. Noel brings it to the waiter’s attention.

Both Nadine and Bassem think Noel is crazy. Bassem says, "Their mistake! Your good fortune! Just go!" But we pay for it.

We next drive to the ruins of the old city of Tyre. In Biblical times, 3000 years ago Tyre was a famous and fabulously wealthy city. It was built on an off-shore island and noted for its shipping trade. The island ruins are now part of the mainland and cover a huge area.

We get out and do another walk around. There are numerous columns still standing (some have been re-erected) and lots of old mosaic floors. Also water tanks, spas and baths. Again hot and glary in the afternoon sun.

We are looking at a marble pillar lying on the ground when an elderly local man yells out to us from a house in the distance and runs over to us. He turns on a plastic hose and wets the pillar to show up the pattern in the Phoenician marble.

I think he is expecting a tip, but he goes away when he realises we have a guide.

The two types of pillars are shown below. Phoenician pillars are marble. The later Roman pillars are a more utilitarian granite.

As we leave, a peddler comes up to Noel and I and tries to sell him tiny bronze figurines of the god Baal that he says have been excavated from the ruins. They look very old.

"Only 15 American dollar." He says earnestly.

If they were real I would expect to pay 15,000 American dollar.

He is very persistent, and soon turns his attention to me. But finally after 5 minutes I manage to fend him off and we walk back to the car. Nadine who had not spoken during this incident, now said, "Genuine Tyre fake figurines."

As we drive off, heading back to Beirut. I comment to Bassem about how most of the cars on the road are Mercedes. "Yes, they good car." He says. "They last well."

Evidently they import them cheap as used cars from Germany, just as we import used cars from Japan. Germany, like Japan has a very strict test after a car has been on the road for 3 years and thereafter every two years. It can cost a lot of money to bring them up to scratch so they tend to sell them off cheap.

We drive past an impressive looking mosque on the way home and Noel takes a picture.

Noel asks Nadine if we could be dropped off in the city where the bomb blast of Hariri’s car took place, and we will walk back to the hotel. She agrees.

When Bassem stops the car there, we are surprised to see that about 50 of the cars that were parked in the area during the bomb blast, back in Feb 2005, are still there. They are filthy with dust, or covered with tarpaulins. The whole area is cordoned off.

Noel and I then walk around the city centre plaza which is nearby. Noel is impressed with the changes since he was here last and takes lots of photos to show Rana. There are numerous young people around, especially at the outside tables of the eateries.

Noel and I buy an ice cream. The cones seem almost twice as long as New Zealand cones.

Some of the young people are smoking water pipes, even the young women. We also come across several shops that sell them.

We have an interesting walk home. We pass the Prime Minister’s palace and rinse our sticky ice cream hands in his roadside fountain.

There is still quite a strong military presence in the city, with many Government buildings guarded by armed soldiers.

The street below is typical of those we walk through in the Hamra area on our way back to the hotel.

We also see a number of buildings that seem to have been half built and then abandoned. The one below is typical.

Tonight we go out for another walk. It is Saturday night and there are crowds out on the streets. It is very busy and the shops are open. It is also capping night at the nearby American University of Beirut. Soldiers and police are everywhere.

We check out a popular takeaway food shop. The attendant offers us a free spinach-filled pasty each to try. These seem very popular. So we buy some, plus a milkshake and a fruit cocktail.

We then try to locate a Mormon or Maronite Catholic church for me to attend in the morning, but we can’t find one, only a Roman Catholic church in Hamra Rd about a km from the hotel. I make a few enquires, but nobody seems very interested or can understand me sufficiently well.

The Hamra area of Beirut has a bustling, old, downtown narrow street atmosphere, a bit like Willis St in Wellington, more so than the city centre we visited today which is more like the wider Manners St area in Wellington.

However it is very different from NZ. The buildings are an unusual blend of modern, very old, run down and spruced up. Hamra is full of low rise apartments, shops, offices and a huge number of banks, about sixty. Evidently Beirut is a major world banking centre and obviously offers some attractive tax advantages.

There are also lots of small workshops, hotels and some small gas stations. All of this is combined with endless horn tooting, jostling traffic, many one way streets. It is hard to cross the road during busy times.

Everywhere we walk we hear the sound of the famous Lebanese woman singer Fairouz. She is played in restaurants and in cars as they drive past.

So I decide to buy a CD of her most popular songs. The young enthusiastic man who owns the tiny CD shop we enter is insistent that I buy one of his copies, rather than the official version. He says, "It just same! It just same! You not tell difference."

So I buy one off him for US$3, complete with Arabic writing all over the case. (When I played it after I got home it brought all the exotic atmosphere of the trip flooding back.)

Much Lebanese music, especially the accompaniment, is similar to Indian music, but the lyrics are sung with a typical throaty Arabic accent.

We would also hear the songs of Fairouz in Israel and Egypt. Two of our tour drivers played her songs.

Click here to hear a sample song. (This may be too big a download (2.5 MB) if you only have dial up.)

Fairouz, born in Lebanon 1935.

The word ‘habib’ comes up a lot in her songs. Earlier today I asked Nadine what Habib meant, as it is the first name of my great-grandfather. It is also my son Amron’s second name.

She said it means ‘love.’ Bassem our driver added. "Habib a beautiful word." (Habib is pronounced Har-beeb-e in soft tones.)

We walk back to the hotel through throngs of well dressed university capping spectators, most of them chatting loudly. Soldiers and military police are everywhere tonight and had earlier cordoned off some areas with rope.

When we get back to our hotel we find that the fridge hasn’t been cooling, even though it runs. Ours is obviously not the best hotel in Beirut, but seems to be well located.

We go to bed about 10:30 pm. Noel goes off to sleep instantly, just like I did last night.

The day after tomorrow we visit the ruins of Baalbek and then on to Bcharre, (pronounced Bishar-ree) the mountain birth town of my grandfather Joseph Habib Coory. There we will meet the family that remain and hopefully settle the land issues once and for all. I am quite excited, but a little apprehensive.

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