We both had a good sleep last night but woke up hot. We have a lovely breakfast. The morning view of the surrounding mountains from the hotel is quite impressive. It would probably be even more so in the early spring, when the mountains would still be snow clad.

In the photo below we are looking from our hotel across the deep Kadisha Valley ravine which has been scoured out over the centuries by the river below, to the village of St Charbel on the other side.

Wittier Chabat our hotelier has arranged a driver to take us around the local Kadisha Valley tourist sites today.

The driver soon arrives in the inevitable Mercedes, but does not understand English, only French and Arabic.

Our first visit is about 20 kms further down the Kadisha Valley, to the lonely Monastery of St Antonious, a famous local saint whom Tony Fakhry was named after. Antonious brought the first printing press to the Middle East in the early 1600’s.

A narrow road leaves the main valley road and winds deep down into the bottom of the valley. It is greener and lusher down here than the higher Bcharre part of the valley. The rocky cliffs are impressive.

We stop the car on the way down to take a photo of the monastery and I get my foot snared by a vicious tough weed that looks and acts like barbed wire. I also see nearby some highly unusual beautiful wild flowers that have white petals and purple spikes.

The monastery is built into the limestone mountainside and is quite impressive inside. There are still monks living there today. The two we see act a little oddly and wear safari-like hats.

We see the old printing press and an Arabic Bible that was printed on it. We also see a beautifully made priestly vestment called a chasuble.

The living area of the monastery looks surprisingly elegant.

The monastery chapel goes deep into the mountain rock. Some of the roof is still bare exposed rock.

There are three large bells outside which must sound strikingly loud down in this narrow, rocky, cliff-lined valley. I would have loved to have heard them sound.

Finally we tour the nearby cave where the monks used to carry out their exorcisms of devils. Noel and I gingerly climb up into the steep, dark higher recesses of the rocky cave which is partially lit by dim electric bulbs. Suddenly there is a power cut and the cave is plunged into blackness.

Luckily for us there is a small table down below next to the altar, with seven candles burning. When our eyes adjust to the darkness we can just see enough to carefully climb down the jagged rocks again.

On the way back up to the main road, we drive pass some unusual rock formations on the hillside.

Our next stop is to be the famous Cedar’s of Lebanon Grove.

As we drive, our driver is listening to the famous Lebanese woman singer Fairouz whose CD I bought in Beirut.

Then he listens to a speaker in the Lebanese Parliament. This speaker sounds very dignified and I do not hear any interruptions or cat calls such as you get in the New Zealand Parliament. Our driver speaks a little English but cannot understand us when we speak to him.

We soon arrive at the Cedar Grove which is higher than Bcharre. I buy a souvenir Cedar plaque, bark and all, forgetting that I might have a problem with the New Zealand MAF in getting it into the country.

I am not over-impressed with the Cedar Grove. Probably because I come from a country with many impressive trees. It has also been allowed to run down somewhat. The best example was a cedar out on the road by the souvenir shops. The cut Cedar has a very strong fragrance, not entirely pleasant. This smell evidently repels insects making the wood very durable and rot free.

There is a payment to walk around the Grove, but there was no one to collect it at the gate. We wait a while then decide to go in without paying. We haven’t gone far, when the ticket man finally shows up and calls out to us. Noel goes back and pays him.

As we walk along the path leading into the grove, I see Lavender plants lining the pathway and take a picture of it for my Sweetheart Marie who loves the fragrance of Lavender.

Many of the 375 mature Cedar trees in the Grove have had branches sawn off them, as branches break each year under the weight of snow. This also provides the tourist trade with plentiful supply of slices of wood for souvenirs.

Probably the highlight of the Cedar Grove is the carved dead Cedar in the centre. As you can see below, the mostly Christian carvings are quite skillful.

Some of the Cedars are extremely wide, and many hundreds of years old. There are also plantings of baby Cedars.

Our next tour stop is halfway down the steep winding road leading back to Bcharre. Our driver stops the car on the side of the winding road and motions us to get out of the car saying "Grotto."

So we get out and see a sign post pointing down a narrow mountainside track cut into a cliff face. The sign says the same thing, "Grotto."

We are not sure what the Grotto is, so we begin walking along the track.

The view out over the Kadisha Valley below is quite spectacular. We can see the town of Bcharre in the distance. There is just the steep limestone cliff face on our left side of the track and open space on the other. No guard rails here.

Sometimes the track winds in and out of tunnels inside the limestone cliff.

After about a km or so of walking, we come to a cave opening. Nearby is a small house nestled in a tiny valley. A young man comes out of the small house to sell us tickets to tour the cave.

The cave does not look very interesting, but we buy tickets anyway. Then into the cave we walk. What a series of unexpected surprises await us.

A short distance in we start to hear a roaring noise and soon come to a huge cavern full of deep water with a large waterfall roaring into it at one end. Mist hangs in the air. This surprises us, as there was no sign of a river outside the cave. (We find out later that the water is piped from the cave to a hydro-electric power station back on the road where we started.)

