Everything in Beirut has the forgiving blue light of the Mediterranean, its outstretched arms embracing the city’s spirit, and it offers an escape from its warring neighbors. The sea is at the heart of its culture and the people nurture that link to those countries not that far away. If you squinted really hard while standing on the Corniche, you could see the Eiffel Tower, almost.
Sure, there’s just enough Homelandiness with sprinkled razor wire and heavily armed forces filling open-air Humvees to make you pay attention, but the people there don’t even notice. That’s just me and you watching too much 24 and Bourne.
The city has giddy gleeful romance.
The streets are alive with music and laughter and art and a sense that nothing could possibly go wrong even with the headline news that meets its borders. It is safe to go. I met many Americans. Beirut is a beautiful bubble of great food, sultry air, and the timeless hope that this tranquility will last forever.
