Sunday, September 5, 2010

Alors on danse

When partying up a Friday night at SkyBar (see my previous SkyBar entry here: High in the sky), there's only one thing that could complete a perfect night of dancing under the stars and brilliantly bright quarter moon: hearing your favourite song. And boy, was our jol made complete!

Lebanese Lantern: I wanna fly, flyyyyyyy with you baby...
Greek sista: Alors on danse...
Sahabte: Pa pa Americano...
Bride cousin: Fly like I do it like I fly like I do it like I fly like I do it like a woman...

And then to top it all off, Greek sista caught the eye of one long-haired barman, scoring us free shooters and a cocktail that happened not to be included on the bill he presented us with.

For a group of four girls, we did well to secure ourselves two seats at the sought-after bar without a booking. And to actually getting in - thanks to tossing in the DJs name and the name of the radio station where DJette works when approaching the bouncer. (It should be added that we made sure to arrive at 9pm, when the party only kicks off at midnight!). The girls at the entrance lobby didn't even glance our way as we passed them and their portable, high-tech electronic-booking systems. While others were being chased away downstairs (I mean, who even tries to get into SkyBar post midnight without a booking - really?!?!), we danced our high-heeled feet off under fire-lit beams and sparkler-filled shooters. And, in true SkyBar fashionista style, Greek sista got her first glimpse of a Louboutin-wearing dolly.

SkyBar barmen greet us upon arrival, seeing as we were of the first people to arrive! Note that there are no women working behind the bar.

Bride cousin called it: the long-haired barman was in love with Greek sista, and admitted to us that he gave us free booze because of her. Thanks sexy Greek!

Lebanese Lantern, Greek sista, Sahabte, Bride cousin.

Dominating the rooftop dancefloor.

And the fire lights come on - and go off... all in time with the moment the beat pops!

Greek sista gets chatted up with the lights of Lebanon flickering behind her and the gorgeous moon peeking over the distant mountain.

That rooftop hawa was really good to shim! www.sky-bar.com

Friday, September 3, 2010

Beirut through new eyes

I love having Greek sista visiting. I see things in a completely different light. Suddenly the buses are fun places to be, not the mode of transport I was threatening to boycott four days ago; Land Rovers are now worth staring at for the hot guys behind the wheel; food looks less 'everyday' and more 'exotic'.

Having visited Lebanon since a little girl, I've grown accustomed to things that people visiting for the first time think are bizarre or totally hysterical. Thanks to Greek sista, I've laughed at some of the most mundane Lebanese occurrences (such as a bus driver using a plastic bottle cap as his gear lever) and stared up in re-ignited awe at buildings I walk past constantly. Here are some of the people and places we came across on our wanderings through the city of Beirut yesterday...

Talk about a job with opportunity to climb the ladder!

Skateboarders at Martyrs' Square in Downtown.

A domestic worker stands on the balcony of one of Gemmayzeh's beautiful old buildings.

Free chocolates from Lebanon's famous chocolatier Patchi.

Working on his phone from his outdoor/ indoor office.

Charbel, the owner of Le Chef where we had a delicious Lebanese cooked lunch, stands in front of the postcards he's received from previous restaurant patrons. 'I place top priority on Irish foreigners - they're the best,' he says, showing off the postcards that come from that country.

Greek sista ordered an Amethyste Sunset Punch with vanilla-infused ice cubes at Amethyste pool lounge at the Phoenicia Hotel. I had an Amethyste Margarita: gold tequila spiked with runny honey, shaken with freshly pressed pineapple and lime juice with a hint of freshly ground black pepper. Saha!

I surprised Greek sista with a visit to Father Elephant after she fell in love with Baby Elephant at Le Gray the night before. These bead-encrusted ellies are the work of Mom's famous artist/ architect cousin Nadim Karam. This one stands in the luxury apartment block opposite Ayyam Gallery where Nadim exhibits.

Caught in the act of shimming el hawa. These guys are enjoying the waters of the glass-cased pool at Le Gray on a gorgeous day in Lebanon with views open to the mountainside.

Introducing Greek sista to Christian Louboutin, we spotted his South African version of these red-soled shoes. I think there are prettier things I could spend with $1 700!

Becoming Pierre's friend

Two things that don't seem natural to me: pebble beaches and paying to gain entrance to the beach. I was blessed with having Muizenberg's loooong sandy beach as my garden for two years, so you can understand my confusion when entering a beach resort sporting a 20-metre-long beach in Lebanon and being expected to pay $20 to cram onto it.

