Back in the USA.

Now that I am back home and almost free of jet-lag, I am in the process of uploading pictures to enhance this narrative. Please check back often for photographic and journal additions.













Raggled and Bedraggled

In Transit.

In the internet cafe in Heathrow airport on my way home, now. Bags are all checked in with United Airlines, and no-one had a heart attack on the previous flight. Phew! The only casualty is that I left my eyeglasses on the nightstand in the dark while getting ready to leave for my 4AM flight out from Cyprus. My patients will have to be patient with ME until I have them sent on. I will be rather blind until then...

I must say, it's nice to be back in the land of lightning fast internet service. Yesterday, in Nicosia, I spent an hour trying to upload photos to this site to no avail. When I get home, I will sort through all the pictures and put up the ones that illustrate my narrative. I may have some lingering comments, too, once I have digested my experiences.

Until them, I am in THE TERMINAL. See you all soon.

The Birthplace of Dr. Aphrodite, etc.

I have a question for my British friends. Is it written somewhere that "on holiday" British tourists must stay up and party until 2 or 3AM, making as much noise as possible? It seems that almost every hotel I' ve stayed in, each having a high percentage of British clientele, plays loud music until late at night. No-one goes to sleep until extremely late, and the more they drink, the rowdier they become. The Sempati Hotel in Kyrenia, where I stayed last night, was no exception. As everyone who knows me will attest, I become Oscar the Grouch when I haven't had enough sleep.

Harumph. After breakfast, I decided to pack up and head out for the town where I and my siblings were born. First, I detoured to the East to a little town nestled in the foothills of the Pentadaktilos mountains called Bellapais. In this village, clinging to a ledge, there is a very old abbey built around 1100AD. I toured the ruins in the sweltering heat and then trudged up the hill to find the home of British author, Lawrence Durrell. This pilgrimage was for my children. When they were young, we read the book, "My Family and Other Animals" by Gerald Durrell, Lawrence's brother. It was a hilarious account of Gerry's family's life on the island of Corfu. He often mentioned the antics of his brother, Larry. When Larry grew up, he moved to Bellapais and wrote a famous book about Cyprus called "Bitter Lemons". I had intended to read it before coming on this trip, but didn't manage it. I will certainly pull it out of my bookshelf when I get home.

Bellapais Abbey

Through an arch of the Abbey.

Bitter Lemons, Lawrence Durell's home in Bellapais

After seeing the abbey and Lawrence Durrell's home, I decided to find out if I could locate the exact spot where one of the paintings in my office was created. It is the one with the little house in the middle of the foreground and the five fingers of the Pentadaktilos range in the background. I came upon extensive olive groves in this area, and also many new homes. Nothing looks quite the way it used to:

Then it was off to drive to the West towards Pendayia and Xeros in Morphou Bay.

The remainder of this posting may only mean something to my family as I will recount my journey back in time, again:

The drive from Kyrenia to the West took longer than it seemed it should have when looking at the map. I don't recall ever going this way before, and it is more mountainous than it appears on paper. Finally, I drove into Morphou from the East. Orange groves stretched out as they used to with rows of Cypress trees acting as windbreaks. Several orange juice stands offered freshly squeezed juice. My mouth watered, but I was out of Turkish Lira and the ATM at the Turkish Bankasi in Morphou spat my ATM card out. Didn't like it for some reason, or maybe they don't give out money on Sunday?

Soon, the Mediterranean sparkled between the eucalyptus trees that appeared on my right. I kept my eyes open for the road to Pendayia Hospital (where I was born). There it was, with a hospital sign above it in Turkish. Slowly, I drove down the road, wondering how the golf-course would look and if the hospital was still in use. The fairway on the left was overgrown with weeds, but the one on the right was just as it used to be. In fact, sprinklers were watering as I drove by. The greens are still black with oil instead of deep green with closely mown grass. I have a nice photo down the fairway between the road to the doctors houses and the road to the hospital.

