The last sunset in Beirut
I'm sitting at a small café on the Corniche, watching the sun disappear behind the Mediterranean. My last sunset in Beirut. I've spent the afternoon wandering around this fascinating city, trying to absorb as much as I can before tomorrow's departure. It's strange how quickly five days can pass when you're constantly discovering new things.
This morning, I finally made it to Jeita Grotto. I booked the tour yesterday after realizing I'd been putting it off. The 8:30 pickup came right on time (which I appreciated), and we drove north of the city into the mountains. The limestone caves were absolutely spectacular - among the most impressive natural formations I've seen on this journey. The lower grotto required a boat ride through an underground river, with massive stalactites reflected in the crystal-clear water below. The upper grotto was even more breathtaking - enormous chambers with formations that have been growing for millions of years.
Our guide explained that the caves were discovered in 1836 by an American missionary, and have since become a symbol of Lebanese natural heritage. Photography wasn't allowed inside, which was initially frustrating but ultimately forced me to be fully present in the experience rather than viewing it through a screen.
After returning to the city around 2pm, I headed to the Mohammad Al-Amin Mosque as planned. Its blue dome and Ottoman-inspired architecture dominate downtown Beirut. I arrived during a quiet period between prayer times and was welcomed to explore the interior. The vast prayer hall with its intricate carpets and calligraphy was peaceful and cool compared to the afternoon heat outside.
Then I walked to the Corniche for one final stroll along the seaside promenade. The weather has been surprisingly pleasant today - 20°C and sunny, a welcome change from the cloudy conditions earlier this week. The Mediterranean stretched endlessly to the horizon, that particular blue that seems impossible to capture in photographs.
I found myself thinking about the news I read this morning about the airstrike in southern Lebanon yesterday. It's sobering to realize that while I've been enjoying the hospitality and beauty of this country, there's ongoing tension just hours away. The contrast between my tourist experience and the complex reality facing Lebanon is something I've been reflecting on throughout my stay.
As I sit here now, watching families walking along the promenade and fishermen casting their lines into the darkening water, I feel a mix of gratitude and melancholy. Beirut has surprised me in so many ways - its resilience, its complexity, its warmth. Five days is nowhere near enough to understand this place, but it's been enough to make me want to return someday.
My bag is mostly packed for tomorrow's flight to Istanbul. I've left out only what I'll need in the morning. It's hard to believe I'm already 159 days into this journey. Almost a third of the way through. Part of me feels like I just left Kristiansand, while another part feels like I've been traveling forever.
The waiter just brought me a final Lebanese coffee, thick and fragrant with cardamom. I've grown quite fond of it, though it's very different from what I'm used to. As I sip it slowly, I watch the last sliver of sun disappear, leaving behind a sky painted in purples and oranges. The city lights are beginning to twinkle on, and the evening call to prayer echoes softly across the bay.
Beirut, you've been a revelation. Until we meet again.
Day 159 of 500: 341 days remaining