beirut at dawn when the city coughs itself awake
just stumbled out of a taxi after 14 hours of planes and layovers that smelled like old potato chips. beirut smells like salt and diesel and something sweet-maybe the ghost of last night's bakeries? i’m writing this from some cafe where they gave me coffee so strong it could restart a dead car battery.
it’s colder than i expected-i just checked my phone and it’s 16 degrees with 63% humidity right now. feels like 15.7 or something. hope you like that kind of thing. my hair’s already doing that weird half-curly rebellion thing it does near water.
kept hearing about how this place got blown to bits in the 80s but honestly? you wouldn’t know. buildings slapped back together with concrete and sheer spite. someone told me they found roman baths under a parking lot last tuesday. five thousand years of people tripping over their own history here. saw bullet holes disguised as ‘artistic texture’ on some facade. these people don’t die-they redecorate.
it’s weirdly hilly-like san francisco’s sleep-deprived cousin. the mountains just lurk there behind everything, judging you for not skiing while also wanting to dive into the mediterranean. yeah apparently you can do both in one day here but i haven’t slept in 32 hours so maybe later.
if you get bored (unlikely), byblos and sidon are just a short drive away. someone told me tripoli’s got this market where you can buy live chickens and counterfeit perfumes at the same stall. chaos tourism, my favorite.
no idea what i’m eating-it’s all lemony and herb-y and they keep bringing me things wrapped in grape leaves. wikipedialike.org didn’t bother listing local dishes but i’m pretty sure that’s parsley salad? or a lawn? unsure. someone told me a waiter here used to be a warlord but that might’ve been the sleep deprivation talking.
it’s 5am. the call to prayer’s mixing with club music from somewhere. this city’s got more layers than my weird onion metaphor. gonna go find where the mountains meet the sea or maybe just pass out on a park bench. either way-beirut’s already chewing me up kindly.
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