Looking down the Fairway

When I got to the hospital buildings, they appeared a little rundown. A couple of ancient ambulances sat parked in a driveway. The hospital looked as if it is still in use, but the waiting room was empty. I heard echoes of children crying as I remembered how the people would crowd into the waiting room hoping to be seen by a doctor. It usually seemed oppressively hot in there and it wasn't air-conditioned. The overseas staff always got to go first. I felt a little guilty about that in that moment.

A View of the Hospital in Pendayia

Out on the road to Xeros, I came in full view of the bay. No red water (from dumping the dregs of the milling process), of course. When I arrived at the jetty that was connected to the mill, where the company used to process the copper ore in preparation for shipment, I noticed a little "restaurant" at the base of it. Get this. It was called The CMC Pub, Museum, and Restaurant! I parked and got out to see what it was all about. I met the owner, who said that his father used to work for CMC (Cyprus Mines Corporation). When the government dismantled the mill operation, this guy went over and salvaged what he could from the wreckage. He had hung at least a half dozen, black and white, posed photographs of groups of mill workers in frames on the wall. Uncle David (Marr), a close family friend, was in every one of them. The restaurant owner had also picked up an old (now antique) typewriter, something that looked like an adding machine, and various plaques from machinery. I took photos of the photos and some of the abandoned mill operation across the street with Mavrovouni in the background.

The CMC Jetty (in the foreground)

Uncle David (Marr) and the Mill Workers

CMC Machine Shop - 13 March 1968

The Abandoned CMC Mill

Skouriotissa from Pendayia on a very hazy day.

I drove on towards Xeros, which still looks remarkably the same. Apostolides' old grocery store now has several enterprises in it, including a small bank. I tried the ATM card again with no luck. Driving up the road towards Karavostassi, all the little houses on each side seem to have been frozen in time. That road was much longer than I remember, though. At the top of it, where we used to turn to go up the hill, there is a roundabout (I should do one whole posting on roundabouts!), which you must go around before you can drive up Karavostassi hill. The old house on the left at the bottom of the hill is still there. I remember it as being fairly run-down even when we lived there; it has crumbled even more. I think someone still lives there though.

Up on Karavostassi hill, the homes are in worse shape than the ones in Skouriotissa. The Marrs' original house has been painted bright yellow, and I think that is the only maintenance or painting that has been done in 30 years. Fence posts are missing, and the ones that remain haven't seen paint since the CMC workers did it. I saw the garages where my brothers lit the field on fire when they were smoking cigarettes at about age 7. The field is still there and so are the garages. At the top of the road to the right, is a university campus with apartments. It is called something like "The European University of Lefke (Lefka)". Down on the road towards Lefka, at the junction to the road to Mavrovouni, many new homes have been hastily constructed, or "plunked" as I see it. I tried to drive down the old road to Mavrovouni, but after one or two houses, it petered out. Not maintained at all.

At that point, I decided to return to Nicosia, and then back to Larnaca. Tonight, I am staying in the same little hotel I chose for the first few days (Lysithea). I slept well then, and will try to do the same in preparation for my return on Tuesday. My flight leaves at 4AM, so I will need to store up on the shut eye before then.

In the land of the Evıl Empıre.

I have gone over to the dark sıde. The North sıde of Cyprus, that ıs.

Currently, I am sıttıng ın an ınternet cafe ın Kyrenıa, usıng a keyboard that ıs set-up for Turkısh typıng. That ıs why the "I" looks so funny. It is a Turkısh "I". I could try to fınd the lower case one on here, as I dıd for my last post, but I gıve up. You wıll have to ımagıne a dot above the lower case "I". Also, there ıs no apostrophe. More ımagınatıon requıred.

My flıght out of Beırut was delayed for about a half hour thıs mornıng because the Larnaca, Cyprus, aırport was fogged ın. I dont ever recall that happenıng here before. Ive heard ıt saıd that the humıdıty has rısen as the populatıon has grown. More ırrıgatıon, more swımmıng pools. Sounds lıke Scottsdale, Arızona!

When I fınally arrıved here, I was met by the rental car man holdıng a placard wıth my name on ıt. Woo. Important, agaın! I drılled hım to make sure I could take the car ınto North Cyprus. No problem, I would just need Turkısh ınsurance whıch ıs purchased at the border crossıng. And ıf I breakdown? Just pay for ıt and submıt ıt to the ınsurance when I get back. OK. I sıgned the forms and we went out to the parkıng lot to transfer the vehıcle.

