What a Year!

I’m reading Chris Evans’s autobiography at the moment, and he prefaces each chapter with a Top Ten. And given that we’re nearing the end of a decade, it’s not a bad way to summarise the year.

Here’s mine for 2009...and I have to say - it wasn't easy just picking 10 highlights.  It's been an interesting year.  Started with a bit of a bump and then turned into nothing short of awesome.  I'm already very excited for 2010...

10. Bingo. No, really. For one short month we discovered, and loved, bingo. The fact that this was combined with half price wine and food was just a happy coincidence. Bingo, we miss you.
9. Ramadan. I actually got to work slightly shorter hours this year which meant much more time for socializing, and the gym. And Ramadan does of course, mean Iftars…
8. Chi. It has to be the world’s cheesiest club, but I’ve had more hilarious nights out here than I care to admit. Having the lovely Harris just a hop skip and a jump away in Oman has meant many many lost weekends in there. Thank god my mum isn’t on Facebook to see the photographic evidence.
7. Sri Lanka. One of the most gorgeous places in the world. Private villa on the beach, with chef, yoga teacher and houseboys attending to my every whim. I don’t need complete luxury like this, honestly, I’m actually very easily pleased…..
6. Saturday Sundowners. It’s a tradition as old as time itself…well if you live in a sundrenched country I guess. Before gearing up for a hard week at work there’s nothing like sinking your toes into the sand/propping up a bar watching the sun set, in a sun dress and shades.
5. Beach Club. A Friday ritual. We spend a great deal of time comparing notes on which is our favourite, but really, there’s not much in it. Luxurious sun-loungers, delicious food, wine on tap, oh, and sun, sea and blue skies. Throw in great company and a stack of celebrity magazines, and you have the perfect recipe for lazy day off. However hard the week has been, and they can be tough, it’s hard to say stressed when floating in the sea looking back at the insane and beautiful skyline of Dubai.
4. Beirut. If the Sun had written a headline to describe that trip, it would have to be: Busty Blonde Brit Babes Cause Bedlam. A hilarious riotous adventure from start to finish. If I’m having a bad day a sneaky peep at the photos cheers me right up. And normally results in loud guffawing.
3. Family – in Dubai and the UK…The Dubai Family. It’s been said before, but really, I’m blessed to have found some really wonderful friends here…you all know who you are….The UK Family. Laydeeeees! And some gents….You’re out of sight but never out of mind. Your emails, texts and phone calls make me laugh, cry and miss you even more. You’re always welcome here for visits…
2. Safari. The most amazing trip, ever. Animals, scenery, people, company. Bliss.
1. Christmas. Spending time with the people that you love, in a place that you love…what’s not to love?!

Beirut: Part 2

So, onto the fun. Or mayhem, whichever you want to call it. Beirut is full of bars and clubs and its reputation certainly precedes it. On announcing our trip in the office people were literally beating a path to my door to impart tales of where we must go, best places to eat, drink and be merry. Thanks to Salam who I think spent a good 30 minutes giving me advice - with maps/drawings and dress codes all listed out! And so much hospitality: you must meet up with my friends/brother/family and they will take you out - thanks to everyone for being so, so sweet.

One very refreshing part of Beirut, quite literally, is that you can walk around, not only are there (shock horror) pavements, but it's also a good deal cooler than Dubai right now - drops to about 22 at night. Combine this with the fact that there are whole streets full of bars (think the Northern Quarter in Manchester or Greenwich in NYC) and it all adds up to a very cool night out.

The first night we started off by hitting Gemayze street - bar after bar after bar. I mentioned the blonde thing being a bit of a novelty, yes? Ok, so no sooner are we out of the cab than it starts, flash bulbs, car horns, people stopping us to talk......hilarious. And it continues inside the bars - but it's not sleazy, even groups of girls are chatting away to us. Everyone is just super friendly, which takes a bit of getting used to when you're a cynical Brit! It's a real mixture of people, of course Lebanese, but groups from Dubai, the States, all over.

And once you're tired of a bar - well you just rock up to the next one. Things don't get going til pretty late in Beirut - much like Dubai. We didn't leave the bars for the club until 3 am. Yes, 3 am...And the club we headed to is a little different to those in Dubai - basically because you can't see it from above the ground. It's an underground bunker - a real one, left over from the war, that's been converted into a club. Call me old fashioned, but since when has it been de rigeur to have club so dark that you can't see your hand in front of your face? Maybe it's my age. The other main difference is that at about 5 am, the roof comes off, and you dance underneath the stars. Fabulous.

Anyway, thanks to the Dubai wedding gang for very kindly hosting us at their table...so, so, much fun was had. And when leaving – there’s a variety of people competing for your attention to offer you a taxi ride home. We decided on a guy called Joe – well, you have to, don’t you – and decided that by taking our photos with them we at least had evidence if he did turn out to be a murderer. Seemed logical at the time! By 6 am we were a little on the hungry side having skipped dinner for a disco nap, so we then began a tour of Beirut on the hunt for manakish. I’ve definitely mentioned these here before – we have them every Thursday morning in the office – for those non Middle East dwellers they are gorgeous flat breads filled with cheese and then anything else you like – I went for olives. A bit like the UK equivalent of heading to the chippy or the kebab house after a night out!