So, in the spirit of adventure (and being money-wise) I took Geek sista to a free-entry pebble beach on Thursday and suffered the bum-in-the-air, feet-flying-overhead, slippery-feet-on-algae-stones consequences.

Our day at Pierre & Friends near Batroun (about an hour's bus trip from Beirut) was well spent laughing at each other's antics in attempting to walk over pebbles and entering strong-current waters where waves kept knocking us down. The rest of the time was spent laughing at all the other people doing the same - which becomes really funny when buff-looking 20-year-olds take a dunk and come up looking like nothing happened - pecks out, abs in!

We celebrated the fact that we came out of the experience alive by having lunch on the deck overlooking said deadly pebbles while listening to the rustic resort's Bob Marley tunes.

Now that's shimming the hawa!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

24 hours in Lebanon

Lebanon is so not the country one would only pop into for 24 hours, but if you only had a day, you'd get quite a good idea of the country if you followed our itinerary on Greek sista's first day of visiting me.

After a whirlwind two months of quitting her job back home in Cape Town, doing a Greek language course in Greece, touring parts of Italy, Albania, Egypt and Cyprus, she took a 25-minute flight from Cyprus (barely having time to buckle up) and landed in Lebanon before 7am on Wednesday morning, shouting the only Lebanese word she knows: yalla, yalla, let's see Lebanon! 'You didn't tell me that even the guys who work at the airport are hot!' I think my hands are going to be full for the next week (wink wink)!

8am: Grab three mne'eesh at a corner saj. Greek sista decided the zaatar (thyme, sumac and sesame seed mixture) 'sandwich' is the best.

9am: Jump on a bus to Hamra and grab an ahwe at Laziz, which is an eatery that brands itself as 100% Lebanese. While sitting there we have an old lady trying to sell us Chicklets (chewing gum), a boy begging us for money and a 50-something man randomly welcoming us to Lebanon as he walks by.

10:30am: Wander through the nearly cobbled streets of Hamra, once the most popular hangout area in Beirut before the war, and now a bustling cosmopolitan hotspot filled with Christians, Muslims, tourists and beggars. Here, we buy pomegranate juice from a man squeezing them fresh on the street, we check out men having their shoes polished while standing on the sidewalk, Greek sista stares admirably at the fashionable headscarves covering Muslim ladies' heads and we pop into H&M for a clothing wander.

11:30am: Enter the gates of AUB (American University of Beirut) and gawk at the sea view from the sports field. We have a picture taken with the army official at the gate (very rarely allowed in Lebanon) and visit the university's museum, filled with fascinating pottery made by ancient civilizations we didn't have the lus to read about. We did, however, have all the time in the world to gawk at the excavated jewellery. Girls will be girls!

12:30pm: Back on the bus to Sassine Square near home. This is where Greek sista, who's been awake since 2am in Cyprus (she had to catch a bus to Larnaca from Limassol), falls asleep, but is suddenly awake, shouting yalla yalla when she hears the bus music mentioning the word. She causes a stir in the bus and goes back to sleep. We head for Malak al Taouk, the popular chicken takeaway, and dig into a taouk made up of thin Lebanese bread spread with garlic dip, french fries, cabbage, tomato and chicken pieces. Yum. Perfect to fill us up for an afternoon siesta.

3:30pm Jump into a taxi that takes us onto the autostrade and into the green mountains of Jeita to see the Jeita Grottos (or Jedi, as Greek sista called them). These stalactite and stalagmite caves are on the voting list for the New 7 Wonders of Nature competition, and contain the most incredible natural history, including the world's longest stalagtite (seven metres). We are allowed access to about 700m and there are apparently another 1 700m inaccessible to the public! No photos are allowed, and there are young guys stationed everywhere who make sure this policy is adhered to. These guys get so bored that they start seeing things in the stalagmite formations. We saw Father Christmas, Bob Marley ('Or it could be Jesus,' one said), two babies, jelly fish, two old men and Nemo. After the top caves, we took a little ferry ride through the magical lower caves, and even filled up a bottle with the cave's refreshingly clear drinking water. (PS. Table Mountain is also one of the New 7 Wonders competition finalists, so get voting for both!) www.new7wonders.com

6:30pm Ask the taxi to drop us in Dora and catch the number 15 'create your own party' bus to the Corniche. Greek sista and I loved the music being played in the bus, and the driver loved that we were loving it. So, because we were the only two passengers, he cranked up the volume big time and we drove through the city with the madman driver nearly throwing us out the door with his sudden stops and starts, clicking fingers and attempting to sing along (or just shouting yalla yalla, in Greek sista's case). There was another excited man who jumped on, and we think that the pic he took with Greek sista is probably up as his profile pic on Facebook right now. We liked his enthusiasm on our party bus... until he threw his Pepsi can out the window.



