Beirut: Day 6: Roadtrip to Saida!

I know how incredibly slowly this Beirut series is coming out but time doesn't grow on trees around here and when I do have time I get sucked into a procrastination-bubble that demobilises all my brain cells.

SAIDA/SIDON

Old Caravanserai

Another day-trip out to another corner of Lebanon! After breakfast we hopped into a taxi to the cola intersection (with, I must say, a really nice and dashingly goodlooking - in an older, almost silver fox kinda way - taxi driver who didn't talk much but when we got to the intersection he asked around and made sure we got on the right bus to Saida).

I says bus, but I really mean minibus, in fact what I really mean is one of those old rattly white Mitsubishis vans that can sit about 10-12 people or so if we squeeze and hold your breath (because it was pungent with body odour and second hand smoke). It was quite an experience, being the only "foreign" girls in a van packed with mainly men (who looked a bit like labourers or construction workers) and a couple of head-scarved ladies. The van dashed down the coastal highway, at speeds which, if you hadn't been on a Hong Kong red minivan, would probably have left you with more than just sweaty palms.

In the souks

We managed to arrive Saida in one piece – albeit a little shaken. We took a look at the Sea Castle, decided that we didn’t want to pay to see the interior which would look the same as the exterior, but rather wandered around the souks and wandered into free museums/monuments such as the Debbane Palace (where the entrance was just a random staircase in the souks which anyone could have easily missed), and the Old Caravanserai. We also visited the Soap Museum and learned about the significance of Sidon as an ancient stronghold for trade between Europe and the Middle East. 

But for me, the most enjoyable thing was just getting lost in the souks, children (and old men..but mostly children) yelling HELLO! at these two girls who clearly don’t look like they belong, taking pictures of friendly children (and old men), eating falafel from “the famous falafel uncle” on the roadside while people-watching, trying Turkish/Lebanese sweets from little old sweet shops run by old uncles and grandpas, asking for directions to and being personally escorted to the Grand Mosque by a random one-armed grandpa – who also gave us a silent guided tour of the place (after reminding us to scarf our head before entering the Mosque).

 The problem with having someone guide you is that when they leave you, you don't remember where things are and get lost even more easily. So there we were, two girls looking lost and out of place, going around in circles trying to find a cafe or convenient store for a drink before heading back to the bus terminus for another hair-raising journey back to Beirut. Our lost looks and maps promptly drew the attention of a kind uncle who offered to help, who even more promptly walking us to a bakery + ice-cream shop while telling us his life story on the way. He ended up treating us ice cream, éclairs and water - further contributing to the mind-blowing-ness of how kind and friendly and open people are here.

The Grand Mosque

Shisha uncles outside the Grand Mosque

Falafel!!!

Sweets of Lebanon

....sweethearts of Lebanon..!? :P

We managed to survive the minibus trip back to Beirut, and a not-so-hassle-free taxi ride back home. We even had some energy left to cook dinner for the family and recount our eventful day out.

Oh how I would love to live here for a few more months just exploring the nooks and crannies of each town and city. If only there was no war in Syria next door, spilling it's unnecessary violence across the borders, and if only I had a job that does not confined me to one geographical location. But I am grateful, nonetheless.

The Grand Mosque