In Lebanon war is over. Samantha Laurie joins the resurgent tourist trail to a cradle of civilization...
Imagine visiting the Pantheon and discovering you’re the only person there. Or strolling up to the entrance gates of the Colosseum and finding there’s no queue.
Ancient wonders rarely come without their wonderers, but at 9 am on a Sunday morning we are the only visitors at Baalbek, home to some of the largest and most celebrated Roman temples in the world and one of the Middle East’s most prized archaeological gems.
With its overgrown pathways strewn with fragmented columns and carvings, Baalbek has a magical, otherworldly air.
We linger on the 2000-year-old steps of the ornate Temple of Bacchus, conjuring up the sounds and sensations of the long-gone days of the empire and gazing over the partially excavated ruins of a once magnificent 30,000-strong city.
The Romans loved Lebanon with its fertile, vine-friendly soils and mild climate, but their most majestic stronghold here has – until recently –been off-limits for Western travellers.
Closer to Damascus than Beirut, it is situated in the heartland of Hezbollah, the Shiite Islamic group rarely off our TV screens in the 80s for its atrocities and kidnappings during the 15-year Lebanese Civil War. Today Hezbollah is a major, fast-growing force in the politics of the country and a key player in the delicate power-shared peace.
It’s hard to ignore the armed tank that stands guard outside our Baalbek hotel or the shelled-out remains of the Holiday Inn in central Beirut – and all this before the anti-government protests that have brought thousands onto the streets since October.
Yet in general, Lebanon feels safe and its war-weary residents are delighted to see the return of tourists. “Welcome to Lebanon!” shouts everyone from the stallholder selling Hezbollah T-shirts to the men smoking shisha in the pavement cafes.
Explore is one of the first British tourist groups to return, and when its twice-weekly tours first launched last summer they sold out as quickly as they came online.
There’s no shortage of reasons why: the food is wonderful – even the most basic café serves up delicious mezze of tabbouleh, fattoush and baba ganoush – and the lush Bekaa Valley wine industry is booming, with over 50 wineries and a burgeoning reputation for indigenous grapes.
And there’s a lively drinking and clubbing culture, a hangover from Beirut’s Swinging Sixties reputation as a playground for the rich and famous.
But the real draw is history – this small seafaring nation has seen more civilizations come and go than just about anywhere else.
The beautiful Mediterranean seaside town of Byblos, just 20 km from Beirut, is among the oldest continually inhabited places on earth.
Settled by the Canaanites – a Semitic people dubbed Phoenicians by the Greeks – from around 5000 BC, it saw the development of the world’s first fully matured alphabet, and in its tombs archaeologists discovered a royal sarcophagus with the earliest ever inscription (circa 1000 BC). Freely translated: ‘Open me and you’ll perish!’
With its bougainvillaea- and jasmine-fringed cobbled streets and its quaint harbour, Byblos is a joy. We wander through the lively bars of the old souk – so plentiful are the ancient sarcophagi here that restaurant owners use them as flowerpots – climb the Crusader castle and descend deep into the necropolis, before finishing off the day at Dar al Azrak, a superb fish restaurant on the pier.
All a far cry from the noisy, heavily armed capital, but Beirut too has plenty to offer the curious.
The National Museum is a must: once overrun with militia fighting from the balconies, it has been completely rebuilt and the basement – where its far-sighted curators stashed precious relics behind a fake wall – is a treasure trove of wonders.
It takes an adventurous traveller to visit a land like this.
The infrastructure is creaky, to say the least: there are daily power cuts and a government stand-off with private rubbish contractors has left uncollected litter everywhere.
Religious divisions are prevalent in shops, cafes and residential areas – and deepening, say, locals – while at least two million Syrian refugees sit camped by the roadsides, adding to the complexity.
And yet, for all that, this resourceful and educated nation feels on the up. Tourism offers glimpses of the future.
En route to the cedar forests, we stop at an agrotourism project set up to showcase the produce of local farmers.
Here rural ladies with huge beaming smiles have brought their speciality dishes to serve up at a giant buffet: a fabulous feast of colour and taste, washed down with a fine local rosé or – for strong stomachs – arak, the punchy Levantine liquor.
The Romans, safe to say, would have loved it.
Explore’s eight-day trip starts at £1,615pp to include flights, internal transfers, accommodation, some meals, local guides and an Explore Leader. Flight time: 4 hours 45 mins. Average group size: 12. For further info visit: explore.co.uk
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