Jeita and Byblos

Jeita Grotto is stunning - a cave system comprising an upper cavern astonishing in its rock formations, from stalagmites and stalactites to organ pipes, coral-like and mushroom-like formations to works of natural art undefinable. Despite the theme-park vibe of the place (mini trains, mini zoo, etc) outside the caves, the inside was tastefully lit in an understated way. The lower grotto contains a river and a short boat ride through its peaceful interior showed more of the same, but with the magical atmosphere that calm water provides. Both caverns had me gaping in wonder - this was a breathtaking glimpse of what is only a fraction of the whole cave system.

I'd joined a day trip from Beirut, and from Jeita our minibus continued to Jounieh, a sprawling coastal town, no longer even separated from Beirut. Above the town we stopped at Harissa, one of a number of Christian monuments in the area, which stood high above the town and offered awesome views. We returned to sea level by means of the telepherique - a little cable-car-gondola ride which chugged steeply downhill, finishing by a run in to the station travelling between blocks of flats.The Lonely Planet tagged this as a terripherique, so I was disappointed to find it chugging in a sedate manner, despite its slightly aged appearance.

Next stop was Byblos, site of a series of ruins from neolithic through roman to a crusader castle. Parts of the archaeological site were pretty impressive and the setting was stunning, with the pretty harbour, souk and old church all giving the place a very appealing, if touristy air. We stopped in at the tiny fish fossil museum, where some amazing fossils were on display and an assistant sat splitting rocks and letting dead fish taste fresh air for the first time in a million years. Apparently these fossils are unique in the middle east - I forget the details. I would definitely have liked to spend longer in Byblos - somewhere I could happily have dawdled.

Our day trip ended with lunch at a beach resort just north of Byblos - a pebbly beach getting a lot of use on this unexpected public holiday, the Mediterranean a stunning shade of turquoise in the sun. I went for a paddle and would officially rate the water as 'refreshing'.

Beirut

Beirut has a roguish charm, you fall for it in the way you would a bad boy with a winning smile.

I have spent the whole day walking, watching the landscape change from district to district. The air is thick with the sweet smoke of shisha, occasionally giving way to strong coffee. The roads are packed with cars speeding to a halt, driving willy-nilly, horns honking incessantly. They range from swanky soft-tops to battered ancient taxis with bumpers tied on with yellow nylon string and rear light covers sellotaped on. Buses are scarred with lengthy scratches, testament to their cornering skills.

Downtown buildings rise gleaming over the wastegrounds and crumbling colonial-style houses, some with greenery overtaking them, sprouting from their balconies, many riddled with bullet holes. I passed the Holiday Inn building, a high rise husk, monument to the civil war in which it found itself, soon after opening, to be taken as a prime sniper position. It looms darkly behind the very swanky new Intercontinental Hotel, epitomising the mixture of destruction and regeneration that is Beirut. There are some beautiful old buildings, decoratively stuccoed (if that's the correct architectural term), coloured shutters hanging by the windows. But the majority of these are derelict or, at best, decrepit. Area by area, the state of buildings and the general vibe changes, making a prolonged walk quite fascinating. Around Le Place d'etoile all the streets are roadblocked so have become a calm pedestrian zone. Nearby stands the magnificent Mohammed al-Amin mosque, it's blue dome gleaming in the sun between four minarets as the bells of its neighbour, St George's cathedral, chimed in midday. On every street leading to the central 'place' cafes spill out onto pavements, offering dozens of nearly identical options for sipping a coffee or fresh lemonade and watching the world go by. Well, a very small slice of world - the area was hardly busy on this Monday lunchtime. I settled for a place which offered 'crap salad' on its menu.

By the late afternoon, having strolled past the open-air ruins of a roman bath house, the modern downtown area and atmospheric Gemmayzeh and had a haircut on the way back, I was happily walking into the sunset along the corniche. Young men were swimming off the rocks, older men were fishing and the views stretched past the docks, over the sea to the hills on the other side of the bay. I finished the day with a mint lemonade in a cafe down by the water with the added bonus of four middle aged arab ladies being soaked by a huge wave while they sucked on their shisha and sipped on the coffees. What tickled me was that they found it much more amusing than all those who witnessed it - worried waiters and concerned old men. In fact, women here, despite the inequalities they face, seem to live much more freely than in Qatar, where they would never have been sitting out smoking shisha in the first place. But it's not just the women - Beirut is a laid-back place. A man I was talking to at the airport while waiting for baggage said it was lawless. It is, but not in a threatening or scary way, just in a happy-go-lucky way. You see it in the way people cross the road, strike up inane but ranting conversations on the corniche (what was that about?), or cruise through red lights. People are friendly and it feels safe and welcoming. Maybe more rakish than roguish. I like this place, even though I've noticed that not all lebanese men are as dashing as yesterday had led me to believe. Still not complaining though!

Beirut

As the plane descended there was nothing but water, getting closer and closer in the way that makes you begin to hope that a runway, or even a bit of land, will appear soon. But a glance out of the window on the opposite side showed me city, small tatty blocks of flats flying past at a speed that made it hard tell whether the incomplete appearance of many was because they were half way up or half way down. Beyond, similar buildings stretched up onto the surrounding hills. Then beneath our wheels the runway appeared, bordered on one side by a breakwater, and I was in Beirut.

Arrival was quick and efficient, despite three different officials (the second only three feet away from the first) carefully checking every page of my passport, usually twice. I thought they might well be looking for any Israeli stamps, but decided against engaging in any conversation. The airport had a pretty visible military presence as well as this host of charming and good-looking immigration officers. I think it is also the first airport I have seen in 15 years where nicotine-deprived passengers are allowed to light up while waiting at the baggage carousel.

The short taxi-ride into town showed me more of the same sort of architecture, a stunning array of tired, basic buildings jutting over and around each other, somehow vibrant despite they tattiness, with beachy awnings blackened by dust or pollution flapping over every balcony. The road wound over aging flyovers and through an aging tunnel, then into a district of ordinary streets, where trees grew on pavements and people strolled with shopping bags. At a road named Rue de l'armee, we passed a neatly parked tank, its turret and gun snugly fitted with a made-to-measure tarp, and from there we overtook half a dozen jeeps carrying relaxing soldiers, a gun mounted on the back and strings of ammunition hanging inside. I began to think that the army were going to be very visible in the city, but further exploration told me that this is not the case everywhere. In my afternoon wanderings about the area near my hotel, the only other military presence I came across was the curious sight of armed soldiers overseeing the unloading of empty crates from a bakery van.

I'm staying in the Hamra area, where the streets contain a pleasant mixture of bustling activity and quiet leisure. Many buildings are pockmarked with bullet holes, others have been renovated and are freshly painted. The city seems to be staffed by good-looking and polite men - something I'm certainly not complaining about. My hotel is pleasant, though the rooms are what the Lonely Planet would call "tired" and I have a novelty shower where half of the water sprays sideways in a sheet out of the shower head. Oh, and one bedside light doesn't turn off. Not quite what you'd expect for the price I'm paying, but not unbearable either. So now, well rested by a long, if bright, night's sleep, I'm ready and eager to set off to explore the city a bit more.

Dubai Airport

First Class Sleeper