Geddo [I] was pretty poorly (marid [bedevilled]). Set off early – tea and cake in cafe (tea deliberately [strongly] made to make Ged throw up.
Abdel sure knew what he was doing to make my indisposition short, far from sweet but also far from debilitating. My guess is that I got my upset stomach the day before, not from eating at Abdel’s house, but from foolishly munching at nuts before washing my hands after buying them for cash in the Aleppo souk.
The women in this household said I looked like their favourite Syrian soap opera star.We didn’t stay to eat but naturally these Shezar people offered us food.
Then long drive to Palmyra– Hama, Homs, countryside and then desert. Visited Bedouin family 40km west of Palmyra…
Yoghurt making was their thing. The young woman on the right complained of pains in her gut. Contrary to the text book, Janie gave her some paracetamols and suggested that she only seek medical help if those didn’t relieve the pain.Better to have me inside the tent…
…before arriving at Palmyra at dusk. Early supper in hotel and early night.
A truly memorable and enjoyable day, despite the fact that I was feeling wobbly throughout and that long journey days are not normally the most memorable/enjoyable.
Daisy dressed for the occasion…Ged not so well prepared for being mobbed by local kids
We tended to be mobbed (by which I mean warmly greeted) by local people almost everywhere we went in Syria (Damascus perhaps the exception). They seemed so pleased to see Western travellers and I proved especially popular with the middle-aged women, as apparently I bore more than a passing resemblance to one of their favourite soap opera stars!
…and then we shopped in the souks etc.
I bought a couple of thobes in the Aleppo souk
I want to write a few general words about our wonderful guide, Abdel. Janie and I have been fortunate to have had many extremely good guides with us for our travels. Abdel, who toured Syria with us for a week or so, was exceptional in every way. He knew his stuff as a guide, judged with great professionalism how much detail we wanted (and didn’t want) in various places and made our touring lots of fun as well as informative. He was a great one for breaking from the itinerary to show us an element of real Syrian life, e.g. to treat us to some snacks in a local place and/or introduce us to the many people he knew all around the country. Abdel also had a wicked sense of humour, teaching me some gutter Arabic and then warning me not to use it in edgy situations.
Abdel and his family lived in Aleppo; Janie and I have often wondered what became of them in the war there. He was a very intelligent fellow – let’s hope he and his family found a way to escape the worst excesses of the devastation there.
Back in 1997, when we were in his home town, he isnisted that we visit his home for dinner that evening.
Dinner at Abdel’s place – spartan surroundings but good food including mulukhiyah and boiled fowl.
Set off for the border – completed formalities with ease (apparently) and then went to Krak des Chevaliers, somewhat against Raymond’s will. Superb crusader castle – huge and interesting.
The border crossing from Lebanon to Syria was the only one in which our driver/guide was allowed to take us across the border some distance and was thus the only straightforward one of this trip. But Raymond (whom Daisy has just described as, “oh yeh, he was a bit of an idiot”) did not want to show us Krak des Chevaliers – he wanted to drive past it as he deemed it a lesser place than the Tripoli citadel.
We got our way. Just as well. Krak was both fascinating and stunning-looking.
Coincidentally, I have recently (Spring 2022: at the time of writing this piece) been in correspondence with cousin Adam Green who was commissioned the preceding year to do an illustrative visualisation of Krak. We have enjoyed swapping pictures and tales of our very different Krak experiences. Adam has (even more recently) written up his tale and posted his wonderful illustration on-line - click here or the embedded link below.
Left Byblos late because Daisy was asking George so many questions.
It is at this point that I need to tell you about George, who was a very patient concierge at the hotel Byblos Sur Mer. We had a few problems and George helped to sort them out. As independent travellers, we wanted to know a few things about the locality and George was very informative.
After Daisy’s especially lengthy interrogation of George alluded to in the above comment, we didn’t see George again during our stay. I supposed that he had been hospitalised with nervous shock or at the very least had jacked in his job.