From then on the cave produces surprise after surprise, as we come across ever more beautiful limestone formations. These are of world class standard. The cave would be about half a km deep into the mountain side.

When we exit the cave into the bright sunlight, and begin walking back along the cliff face path to the road, we can hear the water rushing through a pipe under the path on which we are walking, on its way to the power station. We didn’t notice the sound on the way in.

Our next tour stop is the picturesque hillside village of Charbel, located across the Kadisha Valley ravine from Bcharre. This village is the highest in the valley, 1.6 km (1600 metres or 5300 feet above sea level). On the way we get a bird’s eye view of Bcharre.

The village of Charbel is named after Saint Charbel, 1828 –1898. He was a monk who lived alone for 23 years on a cold hill near a monastery located here. He was a devout and very pious man.

After he died and was buried in a crypt nearby, there began to be numerous reports of a brilliant light surrounding the crypt and cemetery. This attracted a never ending stream of visitors. Soon there began to be reports also of healings and Charbel was eventually canonised as a saint.

The winding Charbel village streets are quaint, and are all uphill or downhill with courtyards here and there. Noel says it reminds him of an Italian village.

There are many French signs around the place. Lebanon was controlled by France during the period between the first and second World Wars.

We visit the Maronite church of Saint Charbel. Quite beautiful inside.

We also come across a street water fountain, with a notice in English saying, donated by Walter Coury.

This Coury spelling is logical but unusual to see in Lebanon, or anywhere for that matter. Usually it is written Khoury. It was probably donated by a Coury living overseas.

We stop walking and buy some fruit for lunch – greengage plums and last season apples. We sit out on the street in the shade to eat them. There are two laughing, friendly ladies across the road in their craft shop having lunch also. They invite us over to try their lunch. Among other foods they are eating are small savoury mince rolls wrapped in cooked grape leaves. Very nice and tasty. They sell a lot of grape leaves for food in Lebanon.

After lunch we walk higher up the hilly village. This is a very peaceful and timeless place.

We come across this donkey snoozing in the sun.

We also notice these two Lebanese flags. I later asked our hotelier why there are two, and he says that one (the bottom one) is a Christian Lebanese flag and sometimes has red crosses on it. He then shows us the same one on his hotel.

Lebanon is charming in many ways, but has ugly power poles. They are mostly steel girder types like this one in the picture below. They tend to spoil picturesque villages like St Charbel and Bcharre.

We walk back down to our driver waiting patiently in his car. He is now going to drive us back across the ravine to Bcharre, to the tomb and museum of Kahlil Gibran, the world famous Bcharre writer and artist who wrote the little book called "The Prophet."

This well known book, which is especially popular with women, has sold millions of copies worldwide and has been translated into many languages.

This book is a wise and eloquent farewell address to villagers, by a prophet who has lived alone up in the mountains for many years, and is about to depart to his homeland across the sea. (This fictitious prophet bears a strong resemblance to St Maron.)

The villagers ask the prophet for advice on numerous everyday matters, and he replies to them with wise and beautiful eloquence. For example, this is his reply to a question about children.

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, "Speak to us of Children."

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you, but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love, but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies, but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward, nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

The whole book is in most public libraries and is also on-line on the internet. You can read it by clicking on http://www.columbia.edu/~gm84/gibran.html.

If you appreciate fine writing you are sure to enjoy "The Prophet." It is a truly beautiful book.

We arrive at the Kahlil Gibran museum. This museum is filled with Kahlil Gibran’s unusual original paintings.

We were not allowed to take photos. But below is a typical sample.

Noel recognises one of the paintings as a print he has in his bathroom at home.

The quality of the paintings varies tremendously, which I suppose is to be expected with a lifetime’s work on display.

In particular, some of his charcoal sketches are highly skilled.

There are no faces on some of his paintings.

Many of his better paintings can be seen by clicking on this link: http://tinyurl.com/cwsys

As we come out of the museum we hear and see workmen outside building an extension to the museum. They are using jack hammers and spraying concrete etc. Very noisy racket, but as Noel points out, nobody is wearing ear protection.

I take a picture of one of the Maronite Catholic churches nearby.

Our driver then drops us off back at our hotel.

Tonight we are having an evening meal with the Fakhrys at the old house. We walk there from our hotel, leaving about 4:30 pm. As soon as we walk through the tunnel leading to Tony’s house we see Evet there, sitting outside her modest home. She shows us through her little house. I ask her if she is eating with us tonight. She seems uncertain.

Our cousin Milaad Fakhry’s house is next door to the right of Tony’s house. Noel and I stop to admire his decorative pink concrete work. He comes out and invites us in. Milaad is the artist whom we met at the apple orchard yesterday.

Milaad first shows us his outside workshop and his artist’s carving and carpentry tools. He also presents us with a wooden fish he has cut into many segments and held them together with a thread.

He then takes us inside his small but distinctive and attractive home. We meet his wife again, and also his obedient daughter and 16 year old son.