I had requested a small car sımılar to the one I had last week, but was delıvered a Toyota Camy (small SUV). Hmmm.. Once the car-hıre guy left, I got ın and started ıt up. Next, I lowered the automatıc wındow so I could put the tıcket stub ın the machıne on the way out of the parkıng lot. Or trıed to lower the wındow. It didn't quıte functıon as ıt should have. Sometımes ıt didn't respond at all, and sometımes ıt went all the way down or up. If I trıed to reverse dırectıon to stop ıt, ıt would just reverse dırectıon but not stop. Ahhh!

Oh well. I would make due, especıally as the car-hıre guy was no where to be seen. Off to Nıcosıa I went to fınd the border crossıng. Fırst, after some jıggıng and joggıng, I found the crossıng sıte by the Ledra Palace Hotel, only to be told that only pedestrians crossed there. Bogus Lonely Planet ınfo. The polıce there very kındly gave me a hand-drawn map to the actual car crossıng at a vıllage nearby, Agıos Demetıou.

Rıght, as the Brıtısh say, off I went, and I found ıt wıthout much dıffıculty. At the crossıng, one exıts ones vehıcle to purchase Turkısh ınsurance. What exactly does ıt cover? Only thırd party ınsurance! No one told me that ahead of tıme. Essentıally, I am responsıble for any damage to my vehıcle ıf I cause an accıdent. Bıg decısıon. Dıd I want to contınue? Where was my son the claıms examıner when I needed hım? I knew what he would say. Dont go! What the heck. Everyone else was ın the same boat. So, I went through the passport control, purchased the Turkısh ınsurance (5 pounds hıgher for a rental car, for some reason) and drove on over to the dark sıde.

I say the dark sıde because sınce the Turkısh ınvasıon over 30 years ago, the Greek Cyprıots have been understandably bıtter and resentful of theır presence. The maraudıng Turks drove them off theır land and supplanted them wıth Turkısh Cyprıots as well as Turks from the maınland.

That saıd, I have to note that the Turks defınıtely pıcked some prıme real estate. The Kyrenıa area ıs some of the nıcest property I have seen on the ısland. Those of you who have observed the paıntıngs ın my Auburn offıce wıll know what area I am referıng to. Those were paınted ın shadows of the Pentadaktılos range behınd Kyrenıa. Thıs slıver of land has the same topography as we have ın northern Calıfornıa wıth the ocean on one sıde and the Sıerras on the other. Imagıne a lıttle less dıstance between the two and you have an ıdea of the lure of thıs regıon.

I ate dınner at a lıttle restaurant that we used to frequent ın the olden days: The Harbor Club, an old establishment that looks just as ıt dıd then. It ıs located down at the end near Kyrenıa Castle, the Crusader fortress that guards the harbor. I ate moussaka, drank a glass of Turkısh whıte wıne, and watched the sun set. My waıtress assured me that the sunset would be spectacular, but the demon fog forstalled the lıght show. I wıll try agaın tomorrow evenıng.

The Harbor Club Restaurant

Kyrenia Castle and the Harbor

Kyrenia Harbor at Dusk

Tomorrow, I wıll attempt to drıve around the tıp of the ısland to the West to reexperıence my bırthplace, Pendayıa. I have been told that ıt ıs nothıng lıke ıt used to be, so I am well prepared. Apparently, ıt ıs very poor and run-down. We wıll see...

A Walking Tour of Uptown and a Celebration.

On Friday, I decided to skip the lectures and the movie and immerse myself in the experience of returning to high school and to Beirut itself. I sat under the tree in the courtyard where we spent countless recesses. Alan Whitman and I were once trying to remember what kind of tree this was (via e-mail). For his benefit, I will tell you that it is, and the three other trees in the courtyard are, carob. Some enterprising person/janitor has placed a blue, plastic bag in the hollow of the tree, no doubt to preempt students from throwing trash in there irretrievably (see it behind Lynn?). While Lynn, Gail, and I sat there in the courtyard reminiscing, the bell rang for recess and the students poured out of the academic building to congregate by the lockers. Instantly, we were transported back in time. Locker doors clanged. Students called back and forth. Chaos reigned. This could be our recess...

