"Im down there since yesterday and till tomorrow morning. Never seen anything so beautiful. We re right behind brent sadler, turn to cnn for the view i have"

Ottawa - Parliament Hill - Lebanese Demonstration against Foreign Hegemony
February 26, 2005

Monday 21st of February.
Montreal, -10 degrees, 1/2 a meter of snow.

3 months ago, on the 27th of November, this article was published in FT.
2 articles, 3 months apart... surely something is brewing.

Here, FT captures the uniqueness of Beirut/Lebanon. The generosity of the people, the bonhomie of the spirit... A tradition that survived many wars, and has risen like the phoenix, brighter with every resurrection.

With 35bn dollars of national debt and a declining economy, it seems surreal that such an article could be written - depicting a flame that will burn bright until its final breath.

Of all that which makes us who we are, the mountains, the beaches, the snow, the sand, the springs, the greens, the pines, the cedars... our generosity defines us the most.

As such, a Lebanese is a Lebanese wherever he may be.

Immigration officials at airports the world over tend to be a dour bunch
- repetitive strain from all that rubber-stamping perhaps -
but not in Beirut. Bleary-eyed from having flown in at 4.30am, I
returned from the currency exchange booth to find the two friends I
was travelling with deep in conversation with an immigration official. I
imagined there was a problem of some kind, but as I drew
closer I realised they were bantering, among other things about where to
find the best Lebanese food in town.

"My mother cooks the best," he said in characteristically Mediterranean
fashion. "I invite you to my home." They looked uncertain.
"I mean that," he insisted.

On the flimsiest of pretexts, the baby-faced, khaki-clad official then
waived their visa fees and wished them a pleasant stay.
Beirut's charm offensive starts early.

In the past 3 months I counted more articles written about Beirut/Lebanon than I had in the entire 24 months before.
Whatever the topics, the tones, the tales being told, it was clear that Beirut had returned to its international limelight.

The question then becomes, to what end? Have we returned to our former glory, or is it just superficial cladding on festering wounds?

Either way, this is the end of an era...

The last fling
By David Gardner
Published: February 5 2005 02:00 | Last updated: February 5 2005 02:00

It is midnight on Saturday in downtown Beirut and the Buddha Bar is heaving. A cavernous copy of its Parisian namesake, with a 20ft- high Buddha statue as its presiding spirit, the bar is just the latest incarnation of the Lebanese craving for novelty and gift for fun.

The son of a Maronite Christian warlord assassinated, allegedly by the Syrians, during the 1975-90 civil war, thrusts his way through the throng to the bar with the help of a bodyguard out of central casting: black T-shirt, tailored leather jacket, wrap-around shades and designer stubble.

A vast Johnnie Walker whisky icon towers over the bar itself, causing one regular patron to observe that, "almost everything that takes place in this city happens under the eyes of Johnnie Walker".

Beirut, it would appear, is back in business, restored to its pre- war position as the playground of the Arab world.