All of the Lebanese children we have met so far have been quiet, relaxed, well mannered and obedient to their parents. Probably due to a combination of family tradition and wholesome food.

Milaad shows us two excellent head sculptures in wood he has done himself, and of which he seems quite proud. One is of Kahlil Gibran and the other is of Jesus. They are of world class standard in my opinion.

Milaad then takes a slice of a strongly fragrant Cedar tree, from the grove we saw earlier to day, and while he talks to us, again of the Fakhry family and their origins, he sits on the couch and skilfully burns an engraving of a Cedar tree in the face of it. As he does so, his wife prepares cold drinks for us and his daughter serves them.

Milaad appears to be a very nice man with a fine family.

We then leave Milaad and walk next door to Tony and Norma’s for our evening meal. Evet is also there.

We are introduced to Tony’s niece, an attractive young lady visiting Bcharre for today, with the impeccable and flawless skin of Lebanese youth. Her name is pronounced Dawnyer, but she tells me, that because it is hard for people to remember and pronounce her name, she asks her friends to call her Daide (‘Daydee’).

Dawnyer is studying at the University in Beirut and is the person who emailed us earlier this year in New Zealand identifying herself as Daide, Tony Fakhry’s nephew.

She obviously meant, Tony Fakhry’s niece. She is also the one who writes Tony’s letters for him in English.

There is another guest also present tonight, an older women whose hair is dyed light brown. She is Tony’s sister and Dawnyer’s mother.

I remember that I have left the little greenstone carving that my Maori friend Tom Tata of Tauranga gave me. I want to gift it to Tony as they seem to appreciate such things in Lebanon. I am going to walk back to the hotel and get it, but Dawnyer offers to drive me back. So we walk out to the main road where her old Honda Civic is parked. But the car is reluctant to start, and when it does, she has a hard time keeping the engine running as it continually stalls, much to her embarrassment.

We finally make it to the hotel after numerous stops. Before returning I have a look under the bonnet and check the rubber vacuum hoses for leaks, but I can’t see any splits. Modern fuel injected engines are not as easy to fix as old carburettor type engines.

We finally make it back to the house again and go in to a huge feast laid out on the table that would put Aunty Mary Morris to shame. There is an infinite variety of dishes on the table, just like at the hotel last night. There are even some whole fishes, cooked with their heads, eyes and tails.

Before we eat, I present the little greenstone carving to Tony. He gratefully accepts it with much dignity.

Much of the discussion, quite animated with Tony and Evet, still revolved around the family history and land problem. Dawnyer is quite quiet.

Tony opens another bottle of Arak and pours it out into little glasses. It is highly diluted with about 4/5ths water. I did not drink a glassful due to its high alcohol content, but out of curiosity I taste Noel’s dregs. It is much milder than I expect and tastes strongly of aniseed.

We take some more family photos and then say "siede" goodnight (that was the Arabic word Evet taught me last night ) and leave about 10:45 pm. Some of the other Lebanese words we have learned are ‘shukrun’ = thank you, ‘marhaba’ = hello (although throughout the Middle East they more often say ‘haalow’ for hullo), ‘naam’ = yes, ‘la’ = no.

Noel and I walk home in the dark, very satisfied. This is our last night in Lebanon and we feel that our visit has gone well. But I would have liked an extra day, one, to attend a Maronite church service, and two, to walk the scenic track down through the ravine and see the catacomb caves where the people lived during the Moslem uprisings in the 19th century. I may come back, but it is such a long, long journey, even in this jet plane age.

A driver is to meet us in the early morning, at 5 am to take us back to Beirut airport to fly to Jordan. Noel tells me that Evet told him earlier tonight that the drive to the airport is longer than the driver has allowed. This is a bit of a concern to us.

We awake about 4:30 am to Noel’s cell phone alarm and get ready to leave at 5 am in the dark. We trundle our two suitcases out into the lobby and there to our surprise is sitting our familiar driver Bassem. He was the one who drove us on our first tour down the Lebanon coast to Sidon and Tyre with our female guide Nadine.

He is smiling and unperturbed as always, even though he tells us he has been waiting an hour, since 4 am. Evidently we were given the wrong pick up time by our tour operator Joseph.

"No worry," he says. I mentally brace myself for a hair-raising drive down the mountain to the airport. But no, Bassem drives quickly, but as smoothly and professionally as ever.

We get to the airport with only about half an hour to spare.

Our flight to Jordan takes about an hour. We have to fly to Jordan to enter Israel, as Lebanon and Syria have both closed their borders to Israel.

There is strong animosity towards Israel in Lebanon. In fact, if you have an Israel stamp on your passport, you cannot enter Lebanon. You must wait, confined to the airport, until you can catch another plane out.

Today’s trip to Jordan proves to be one of the most interesting of our whole trip, but more about that in the next segment "Jordan and Israel" which will probably be ready Jan 2006.

Israel and Jordan sector

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