Baalbek ruins are stunning monuments to architectural genius two thousand years ago, and organizational effort so far inland -- the granite pillars originated in Aswan, Egypt: just imagine the effort to transport them inland.
Our Hotel Shouman room has a tiny balcony viewing the entrance to the ruined temples, right next to the shrine to Barbara...yes, Saint Barbara who was martyred for her determined conversion to Christianity; she supposedly mocked the pagan temple at Baalbek and was martyred here. That's the story.
I am frankly amazed that so much of the ruins remain -- the various conquerors helped themselves to the pre-cut stones to build their own forts and houses, yet much of it remains. Admittedly, archaeologists have rebuilt portions over the last hundred years, since Kaiser Wilhelm visited here in 1898.
But Coleman and I enjoyed also wandering the old souk, with its narrow alleyways and aromatic bags of spices, and hanging carcasses of sheep and cow (some, notably wrapped in plastic!), and central open drain and chatty shopowners. We enjoyed a genuine fresh falafel -- surprisingly not ubiquitous in Beirut.
We bought some nuts and raisins and bread and cheese, for a later dinner al fresco on our balcony. A cold rainy front moved through, so we also bought Coleman a stylish sweatshirt and sweatpants. The distant hills show more snow now, after last night's precipitation. And the cars driving through the narrow streets are dominated by one brand: Mercedes Benz...it seems that every year is represented, and every state of repair is also represented on the streets of Baalbek, with various colors and rust and rattle honking around each corner. I recall my own trip through the back country roads of Lebanon in 1976 in a similar Mercedes, traveling from Damascus to Jounieh; I also think of the movie images of such vehicles driven by grim-faced guys with kalashnikovs, in the 1980s and 1990s. The time is not too far past, and the memories must be present to the current inhabitants, though the place is peaceful now.
Our Hotel Shouman room has a tiny balcony viewing the entrance to the ruined temples, right next to the shrine to Barbara...yes, Saint Barbara who was martyred for her determined conversion to Christianity; she supposedly mocked the pagan temple at Baalbek and was martyred here. That's the story.
I am frankly amazed that so much of the ruins remain -- the various conquerors helped themselves to the pre-cut stones to build their own forts and houses, yet much of it remains. Admittedly, archaeologists have rebuilt portions over the last hundred years, since Kaiser Wilhelm visited here in 1898.
But Coleman and I enjoyed also wandering the old souk, with its narrow alleyways and aromatic bags of spices, and hanging carcasses of sheep and cow (some, notably wrapped in plastic!), and central open drain and chatty shopowners. We enjoyed a genuine fresh falafel -- surprisingly not ubiquitous in Beirut.
We bought some nuts and raisins and bread and cheese, for a later dinner al fresco on our balcony. A cold rainy front moved through, so we also bought Coleman a stylish sweatshirt and sweatpants. The distant hills show more snow now, after last night's precipitation. And the cars driving through the narrow streets are dominated by one brand: Mercedes Benz...it seems that every year is represented, and every state of repair is also represented on the streets of Baalbek, with various colors and rust and rattle honking around each corner. I recall my own trip through the back country roads of Lebanon in 1976 in a similar Mercedes, traveling from Damascus to Jounieh; I also think of the movie images of such vehicles driven by grim-faced guys with kalashnikovs, in the 1980s and 1990s. The time is not too far past, and the memories must be present to the current inhabitants, though the place is peaceful now.
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