We wandered over to what had been the boys' dormitory. It now houses administrative offices. Gone is the window where the boarders used to sign in and out. Gone is the window where Nimr (Jaba the Hut) used to sit, answering the telephone and keeping an eye on people entering and leaving the building. Instead, there is a guard hut just by the gate. There is another guard hut on the other side of the academic building. No one is allowed on campus without some form of identification. (We were given lanyards with our personal information in our welcome packets. Some people's ID cards had pictures of themselves taken from some ancient yearbooks. (A few had the wrong pictures. Oh well...)

The current headmaster, George Damon, lives with his family in the penthouse. There is a brand new ACS sign in front of the old boys' BD (boarding department) . Instead of the table to the right, there is a spiffy, new fountain surrounded by flags. The bench to the left of the BD entrance, where we sat so often - waiting for meals, waiting to sign out, or just hanging out - still exists. Frozen in time. There is no girls' BD. The building is still there, but it's not part of ACS any more. Kameel's shop is gone. So are Eddy's and Washington's hang outs.

After immersing ourselves in ACS again, as if it had been an instant ago that we were students here, we walked down to the Corniche (the walkway along the water). There is a new Hard Rock Café down near the St. George Hotel and we wanted to buy t-shirts to take home. (How many people do you know with a Hard Rock Café Beirut shirt???) As we strolled along the railing by the glittering Mediterranean, we observed all the construction on the other side of the street: High rises everywhere, interspersed by a few old buildings. On our way back, we noticed an overgrown piece of property, squeezed between taller buildings, that had a single story shack on it. Must be hold-outs ("I've lived here all my life and I'm not selling to some rich, Arab sheik - over my dead body!") We inadvertently walked through a movie set of some kind. Luckily, no one was filming at the exact moment that we ambled by, but the high intensity lights had been turned on. Maybe it's the sequel to "Syriana"... George Clooney, where are you?

Corniche, the Movie

The Corniche has become a busy, built-in fitness club. The original "24 hour fitness". People regularly jog and exercise here. A young woman rollerbladed past us. As you can see by the picture, a man wandered by looking very over-heated (notice the t-shirt on his head??).

Rollerblading on the Corniche

Fishing off the Rocks
(is that guy naked???)

Once we made our Hard Rock purchases and walked back on the other side of the Corniche, we entered the AUB (American University of Beirut) campus, showing our ID badges as we passed the guard. Trudging up the stairs, we came to the familiar banyan tree and then exited the main gate onto Rue Bliss. You can still get a great shawarma here, at Bliss House. It's just a little more organized and a slightly bigger establishment. Now you pay at the cash register on one side of the stand and retrieve your shawarma on the other. You can have chicken or beef. (Could it be camel?? We never quite knew for sure...) Fresh orange juice is offered at many shops. Though I didn't see any carts uptown for orange juice, there was one down on the Corniche (see photo above). I bought some green plums from a guy with a cart. Remember the green plums that would give you a tummy ache if you ate too many?

The Banyan Tree

Rue Bliss

Khayat's Bookstore had been closed the last time I went by, but this time it was open. We ducked inside to marvel at the musty books and the equally musty proprietors. A circular rack still contained postcards from the 60's. What a blast from the past! It was here back in 1967 that I purchased the required pocket dictionary for 7th grade English. Not only did it accompany me all the way through ACS, but, I still have it! (Each year, under the name on the fly page, I scratched out the previous grade and wrote in the new one.) I also have the thesaurus that went with the dictionary. That's in better shape 'cause I didn't use it as much.

Khayat's Bookstore

We made our way up Jeanne D 'Arc Street to the Mayflower, our hotel, and had a little siesta before getting ready for the big Culmination Barbecue planned for the final evening:

CELEBRATION!

ACS put on quite the shindig for their 100th anniversary culmination event. It was billed as a barbecue, but it was much more than that.

