Sorry for the wait to you two or three solid friends out there who obligingly keep up with my blog. The last month (or two?) has been crazy and extremely boring all at the same time over here. Bad teachers, bad weather and just all together bad mojo has come and gone. Sadly my camera remains out of commission, nonetheless there is light at the end of the tunnel. Fuck I only have two months left out here. I feel somewhat guilty for not being sadder about it, but what can you do? I’d seriously contemplate selling my soul for some good qeso, that’s how bad it’s gotten.
I did make three trips to Lebanon since my last post. My first reaction of Beirut was “TREES!” yes there are trees there. Real ones. The ocean was next and then legs, womens legs to be specific. I’ve heard it referred to as the Paris of the Middle East in the past, but it’s become my Vegas. Like a junkie needing a fix I gravitate to it. Greenery, women, booze, LIFE! The order varies but the ingredients don’t. I’ve heard there are many things to do and see in Beirut, but I wouldn’t know. Beirut is the place to do nothing. It is the place to almost be out of the Middle East for a day. To sit on your ass and enjoy good weather and good views.
Out of the many places I’ve stayed in Beirut there are two that will forever be with me. One is Casa d’Orr which is probably the nicest place I’ve stayed in over here. Real beds, suggestively placed mirrors and a wonderful breakfast. Can’t beat it. However the one that will forever be seared into my mind is the glorious Hotel Talal. For a mere $10 US a night you can have your very own undersized twin bed complete with pink princess blankets. There is always a young guy manning the desk, ready to drink tea and talk bullshit whenever it is that you may actually arrive to this gem. A fridge full of beer that’s operated (successfully from what I understand) on the honor system. I love this “Hotel”. Now you may think you detect sarcasm here but it simply doesn’t exist. I adore it in spite of the pink, hell maybe because of the pink blankets. Miss it already, wouldn’t learn a lick of Arabic there, but what a blast.
