Today is Sunday. Bill is working and I am on my own for the day.
I wanted to buy some running gear. I figured I will be spending quite a lot of time in hotel for the next few months and it’s a good time to get fit. Unfortunately, the shops were pretty much all closed and it was a wasted trip.
I then headed to Hotel Riviera Beirut which is where we went jet skiing yesterday. They have a great beach club and I fell in love with the watermelon and I wanted more. I got there just before 12pm and there were plenty of spaces.
I ordered some fruit and a bright cocktail and attempted to write a bit. I didn’t get far. The sun was shining and I was feeling lazy. I lounged around and mainly observed the fascinating life that was going on around me.
Heavily done up women, many with plastic surgeries; every other man had a chiseled body and a six-pack to go with the fashionable brightly coloured swimming trunks and hair dos. Everyone was equally tanned and if they weren’t they were certainly working hard at it. I was one of very few using sun block, everyone else was using bronzing oil and if that wasn’t enough a tanning cream to make you even darker!
They say Beirut is famous for its nightlife, but Boy! they know how to party during the day too!
Imagine bright blue swimming pools, pumping music, beautiful young people moving to the beat half submerged in water, bright drink in hand. Talking, laughing, flirting, making out, waiters everywhere, attending to every whim, a flurry of activity.
I’d dosed off at some point and I woke up when it good too hot. I had to wake up properly and cool down so I hit the pool. With a bright drink in hand. Hey when in Arab country, do as the Arabs do!
Then I was hungry. I found a remote table in the shade, away from the music. Here the lounge chairs faced the sea and the people were a bit more normal, there were families around. I didn’t realize that service would be so bad in a 5* hotel but after about 15mins of waiting nobody had come with a menu. I had to fight for attention. Normally Bill just shouts ‘Hey habebe!’ and someone runs over. I didn’t want to call a male waiter in an Arab country a very intimate ‘Darling’ so I waited, and I watched and I waved. Eventually I ordered some fried calamari to start with, followed by my much loved seafood linguine again. The watermelon juice I’d wanted didn’t come. The starter was served with the main. Service here is not great. But who cares when everything else is so much fun. Could I ever be impatient or angry when there’s beach and sun and beautiful people around me?
Bill joined me around 4pm, we shared the biggest watermelon juice there was, hung out for a bit, talked and went home around 6pm when the sun had gone down.
We ordered a pizza and watched a film.