We arrived at the new athletic field, as instructed, at around 7:30PM. The gate was around the side of the field, which was where the boys played touch football and we all had many a soccer game during PE. Because of generous alumni donations, they have covered the field with artificial turf.

For this evening, a wide red carpet had been spread out down the middle of the field leading to the old tennis courts. Here, a bedouin tent, richly decked out with pillows, blankets, etc, held a typical Lebanese musician and a singer:

We were welcomed with some lovely Arabic tunes as we all strolled into the venue. Waitors brought everyone drinks and we chatted and visited. The tennis court area was covered with multiple white tents, underneath which were rows and rows of tables with fresh sunflower center-pieces. There was a stage at one end and meal prep occuring at the other end.

We were called to take our seats and after an official welcoming address, we headed over to the buffet to pile our plates high with traditional Lebanese dishes from tabbouli and lentils, to shawarma and lamb. Another table held fresh fruit and Lebanese desserts.

Shawarma being prepared for our dinner

(notice the Manara and Knights paintings on the wall)

Once most of us were seated, the entertainment began. Whooping and hollering, a Lebanese dance troup leapt down the aisles on their way to the stage with Arabic music throbbing from the speakers. I was wondering about the effect on the neighbors...

The dancers were clothed in colorful, traditional Arab dress and they seemed to really enjoy themselves. They performed a variety of dances, some including swords, others with scarves and twirly things. After a short break for several speeches, they returned to the stage for a couple of modern dances that seemed to meld techno, modern Arabic music with punk (or rap)- type clothing. It was very clever.

For those of you who attended ACS in the 70's: Lynn, Gail and I were joined by Rae Azkoul and Alice Ludvigsen. (Picture above L-R: Me, Alice, Lynn, Rae, and Gail).

A good time was had by all. In fact, it was difficult to leave at the end of the evening, but I had an early flight to Cyprus this morning, so had to make it to bed at a decent time.

Zzzzzz....

Downtown.

One of the people in our group, Ramsey Tawil from '74, has become chummy with some guys who own a cellphone shop down the other end of the Corniche, near the St. George Hotel. He apparently dropped in there for some help with his cellphone and got to chatting with the repair guy. Ramsey is half Lebanese, so everyone around here is interested to hear his story. One thing led to another, and they invited us all out for a light dinner in the newer, hip, downtown area. So, we took a taxi down there last night and met them at their shop.

Before we left for dinner, they showed us pictures on their computer that they had taken immediately following the Hariri bombing of last year. To remind you, or inform you, Rafiq Hariri, the prime minister of Lebanon and a moderate, was driving with his bodyguards past the St. George Hotel when his motorcade was blown to smitherines by a huge bomb. The occurance has been under investigation ever since. Currently, there is a temporary building constructed over the site of the explosion. The hotel stands eerily vacant. The high-rise building across the street bends forward with its twisted metal support beams stretching upward and outward. The top two floors were melted by the impact of the explosion. Imagine how high the flames must have reached to demolish the top of the building. Authorities are still trying to determine the dynamics of the incident. Speculation says that explosives may have been placed under ground, or packed into some of the plastic barriers that lined the street. Maybe it was both. The cell phone guys said that they saw some road work being done in the dead of night before the bombing. In the morning, the workers were gone. They thought that was odd.

Anyway, because the cellphone shop is just behind the street where the bombing occurred, they suffered extensive damage to the store. The windows imploded and everything was destroyed. The cellphone guys ran over to the scene and took pictures (with their cellphones, of course!) even before the police showed up, so they had photos that were more immediate and more horrific than anything portrayed in the media. They even had a video and I won't go into detail about it here, but it was chilling to watch.

We left for dinner in a couple of cars driven by the cellphone guys. They took us into the new downtown area that was heavily damaged during the civil war. Buildings are going up right and left, and others are being repaired. It seems that the architects around here are being quite intelligent about their choice of style. Everything blends in nicely with what's here. In Cyprus, unimaginative, block-like buildings appear to be plunked down in the middle of lots with no thought for esthetics. They could learn something from the Lebanese architects.