Even the manakish take-away became a huge social event, with the entire place stopping to check out the crazy English blondes…..and refusing to let us pay for them. Bless.

So, onto night two. After the prerequisite disco nap, we donned our finest and headed out. No Skybar or White as the world’s biggest thunderstorm chose that moment to erupt – not that it stopped us, of course. After a quick drink in the Buddha bar (enormous, 3 floors of gorgeous people partying) we headed to Monot – another street load of bars and clubs. Despite our taxi driver speaking no English or French we discovered that the international language of party will get you want to be: just say DISCO and boom! You’re at a club. Very different to the previous night, this was very much a local place, with lots of Arabic music – and even a signer and keyboard! Not speaking a word of Arabic meant we weren’t really sure of what was going on, but judging by the way the crowd went wild, we think he was singing pop songs. The ‘Heigh Ho Silver Lining’ of Beirut, if you will.

Again, we were the only blonde girls to be seen in the place which led to the inevitable attention. Thanks to the bar staff, the Beirut Richard Branson, and countless others for the free flowing drinks and seats in the VIP section. Come 3 o’clock and it’s clearly way too early to be heading home, so we left and headed to Casino.. Not an actual Casino, a club. I’ve since been told by Lebanese friends that this is a ‘Beirut Mafia’ hang-out. Whoops! It certainly explains a lot!

Time to go home and of course no night out is complete without a complete photoshoot with the local militia. Yes, we hung out with the army boys who are so kindly stationed outside local hostelries to ensure your safe return home. Suffice to say it’s a story that I think they’ll be dining out on for years. Bless them. So sweet. 22 is WAY too young to be in the army. The next day was a bit of a blur and we only managed dinner and drinks in the evening. Getting on a plane with a hangover was not high on my list of priorities.

So there you go. No wonder I’m exhausted now. Non-stop. You are of course reading a slightly sanitized version of events: what goes on in Beirut, stays in Beirut. Mum: I did behave myself, honest. Those that know me, KNOW.

Beirut Bedlam

Yes, we survived Beirut. Or should that be: Beirut survived us? It's safe to say that we fully embraced everything the city has to offer. We gave and gave until it hurt. Where to start?

Firstly, the serious stuff. Beirut is GORGEOUS. It looks like Cannes when you come into land, rolling green hills with hotels and apartments built into them. And the European feel continues when you head into the city. It's just like Paris. And everyone speaks French, which adds to the effect. Yes, I spent the whole weekend speaking French - amazing how it comes flooding back to you after a few (ahem) g and t's.

Our hotel was in a seriously cute residential/shopping area (near the ABC mall, fellow Beirut travellers) which meant that literally ten steps from the door were all sorts of gorgeous restaurants, bars, shoe shops. Bliss. And the actual mall was a far cry from the sterile and anodyne malls in Dubai, this was partially open air, with lots of foliage and breezes. Oh and because Lebanon isn't a Muslim country, you can have a glass of wine (ok, a bottle) with your lunch, without having to be in a hotel. So lots of relaxed cafe culture vibes in full effect. Yes, people of England, this might sound tame to you, but after a year and a half in Dubai, this is great news!

Sightseeing: there's a lot to see in Beirut and the surrounding areas. the actual city is so gorgeous. The downtown area has been restored after the war, and looks just like a Parisienne arondissement. There's even Roman ruins to take a look at. Spent many a hungover hour checking it all out, with frequent food/wine breaks, natch.

Thanks to our NBF Joe Le taxi (a taxi driver who was really called Joe: genius) we had our own personal driver for the trip, who scooted us round the whole city (nothing like spending hours in a car with a wicked hangover). He even took us out into the hills to Jeita where we spent a hilarious, if painful few hours exploring caves and countryside via cable car, boat and train (no really). It was a little like the Krypton Factor crossed with Survivor. Or maybe that was just the previous night's antics catching up with me.

So, that's the serious culture/sightseeing part wrapped up. What about the rest? They call Beirut the Ibiza of the Middle East....and if by that you mean you can have the most insane nights out ever, where anything goes, then yes, it deserves the title. I'll keep it short as quite frankly, there's so much to tell when you've been out til 6 am each night, and also, I suspect some of the stories are only truly hilarious if you were actually there.

Some highlights will follow soon....I'll preface them by saying, if you're blonde, female and western in Beirut, you're definitely a novelty. And you attract a LOT of attention. You can't walk 2 paces down the street without every car honking and trying to pull over and pick you up. Which really isn't as predatory as it sounds....

Beirut, Baby!

So, I'm planning a quick jaunt over to Beirut. I'll be honest, before I moved to the Middle East it wouldn't have been on my list of possible destinations. Any news of Beirut was mainly focused on their troubles. But since moving here that's changed - Beirut is the party capital of the ME, don't you know.

There's a huge Lebanese population in Dubai, and in my agency, so I have a plethora of top tips/places to go/people to meet up with. My main dilemma: outfits. Lebanese girls (and boys, to be fair) take their appearance very seriously. It's standard procedure to come to work in outfits that frankly, I would consider risque even for a big night out. Think scouse, but without the fake tan: cropped tops, strapless tops, one-shoulder tops, skin-tight low-cut jeans, and of course, sunglasses indoors. I'm really going to have to up the ante in the wardrobe department!

As the rule states: What happens in Beirut, stays in Beirut, but you'll get an (edited) update on my return....