A placeholder & links covering the whole journey can be found through the link here and below:
Sunday 2 March 1997 – Flew out of Heathrow p.m. – only 30 minutes late.
Got held up at the airport ever so slightly by immigration.
Got to Hotel Bristol late – dined at Kabab-Ji on Hamra Street near hotel.
Held Up At Immigration
Yes, “held up ever so slightly by immigration” is code for a rather peculiar incident, perhaps based on my physiognomy.
Of course our papers were entirely in order and Janie was waved through when we got to immigration at Beirut airport. In my case, however, a military-looking fellow stepped forward and swiped my passport from the immigration official’s hand for “routine checking”.
Janie got a little aggravated when she realised that she’d got through and I hadn’t but was told simply to stand at a distance and wait.
The immigration official engaged me in conversation, which I imagine was part of the “checking” process.
“First time in our country?”
“No”, I said, “I visited your country as a child, with my parents, many years ago.”
“Where did you visit?”
“We went to Beirut and Baalbek”, I said authoritatively.
“That’s not very much visiting”, he said.
“No”, I replied, “we were on a Mediterranean cruise, so only stayed here for one day, unfortunately”.
“Ah”, he said, “if you were on a Mediterranean cruise as a child you must also have visited ISRAEL”. That last word was hurled at me in an expletive manner.
I realised that our whole trip might be over. Were the officials to search our travel papers, they would see unequivocally that we were going on to Israel at the end of our trip. Beirut International Airport (Air Side) might be the sole and entire extent of our holiday.
I smiled at the immigration official.
The immigration official smiled back.
I put on my thoughtful face, to show that I was trying to dredge the memories…or the right words. Then I said:
“Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I was 10 years old when my parents took me on that cruise. So I don’t remember all the places we visited back in 1973. But I clearly remember visiting Lebanon and I clearly remember liking it very much and wanting to come back to see more, so here I am!”
The official smiled and laughed. His laugh suggested the thought, “I know that you know that you went to Israel on that cruise”.
I smiled and laughed back, which probably implied, “I know that you know that I know that I went to Israel on that cruise”.
But I think his response was also a sign to the military-looking guy, who appeared as if from nowhere at that moment with my passport and said “welcome to Lebanon” as he handed me back the vital document.
Le Bristol Hotel & Kabaji Hamra Street
We rather liked Le Bristol Hotel. Steeped in Beirut history, it felt like “the” place to stay for the couple of nights we were to be in Beirut. An affordable luxury too.
Sad to learn that the economic crisis and then the pandemic led to the place permanently closing in 2020. It’s history and undignified end well described and illustrated in the Middle East Eye piece – click here.
It’s hard to tell for sure, but I’m guessing that the Kababji in question, given the Hamra Street clue, is this one – click here.
Not many reviews post pandemic – ouch!
Photographing yer food hadn’t been invented back then, but it is more than likely that our meze looked a bit like this:
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We’d made a good start.
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