Four down, one to go. These months in Beirut have left a lasting impression.
Beirut is Trondheim. Mar Mikhael's combination of car workshops and culture. Burning gas through a 1980s heater as the cold tears through uninsulated windows.
Beirut is rainy Saturdays at Souq al-Ahad, buying new old clothes with favourite familiar faces. Taxi etiquette, Aamiyah grammar and the power of PC.
An amber-coloured Easter holiday, hangover getaway to an Aarhus-flavoured Cairo. Morning vodka with Vega on a dazzling terrace, defending the honour of a 1 foot tall white furry best friend.
A retina-threateningly bright windowless office. Pebbly beaches, Sunday traffic. The Lebanon that is not for visitors. Aching joints, mosquito bites and the view from a 6th-floor Geitawi window.
Arcing over all of it: The Corniche, Saifi, Saida, servees. Hummus, tabouleh and falafel. An apartment in Mathaf. Almaza. Tam Tam, Richard and the unforgettable Fustu. The Lebanese and their own Lebanon.
Beirut is Trondheim. Mar Mikhael's combination of car workshops and culture. Burning gas through a 1980s heater as the cold tears through uninsulated windows.
Beirut is rainy Saturdays at Souq al-Ahad, buying new old clothes with favourite familiar faces. Taxi etiquette, Aamiyah grammar and the power of PC.
An amber-coloured Easter holiday, hangover getaway to an Aarhus-flavoured Cairo. Morning vodka with Vega on a dazzling terrace, defending the honour of a 1 foot tall white furry best friend.
A retina-threateningly bright windowless office. Pebbly beaches, Sunday traffic. The Lebanon that is not for visitors. Aching joints, mosquito bites and the view from a 6th-floor Geitawi window.
Arcing over all of it: The Corniche, Saifi, Saida, servees. Hummus, tabouleh and falafel. An apartment in Mathaf. Almaza. Tam Tam, Richard and the unforgettable Fustu. The Lebanese and their own Lebanon.
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