Finding Our Feet

Everyone is welcome in the Western neighbourhood of Hamra, it’s well known as Lebanon’s secular haven, playing host to people from all walks of life. It’s a central hub for students & expats, Christian & Muslims alike to mingle at sidewalk cafes, posh hotels, restaurants, bars and bookstores.

We spend our first weeks in Hamra, but to clarify, we’re not living a diplomat’s lifestyle, no 5-star hotels and no silver service, just good old fashioned DIY expat living.

Before landing in Beirut, in trepidation I booked our 3-Star accommodation online, which had no reviews so we were either in for a shocker or a winner. It’s neither. Our modest one-bedroom self-serviced apartment off Rue Hamra is basic but clean. Everything is at our doorstep - including traffic. Even though we’re a block back from the main thoroughfare, the traffic noise from the 2nd floor is so intense we may as well be lounging in our pyjamas in the middle of the road.

Sleep? What sleep! Never mind the clamor outside, we requested a cot for Mateo but the rickety old thing couldn’t hold itself together let alone my son, so the three of us piled into the small double bed. Mateo was the only one waking up fresh as a daisy. Mikey & I ached all over convinced our son was a ninja in his past life. His erratic/impulsive sidekick to the ribs and karate chop to the face are LETHAL.

Thankfully, we were kindly given an upgrade to a two-bedroom apartment on the 10th floor. What a difference 8 floors make! The lounge is spacious, kitchenette is well equipped & the master bedroom has a queen size bed. I’m in Heaven. Our little ninja moved into his very own headquarters converting his bedroom into a giant crib by jumbling together our suitcases, pieces of bedroom furniture and dining room chairs.

From our large balcony we had panoramic views across Ras Beirut, the Mediterranean Sea and Lebanon Hills. Elevated so high up felt like we were on top of the world. Truth be told, I nearly gagged from vertigo every time I looked down, nonetheless, relieved to have more breathing space from chaos down below. 

Reminiscent of the ocean views back in OZ it felt comforting to look out to The Med and recognise our small but significant achievement in finding a suitable temporary home. “We have found our feet in Beirut” I acknowledge to myself.

I was about to put mine up on the sofa when I heard a hullabaloo in the toilet - sounded more like spurting water followed by squeals of laughter - so I went to inspect. And there I caught Mateo’s head deep in the bidet bowl fascinated by his dad’s demonstration of the porcelain throne. I cry out “Mikey, why have you got your FOOT in the butt washer?” His response was priceless “It’s for washing your feet…no?” he innocently replies.

I wonder what other innovative uses the bidet can offer? I’m sure my fellow travel buddies have some ideas, I’d love to know.

Through the eyes of a child

Welcome to Lebanon! We are finally here in Beirut. Knowing very little about the country before leaving Australia, except its delicious food and it’s not so tasteful history, it still feels really exciting to be somewhere unfamiliar, giving us a fresh perspective on life. In fact, literally and metaphorically, we will be experiencing Beirut through the eyes of a child as the three of us learn a new way of life as an expat family.

Our flight into Beirut went without a hitch. As we began descending my nine-month old Mateo was sprawled out fast asleep on my lap while Michael and I observed from our tiny airplane window the lay of the land for the very first time. Bordered on one side by the Mediterranean, and on the other mountain ranges, Beirut seems a city suspended between the sky and the sea. From arid hills to lush forests, fertile plains to sprawling city it truly is a land of contrast, who knows what to expect down below.

 

Michael and I stared wide eyed at each other with the same nervous expression - this is it, we are actually going to live HERE!

As soon as we touched down at Beirut airport, the young customs lady took a real liking to Mateo, already he is learning to flirt with the ladies (oldies included) and all thanks to him our exit was swift. He even received kisses on the cheek on the way out! Who said travelling with a nine-month old to the Middle East was a bad idea? Lebanese people LOVE kids and I have a feeling Mateo is going to be our winning ticket in this country.

Along with our four oversized suitcases, a stroller and baby seat, we squished into a classic black Mercades taxi. The driver was dismissive as he watched Michael fix the baby seat to the backseat of his cab “Yoou’re wasting yoour time, no one uzez zem ‘ere” he smirks. The way he was driving - a “maniac” is an understatement - I was slightly relieved Mateo was strapped in.

It was literally a white-knuckle ride. While the driver had one eye on the road, the other on us, one hand on the horn, the other gripping a mobile phone, full pedal to the metal I braced myself for what felt like our one and only ride in Beirut.

As a distraction, not that the driver needed it, we made small talk to kill time (pun intended). With our mix of English, French and Arabic we interconnected words to make conversation. Looking at Mateo in the rear-view mirror the driver shouts in his thick accent, reiterating with hand gestures “Wherre are yoou from? Yoour sun looks like won of us, yani, loook at his fase, his skin and his eyez!”

When I explained that we’re a multinational family a mix of Australian, Swiss and Egyptian he was so chuffed because he lived several years in Switzerland, has cousins living in Sydney, and Lebanese people especially like their Egyptian neighbours, so we’re definitely in the good books. “Yoou w’ll have no broblem ‘ere we like Ejypshians, they’re veery friendly! You are veery wellcom ‘ere” he warmly replies.

Thankfully we arrived at the serviced apartment in Hamra with shot nerves but in one piece. Feeling too tired to go out for dinner we ordered our first home delivery, a mixed grilled platter for two that could feed the Lebanese Army. Watching Arabic pop videos on cable TV stuffing ourselves with our oversizes feast of meat, dips, pickles, salad & Lebanese bread I looked across at Michael who’s reflecting the same smirk on his face - this is it we ARE actually living here! Its early days I know but I feel that we are going to be very happy in Beirut, I'll keep you posted.