Beirut, Lebanon

Ahh, Beirut. It's like Paris...with palm trees and AK-47s. But more on that later. Last night in Damascus I saw a group of prisoners being led into a building whose sign read "Immigration and Passports." I guess they were illegal immigrants, probably Iraqis. What was amusing was that they were all chained to each other. So this morning I jumped into a service taxi with 3 Malaysians heading to Beirut. The Syrian post was divided into lines just as it was coming into Jordan, except that there was no special line for women. I was concerned about changing money, but there were no money change facilities on the Syrian side. The Syrian and Lebanese posts are located quite far from each other, and there's nothing in between. At the Lebanese post the Malaysians and I went to the desk marked "Visas" and after having each page of our passports thoroughly examined for an Israeli stamp, we were asked to pay 25,000 Lebanese lira each for a visa. Of course, above us was a huge sign saying that only Lebanese currency was accepted. They were nice though, and told us we could go change money and come back. So we walked a little ways into the border town, changed money and got our visas. US dollars and Lebanese lira are used interchangeably here. I know a lot of American tourists accuse other countries of using monopoly money (especially the euro) but Lebanese lira is actually the closest thing I've ever seen to actual monopoly money. Not because it's colorful, but because it's flimsy and a real joke. Once in Lebanon, the highway became only two lanes, going through a lot of small villages and didn't feel like a major road at all. We went up windy roads into the mountains which were covered in snow, and then down into the metropolis of Beirut. There was a checkpoint like every five feet, but we weren't stopped at any of them. Beirut doesn't feel like an Arab city at all. Although everyone speaks Arabic (as well as French and English), there is more Roman script on the signs than Arabic. And like I said, everywhere you look there is a soldier with an AK-47. There are a lot of new things. This is because they would have to be new, since everything was destroyed during the civil war or by Israel in the summer of 2006. So with all the new shopping streets it feels a lot like Birch Street, with AK-47s. I love it! I walked along the corniche in the pouring rain looking for food, but all I saw was snobby, fancy restaurants. Then I caught a wiff of something. It was very faint, but my American nose immediately sensed adequate nourishment in the vicinity. Like a bloodhound I followed the scent. Yes, I knew that scent. Was it too good to be true? Soon afterwards I saw the Golden Arches and knew that I was safe. As he handed me my 9 piece Chicken McNuggets, large fries and Coke, the McDonalds employee said to me "Welcome to Lebanon." Beirut may lack the cultural beauty of Damascus or Aleppo, but it's hip. Very hip. Way too hip for me and my Wal Mart jeans. For this reason I will not be spending much time here, but Beirut has joined Paris and Rio de Janeiro to now be one of my three most favorite cities in the world.