Just Back: A breakneck introduction to Lebanon

Nejmeh Square in the heart of Beirut
Nejmeh square in the heart of Beirut

Josh Barry wins £200 for his account of his introduction to a three-month stint of volunteering in Lebanon.

Our driver slams on the brakes just in time to stop us rear-ending the car in front. His gaze returns to the spot of kebab grease on his trousers. Squinting through cigarette smoke, he gives it one last dab with a tissue.

I get out a cigarette of my own. “Ah, excellent. Another smoker,” he says, eyes alight. “Always I am doing a body count when the new volunteers arrive!”

The sun sets over the harbour at Tripoli, Lebanon
The sun sets over the harbour at Tripoli, Lebanon Credit: ALAMY

The driver is Fritz, head of the NGO with whom I’ve come to Lebanon to volunteer. In the hour since we met I’ve learnt enough to know that this black humour is not unintentional.

The phrase “body count” lingers as he takes the highway with great speed and a native disregard for lane division. Leaving the chaos of Beirut’s Armenian quarter behind, we stream up into Jounieh, with its casinos, hotels and boutique malls. “During the civil war there was a big land grab and a lot of illegal development,” Fritz says. “This stretch was just a few mixed villages before.” 

From a mountain on the right Our Lady of Lebanon looks down on us as we pass billboards advertising gun clubs, KFC and a jewellery brand with the tag-line “creating jealousy”.  

Two vast cement factories and the scarred mountain they are consuming herald the start of the plain of Tripoli. We reach the ancient city in fading light, greeted by the rusting hulks of its defunct oil industry.  

Fritz is unfazed by a battered old Mercedes careening towards us on the wrong side of the road as we make our way to the sea under a pink sky, the call to prayer drifting in the air along with a whiff of fish and seaweed.

On the corniche seagulls squawk in the salty haze above hairy-shouldered men playing backgammon and smoking hookahs. Voices hawking watermelon, corn and salvation mingle with rumbling cars playing hectic Arab pop.

I watch a fat man with an eye-patch pass by on a scooter festooned with sacks of pink candyfloss as Fritz slides a CD into the stereo and turns the dial. Something intense and classical floods from the speakers. With opera blaring, our shiny hatchback joins the carousel of souped-up cars. There’s a big grin on my face and the sun appears to be melting into the sea as the sublime German soprano sings.

Back on track we pass Jabal  Mohsen, a grim hillside slum of pockmarked buildings looming over the main road. Fritz points out sniper nests and barricades and the colourless wreck of the car that bombed the nearby mosque, left on the central reservation as a memorial. “And over there they do the best sweets,” he adds.

We can just make out the home-made speed bumps, roadside Virgin Marys and ancient olive groves as we climb towards the village that will be home for the next three months. We arrive in darkness under a blanket of stars. 

Enter the Just Back writing competition for your chance to win £200

Email your entry, in 500 words (with the text in the body of the email), to justback@telegraph.co.uk by midnight on Tuesday, February 7. For terms and conditions, see telegraph.co.uk/tt-justback.

The winner will receive £200 in the currency of their choice from the Post Office.

The Post Office is the UK’s largest travel money provider. It offers more than 70 currencies with 0% commission. Customers can buy selected currencies over the counter at 8,000 branches and all currencies can be ordered for next-day delivery at 11,500 branches. Orders can also be placed online at postoffice.co.uk.  

License this content