We parked and walked to an area that is inaccessible to cars. Cafés have been set up between buildings and creative lighting on the façades exuded a warm glow. As we walked down to the main square where the parliament building is and where a brand new, Turkish style mosque has been constructed, a call to prayer rang out, hauntingly between the buildings. It only added to the atmosphere.

Behind the new mosque, a temporary memorial to Hariri has been errected. His body and that of his guards is draped with white flowers and pictures of him have been placed all around. People come here to pay their respects. I saw a scarved, Moslem woman weeping softly as she dabbed her eyes and walked from casket to casket. Hariri's death was a great loss for this country.

We had a light, Lebanese meze at one of the cafes. The cellphone guys rented hookahs filled with fruity smelling tobacco. We had a lovely time, after which, Walid, the repair guy, drove us back to our hotel. A nice taste of modern Lebanon.

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Related article on AFP (Yahoo) 6/17/06

Beirut Property Boom Ignores Political Crisis

Despite Lebanon's deep economic and political crises, an unprecedented property boom has turned Beirut into a giant building site, spurred by the appetite of developers, expatriates, and Gulf Arabs.
Bulldozers and giant cranes have invaded the capital, where any vacant lot or damaged building triggers fierce battles among property developers, who are mostly building residential apartments too expensive for the average citizen.
The boom started last year despite dramatic events that shook the country, and which turned on the assassination of former premier Rafiq Hariri, with property prices soaring an average of 50 percent.
Beirut has witnessed a major face-lift with the new construction boom, mostly in the once war-ravaged downtown area being rebuilt by the private company Solidere, which runs properties valued at about five billion dollars.
Brand new residential high-rises financed by Lebanese and Gulf investors now tower over the marina near Seafront Road where Hariri was killed in a massive car bombing in February 2005.
"Very often, when the first picks strike the ground at the construction sites, between 75 and 80 percent of these projects are already sold to rich Lebanese or Arab nationals," Raja Makerem, manager of Ramco realty, told AFP.
Victor Najarian, director general of CARE realty, said "We are managing about 15 projects worth a total value of one billion dollars, and we hope to double that amount within a year."
Along the downtown seafront area, apartments run at between 600 and 1,000 square meters (6,450-10,765 square feet) and sell at 5,000-6,000 dollars per square meter.
About 60 percent of the apartments sold in the area have been bought by Gulf Arabs and the rest mostly by wealthy Lebanese.
Relatively smaller apartments in the downtown area sell at 3,400-4,500 dollars per square meter.
"And Lebanon can still expect more, as it has great potential in the five years to come," Najarian said. He noted that five luxury hotels and a dozen large projects were underway along the seafront, where about 30 more projects are due to be launched.
Solidere sold land worth a total of 1.1 billion dollars in the first quarter of 2006, five times more than in all of last year, Makarem said.
The latest Ramco report said "Gulf investors may have propped up Lebanon's balance of payments with more than one billion dollars during 2005 alone. Additional spending on construction and furnishing could more than double that amount."
Gross foreign capital inflow reached 3.9 billion dollars in the first four months of this year, increasing the balance of payments surplus to 1.4 billion dollars, according to figures from the Central Bank of London.
According to the Ramco report, the total area of land bought by Gulf Arabs across Lebanon multiplied by four times to two million square meters between 2002 and 2005.
But the boom has raised concerns for the country's architectural heritage.
"In the 1990's, about 2,200 traditional buildings were registered in Beirut. Today, only a quarter of that has remained," architect Jacques Ligier Belair told AFP.
Perched on a hill facing the Mediterranean, the once quiet residential neighborhood of Ashrafiyeh with its old, elegant buildings has dramatically changed in the past few years. Restaurants, bars, trendy shops and new buildings have mushroomed across the neighborhood where prices have sky-rocketed.
"Two years ago, apartments were selling at a maximum of 1,100 dollars per square meter. Today, they start at 1,600 dollars," said Ligier Belair.

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New apartment building near ACS.




















The Old and The New(er).

Shopped till we dropped.