Every hotel should have a George and indeed, since our stay at Byblos, Daisy and I refer to the especially helpful person that Daisy finds as “George”, regardless of their real name and/or gender.
…then on to Baalbek – stunning temples of Jupiter and Bacchus (Venus?). Shown round by Mohammed himself [driver Bassam had to engage a local guide for us despite my prior familiarity with the place].
JupiterBacchusJupiter & Venus themselves at BaalbekVenus with Baalbek New Town in background
Left Beirut early – drove out through East Beirut – past Byblos and then up into mountains – superb vistas to photograph – to Cedars [see headline photo].
Stunning scenes on the roads up into the mountains
Mist was lifting as we drove up – stayed up long enough for our photos and promptly descended again to pelt down [on us].
Down to Byblos – an old Phoenician ruin (the building, not me)
Toured castle which includes Phoenician and Roman ruins as well as Crusader and Ottoman periods.
You can see Pepe Abed’s in the distance
Rested late afternoon and had dinner at restaurant Pepe Abed’s [aka Chez Pepe] and tried chanchalle? (cheese & tomato) and fresh fish.
Le patron mange ici (mash potato and stewed apple).
In 1997 we did really meet Pépé himself and he really did eat while we were eating there and he really was just eating soft food rather than tucking in to the hearty food we were eating.
People continue (into the 2020s) to claim in their on-line reviews to meet Pépé Abed at his restaurant or at his fishing club, but as he was old as the hills when we met him in 1997 and he died in 2006, my guess is that they now see his son or a “Tribute Pépé”.
All of the Lebanon photos in our album can be seen here and below:
and on to Sidon, by which time sun had turned to rain. Ruined castle– old souk – patisserie.
Then back to Beirut for tour of green line development – shopping and then rest before dinner with Elias Habre at Al Mijana (beautiful old villa in Ashrafieh (East Side).
Beirut CornicheDinner with Elias Habre
Janie had treated the Habre family in London for many years…decades even. Elias Habre was in Beirut at the time and insisted on providing hospitality to us that evening.
Al Majana still seems to be well regarded in 2022 if this review is anything to go by.
All of the Lebanon photos in our album can be seen 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.
Three Weeks Of Bliss? Many Stay Longer!
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.
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:
In those days, Ralph Fiennes was one of my buddies as Lambton Place…
…OK, what I really mean is that I’d quite often see him there and we were nodding acquaintances.
Anyway, Fiennes was doing great theatre work in those days, not least at the Almeida, which was having a heyday under the joint leadership of Iain McDiarmid (also one of my nodding acquaintances in the Notting Hill neighbourhood back then, as it happens) and Jonathan Kent.
I wrote in my log:
Very good production. Ian McDiarmid near stole the show the night we went understudying as Kosykh.
LIST OF SONGS SUBMITTED AND TAPE TRACK LISTING
MARCH TO APRIL 1997 RUN
Dear Mark
Welcome to News Revue!! It was good to hear from you the other day. As promised , here is a starter pack which consists of my latest songs plus some older ones which have longevity or are still topical.
Good luck and I look forward to seeing you soon.
Song Title
Original Title/
Artist on Tape Approx.. No. of weeks performed
7+ 4-6 1-3 New
side 1
plagiarise walk on by / dionne warwick N
labour medley world war two songs by ghastly soldiers 7+
what’s the story boring tory? what’s the story morning glory / oasis N
netanyahu chorus halleluja chorus / handel 1-3
paisley and adams father and son / cat stevens 7+
labour chorus symphony no 1 mov iv / brahms N
john major just cares for my baby just cares for me / nina simone 4-6
tony blair gloria / vivaldi N
hooray for bollywood hooray for hollywood / orignal cast N
i cannot run the government i’ll never fall in love again / ddionne warwick 1-3
side 2
short beckett prescott and the amazing tony blaire simon smith and the amazing dancing bear / alan price 7+
stakeholder economy don’t sit under the apple tree / andrews sisters 7+
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