7pm: Walk along the Corniche. We smiled at men just chilling against the railing (or shimming el hawa - Greek sista quickly added more words to her Lebanese vocab*), the ahwe seller with an American Lebanese accent who showed us the Twin Towers burining on a $20 note, two random men asking to have their photos taken with us, jolly sunset joggers, the traditionally clad villager selling figs out of his boot, the unfriendly mielie seller, guys smoking arguile under the palm trees, ladies sitting on the mosaic benches watching their kids cycle, runners competing in a race, and tourists checking out the biggest Lebanese melting pot of people of every race, belief and political affiliation.


7:30pm: Wave down a service (not that difficult when they're hooting for you to jump in from 200m away!) and catch a 2 000LL lift to Raouche (Pigeon Rock), which we witnessed in the dusky shades of the day, as airplanes flew overhead to the nearby airport and men dined on the pavement.


8pm: Back home for a shower and change before heading out to dinner at Falamanki at around 9:30pm. We sat there till midnight, smoking a cherry-tobacco arguile, drinking local Ksara wine, eating tabbouleh, hummus, labneh, babaghanouj and halloumi with preserved figs, laughing about the day and impressed with everything we managed to pack into less that 24 hours.

I went to bed with my ears ringing to the sound of Greek sista's yalla yalla!

* Shim al hawa literally means 'smell the wind' and is used in a chill-out, enjoying yourself context. Like in 'we're going to chill out at the beach' - we're going to the beach to shim el hawa.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Richard Scott comes to Lebanon!

My favourite South African artist is in one of my favourite Lebanese art galleries. Well, not Richard Scott himself - but one of his colorful works of art. Right here in Beirut.

You can imagine my excitement when I walked into Q Contemporary last week and was greeted by this painting that perfectly suits the gallery's striking green wall next to the entrance. It made me a super happy chappy. I was just not so happy with the plaque that read he's from England. Yes, he was born there, but he's known as a South African artist. I'll have to go back soon to make sure the lady I spoke to at the gallery (who agrees with me) did something about it. I mean, it's not everyday that a South African artist finds himself in Lebanon.

Maybe one day Richard Scott will make it into my home too!

www.richardscott.com

Sunday, August 29, 2010

On shelf

Aisthi’s August/ September issue is out, and it seems I’ve been ‘promoted’ to contributing editor without even knowing. In this issue I have two of the stories I mentioned in previous blogs: the South African interior designer Inge Moore, principal at HBA London, who came to create the new look of the Phoenicia Hotel’s Amethyste pool lounge; and the five restaurants I ‘was forced’ to dine at for a feature on outdoor summer dining in Lebanon. Then, seeing as this issue of the mag has a Latin American theme, there’s also a feature of mine on South Border Gallery in Gemmayzeh, which specializes in art from South America.



To read my feature on Inge Moore, visit http://www.aishti.com/#aishti_magazine and go down to the DESIGN block; the outdoor-dining feature is in the LIFESTYLES section.

Converted to try

In my profile, I describe myself as someone whose blood is Lebanese. I’d like to retract that statement. For someone who hasn’t been interested in rugby since my varsity days when it was still within reach to date one of those strong, fit boys (back in the day when they had better hairdos – jammer Jannie!), I sure showed some South African blood yesterday.

After spending two years competing with rugby for ex man’s attention every Friday evening and Saturday afternoon, I developed a dislike for the game – although maybe this has more to do with preferring a walk on the beach over a dark, rowdy pub. But, sitting here in the peaceful, smoke-free village home, I found myself ditching my computer and joining Dad in front of the TV to cheer for the Bokke as they went on to beat the Wallabies in an epic 44-31 game that had Dad shouting at the screen, causing fat neighbour to pretend to check up on the garden.

Come to think of it, fat neighbour’s body shape isn’t very different from the likes of Guthro Steenkamp. We may just have a found a rugby player in the making. With his penchant for sitting on a seat, he’d make a great reserve.