On Beaches in Lebanon versus Beaches in Europe

I went to the beach yesterday. It’s one of the southern sandy beaches (i.e. beaches south of Beirut). Going to the beach in Lebanon is definitely a different experience than in Europe. More relaxing, I’d say.

 

In Europe, be it France, or Holland, or Belgium, you’ve got to park your car on one of those massive parking lots some 2 kilometers behind the dunes, and then slug all the way up the dune and down again, through the sand, stacked like a packing mule.

Like a packing mule, because you’ve got to haul all your gear in one shot. The beach umbrella, the beach chairs, the towels, the ice box, the inflatable boat, the drinks, the wind screen, the sun screen, you name it.
There is nothing at the beach, so you either carry it yourself, or you’re sitting in the sand. And for every bit of food, or drink, if you haven’t brought it along yourself, you need to slug all the way back, over the dune, back to the lot, where the food stalls are.

 

Food stalls which offer either dried out hot dog sandwiches, or something else equally inedible. By the time you’ve carried your bottle of bee back to the beach, it’s lukewarm.

 

If you’re not an experienced sun bather, and you arrive at low tide, you will probably have set up shop right on the shore line. Subsequently, all your stuff gets washed away while you are somewhere in the surf, much to the amusement of beach goers who have placed their stuff right under the dunes.

 

If you need to go to the bathroom, back over the dunes you go, and you have to stand in line with another 20 ladies for a not-so-clean toilet, without toilet paper (of course).

 

 

And then, at the end of the day, you’ve got to repeat the whole process and drag your stuff, sandy, oily, sweaty and all, back to the car. There is no shower, or just one on top of the dunes, that you have to share with the other 5000 people that went to the beach that day. No changing rooms either.

 

And so after what is supposed to be a relaxing beach day, you arrive home, sweaty, greasy, sandy, dead-dead tired, totally exhausted and then you still have to unpack and cook.

I used to leave the beach early, because 1) I did not want to get stuck in a 2-hour long traffic jam, and 2) I’d be so stressed out from going to the beach that I felt I needed the time to recuperate at home before being able to go back to work on Monday.

 

 

I was contemplating over that, while I lay at this sandy beach in Lebanon. Lebanon, which, by the way, is too dangerous to visit, according to an e-mail I got from a reader, who was contemplating coming here for a holiday. At least that’s the advise she got form people around her. People who probably have not been to Lebanon.

 

Here in Lebanon we do beaches slightly differently. Granted, we do not have dunes, nor a tide.

 

But here we drive to the beach, and give our car to the valet parking, while at the entrance a gentleman takes your bags down to the beach. You pick a spot, and another guy gets you some lounge chairs and a little table. A third guy brings a couple of umbrellas and a little waste basket.

 

And then a waiter drops by and asks you if you’d like to order something. Sure, we’ll have a beer. Lunch? No, maybe later.
There’s an open-air shower as you get out of the sea, or would you prefer the pool? No problem. There are changing rooms, mirrors everywhere, lovely clean toilets, a lounge with beds, and a couple of life guards who make sure your kids don’t drown.

 

You want to move to a place under the thatched roof? No problem. The men come out and move your stuff. The menu gets read to you. A salad maybe? Which one of the 5 choices? Would you like to eat your lunch in the restaurant, or rather at your lounge chair? No, lounge chair will do.

 

And thus you lazily lounge your weekend away, on a sandy southern beach for 20,000 LBP a person (hahaha, bet you want to know which one that is. Granted, for 20,000, you do not get a pool; you’ll have to slum it into the sea). There’s like 20 beaches down that stretch of coast to choose from, all with pretty much the same amenities, or even more up-scale.

 

At the end of the day, you walk back up the board walk (made for you because walking in the sand is so tedious and tiresome), the valet brings you your car, and home you go. And if you’re really disgusting, at home, you let the maid empty your car. Dinner? How bout we call take-out?

 

If you're too lazy to drive down south (or north, because we've got awesome beaches up north as well; some of them sandy, many of them pebbles), how about a city beach? Just amble down the hill in Beirut, and pick one along the Corniche. There's 6 I can think off right now. 7, counting the AUB beach.

 

 

Too lazy to even go home? Heck, have dinner at the beach.

 

Definitely more relaxing than going to the beach in Europe, I’d say. And if you're going to come up with the argument that at least beaches in Europe are free, well, I guess you haven't paid those parking fees! Nor paid the price of the dried out hot dogs and lukewarm beers. Or stood in a 3-hour long traffic jam coming, and another 3-hour one going home.

 

(This post is a partial re-run)