First thoughts in Beirut

The sky is pink and blue ice, the temperature perfect and I am sitting on the balcony of the Hayete guesthouse chilling out after a productive and thought-provoking day at the Theta-healing course I am attending here in Beirut.

Hayete means “My life” and it is great to have a few days off from My Muscat Life to regroup in a different space. This morning I got into the taxi down to the Monroe hotel and the taxi driver handed me a gardenia, which I have worn in my hair, the scent pervading my space all day.  This is a city of dichotomy, all windswept purple flowers on the pavements, and delicate jasmine and heady gardenia. But there is also dogshit from the shi-shi dogs being walked by the Filipino housemaids, as well as the pockmarks of war everywhere.

There are shiny glass buildings and old style Beiruti houses, like the one I am staying in. There are buildings that have been half- destroyed and have been left as is; and a lot of construction work everywhere too. On the busy corniche, there are ladies strolling in tailored cream shorts with stockings and pumps, and girls in tight skimpy dresses and women covered in black from head to foot. There are Porsches and ancient BMWs and also completely clapped out vehicles, seemingly missing essential parts, that look as though they should not be going anywhere.

There is a bustling vibrant energy and and I have found myself looking closely into the people’s faces. They tell completely different stories to those in the land where I live. As I rode down winding streets in that taxi this morning, we passed a large hand-pushed cart of gigantic fresh strawberries, the biggest I have ever seen. Yesterday, at sunset on the cornice, surrounded by the sweet smell of shisha, the people were buying sweet corn with lemon juice from vendors; those lemons also being the largest I have seen.

I am constantly surprised by the greenery everywhere, coming from Muscat this feeling is naturally pronounced.  I am also really happy about how grounded I feel here and how things have flowed since touchdown.

I had the perfect meal last night at Frida’s, the restaurant just below the guesthouse. It consisted of avocado salad with pomegranate, cucumber and teeny green leaves with lemony dressing. There were 5 types of crispy flatbread, my favourite was baked with sultanas and anise and served with slightly spicy olives and grated mature cheddar. I drank a litchi lemonade, freshly made there; the taste of which will stay with me for a long time.

My huge bed and pillow are super-comfy, and even though the resident bird woke me up at 5.30 this morning, I felt at peace with the world.

Now to read through my notes of the day to get up to speed for tomorrow and then I have a strong feeling I’ll be frequenting Frida’s again tonight.