Before the first bus trip to the valleys, we found out that, due to the bombing in south Lebanon, we would not be going to Sidon on Thursday. That would have included a visit to a glass blowing factory and opportunity to purchase some handblown glass. I was really looking forward to that. BUT, it was not to be. Some of our group wanted to go to a town called Byblos, north of Beirut, because they still have souks (bazaars), but the reunion group had gone there last year, and the school felt that they didn't want to subject them to a repeat trip.

The little group I am hanging out with (Lynn and Gail Hill and myself) decided that instead of attending the lectures and movies at the school yesterday, we would hire a car to take us to Byblos. We were all very disappointed to find out that the souks of Beirut, labarynthine and fascinating, no longer exist. It is fun to bargain and buy locally made items, so we wanted to go to Byblos for some haggling. Lynn and Gail had paid a local taxi driver to take them to the mountains a few days previously. Because he had proven to be reasonably priced and a safe driver (an oxymoron in Beirut), we chose him for our outing to Byblos.

We traveled the six lane highway again, the one that turned into a mass free-for-all, and then headed out to the rural areas. The terrain by Byblos is mildly hilly. Many people own a piece of land with their homes. Some have multiple greenhouses filled with citrus trees, tomatoes, or eggplant, and others have acres of banana trees. Byblos is as I remember: The fortress overlooks the water.

Byblos

The souks are made up of alleyways with the shops tucked into the old walls of the town. Because we were there in the mid morning, there were not many people walking the streets and the shop-keepers were glad to see us. They all tried to get us to buy their wares. Mostly, we were interested in shawls, tablecloths, hubbly bubblies (hookas), and pillow covers. Many of the shops also sold antiquities and old coins that supposedly came with certificates of authenticity. How could the government of Lebanon let them be sold? Maybe they just have so many. (Alan Whitman, a former ACSer, has since assured me that Byblos is famous for its fake coin industry.)

A tunnel through the old walls to the souks - Byblos.

We wandered down an alley where we noticed several fossil shops. At the one at the end, there was a large display of privately owned fossils preserved in sandstone. The owner invited us in for a demonstration on how they discover and uncover the fossils. Apparently, this is the only place in the world where some of these creatures can be found. His family has owned the land for three generations and they work with the Lebanese government to preserve the fossils for posterity. He had a copy of an article from a French version of National Geographic that showed photos of some of his collection. Also, the book of fossils that he had on hand had many pictures of his personal specimens and they mentioned that they are found in Lebanon. Most of them were millions of years old. He had an octopus fossil, a small turtle, many sharks and flying fish. A large shrimp fossil was especially interesting.

Babes in Byblos.

Once we had made our purchases, one of the shopkeepers (who had especially benefitted from our shopping experience) suggested a small restaurant north of town situated on a bluff. Our driver took us out there and we had a lovely Arabic lunch overlooking the harbor and the Mediterranean. Little did I know that my tummy might not like it so much later... :-(

We made our way back to Beirut through the gauntlet of no-lane pandemonium and were deposited at our hotel by mid afternoon. All in all, a good days haul!

The school scheduled an Arabic feast for that evening at a place down on the Corniche (a walk-way all along the sea front), so our hotel groupies all hiked on down there just as the orb of the sun was setting, red with yellow stripes. Unfortunately, my camera didn't capture the full effect, but it was beautiful.

A Walk Along the Corniche At Sunset

Sunset on the Corniche.

The New Manara at Sunset

A couple of our school chums who live in Beirut, and whom we had not seen yet, joined us for the dinner. One, Alice Ludvigsen, has married a Lebanese, and they have a pub and restaurant uptown, called "The-By-The-Way Pub." It is fairly near our hotel, so when we walked back up the hill after dinner, we stopped in to meet Ahmed, Alice's husband. They have a lovely story about how they met, which I will share with you at some point.

Today is Thursday and I should be on another field trip to the grotto and lace making factory. As I woke up with a questionable tummy, I have decided to sit this one out. I have shawarma to eat yet so I need to get my digestion in good condition by tomorrow. As my friend, Lynn, says, we are eating our way through the Middle East! In addition, I am eating my way through Cyprus, too.

It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it!