Lagos to Beirut

At the end of March I had the opportunity to travel to two new, and interesting places. Lagos (Nigeria in case there can be any confusion) and Beirut (Lebanon).

It was with much trepidation that I approached the first trip. After being promised (perhaps threatened with some might say) a business trip to Nigeria in 2000, and after having what felt like a gazillion injections in preparation for said trip, I never actually went then, or since. I had managed to dodge the bullet a few times, but I could put it off no longer. I wasn’t sure what to expect. People who have been to Lagos either love or hate it, there seems to be no middle ground. Friends of mine have expatted there, and say “never again”, yet I met an Irish lady recently who couldn’t wait to move back there, children and all. The stereo-types are numerous; I wasn’t sure if I would be conned, kidnapped or mugged, or all three. I was very aware that I needed to “be prepared” and so made sure my immigration contact was arranged, as was my driver. I had local phone numbers for emergency contacts I had never met (from friends) saved just “in case”. I was ready!

Lagos airport, or to be precise “Murtala Muhammed International” was pretty much exactly what I expected. What I was completely unprepared for was how hot and humid it was. I am so used to being in air-conditioned everything here in Dubai that I had worn, and packed, the wrong clothes. My colleague and I sweated and shuffled along with everyone else at immigration whilst I tried to reach our “guy” by phone, clutching my laptop bag close to me all the while. It took us such a long time, even with help (he eventually turned up) to get through immigration. Once I was finally done with the interminable process I was all ready to go charging out the door to find our driver when I ran into another road-block – an officious lady had blocked my way demanding to see my yellow fever card. I was not worried about that as I had renewed my inoculation a couple of days before. But of course as it was a South African card I was carrying I was stopped, and almost not allowed entry. Apparently one has to wait 10 days before travelling after the shot – news to me. Secretly I think it had more to do with the kerfuffle over yellow fever that had happened a few weeks before as my colleague did not seem to attract the same level of disdain. After much smoothing of ruffled bureaucratic feathers (by me and our dear immigration helper) we were allowed to proceed albeit after some disapproving tut-tutting.

And there we were, in Lagos. Being driven at what felt like 200 kms an hour around large potholes and other slow moving traffic down the highway and onto the island. We reached the hotel in one piece, and spent another unremarkable day and a bit doing workshops and having meetings. Really uneventful actually (happily). Having been warned by hubby that the drive back to the airport can take hours in some cases I had booked my car back for 11am (flight was at 2 something). I’m not lying when I say that it took us exactly 25 minutes to get to the airport. There was no traffic. I was amazed, and relieved. And I soon discovered I needed the extra time for the unbelievably slow moving queue to exit the country. First impressions? Overall it was better than expected, I didn’t end up with any tummy bugs and I really enjoyed the Nigerian charm and sense of humour. A day and a half isn’t really long enough to form an accurate picture though.

On my return to Dubai there was no rest for the wicked, I got home at around 2.30am, caught a few hours kip (sleep) and then it was back to the airport (this time Terminal 2 groan) with Stu for our long weekend trip to Lebanon. I discovered in the process that an e-gate card will not work twice within 6 hours – so had to have my passport stamped (dammit). And whilst Fly Dubai may be cheap it is certainly not cheerful. Or rather I wasn’t. After we had to pay to check our bag, or have a coffee on-board, I started to miss Emirates. Maybe I was just over-tired and cranky.

Beirut-Rafic Hariri International was happily air-conditioned, and quiet. In no time we had rounded up our “Charlie Taxi” (again on the very good recommendation of a friend who has lived in the city) and were off to our hotel. Not with any great speed though as it seemed we had arrived in the middle of peak hour traffic, or something, as we crawled along very slowly. No matter, it was early and our hotel room was not going to be ready in any case. And it wasn’t. So we dumped our bags and went for a walk. And for the second time in a week I realised I had packed the wrong clothes. It was pretty chilly in Beirut, we could still see snow up on the mountains, and I was in sandals. So our day’s activities included trying to find me a pair of closed shoes, in my size, from shop keepers who spoke no English at all! Anyway we finally found the “Beirut Souk” which is a very modern and fancy shopping mall type complex built on the site of the old shopping area. Complete with designer shops and jewellery stores I felt like I was back in Dubai. In the middle of a massive thunderstorm we ate our lunch under an awning and enjoyed the change of environment.

Our hotel, Le Patio, was very nice and centrally located. Unfortunately for the 3 nights we were there we had neighbours from hell – complete with screaming children (and screaming parents actually) at 3am. It was unbelievable and really spoilt the whole stay as I was exhausted. In fact on the last night the parents clearly went out as it sounded like the kids were singlehandedly remodelling the interior of the hotel room. In the end I complained, I just could not take it any longer.

Besides that we had a very interesting time. We walked mostly everywhere, through the Nejmeh area and along the bustling and narrow streets of Gemmayzeh (where we found a lovely steakhouse called The Gathering). We saw the ruins of the roman baths, and other archaeological pillars and stones that literally looked like they had been tossed on the side of the road. We found a private museum that was fascinating up near the UN building and the Khalil Gibran garden. And then on the Saturday we took a tour in a taxi (was supposed to be with an English driver but he wasn’t so it was a little disappointing but still very interesting). We saw:

• Jeita grotto (no photos allowed so I found this one on the interweb)
  
  

  [source:  http://stateofmind13.com/2011/10/20/13-reasons-to-vote-for-jeita-grotto/]

• Our Lady of Lebanon via the cable car from Harisa (oh Lordy that is high)
  
  

  [Our Lady]

• Byblos and the ruins there
  
  

  [Byblos]

Impressions of Beirut? I think they are not quite where they need to be in terms of tourism. Many of the shopkeepers and so on speak very little English, and appear almost rude. We walked out of a restaurant after not being server for 15 minutes. But the country is unexpectedly green and beautiful. So much to see. The barbed wire and closed streets patrolled by armed guards was a little disconcerting but no one else seemed the slightest bit phased by it. Seeing a church next to a mosque was refreshing, as was being able to have a glass of wine at the street side cafe. I most enjoyed hearing church bells and the call to prayer echoing out over the city.

All in all it was a good week.

Happy May Day 🙂