"Iran? Are You Mad?"

Stained-glass windows of Masjed-e Nasir-al-Molk, Shiraz

My trip to Iran was at least 5 years in the making. It was either a case of not finding the right time, worrying about the visa, or having to deal with my mum who vehemently rejected the idea. But as they say, some things are better late than never. This entry hopes to fill information gaps you may still have about this beautiful country.

Is it safe?

Tehran's iconic Azaadi Tower

Often the first question people ask about Iran because of all the negative media attention the country gets. Some colleagues of mine thought I'd lost my marbles when I told them where I was going. But I'd go as far as saying that Iran is as safe as Singapore. People don't bother you because you're a tourist. Instead, they're as curious about you as you are about them. They'd want to know what made you decide to visit Iran, what your experience of their country has been, or if you've run into any trouble. Don't be surprised if you randomly get invited to tea/lunch/chat with locals. I didn't though because I apparently looked Iranian (that's a story in itself, which I'll leave for another blog entry).

Aren't all Iranians fiery-eyed and anti-American/Israeli?

UNESCO-listed Persepolis

Granted, I witnessed two rallies against the US, Israel and Saudi Arabia (for the bombing campaign in Yemen), but these attracted small crowds of about 100 or 200 at most.
Here's another story: the first meal I had at a sandwich joint, I was asked if I'd like Pepsi or some other carbonated drink. It took me a while before I realised I was actually drinking a can of Pepsi (Coke is available too)! Some things, as they say, are worth way more than principles.

Should I really go to Iran? I don't want to be spending money in a country with a regime like that..

Oh don't worry about it. Your government is probably doing that already. Like I said, some things are worth more than principles.

Aren't all the women covered up in burqas?

Courtyard of a traditional house in Kashan

Women in Iran don't don the burqa, they wear chadors (literally tents, though the same word in Hindi and Punjabi means blanket). Then again, not everyone does. You'll see women who conceal their hair under their headscarves, while others show off fringes and part of their crowns. Some forearms are also visible (especially in the big cities like Tehran) and make up and nail polish are not unheard of. Of course, as with any other country, religiosity varies from city to city, town to town. For instance, I saw more women in chadors in Yazd than in Tehran or Esfahan. One of my bus drivers was a woman too.

Speaking of women..
If you're a guy and are introduced to a woman, shake her hand only if she offers it first. The same applies with family members.

Contemporary art exhibition, Tehran

So as a tourist, how much must I cover up?

Women are required to wear a scarf and dress modestly, which means no tank tops, no spaghetti straps, no shorts/skirts. Loose pants and tops would be best, though I saw some Iranian women in relatively tight jeans. If in doubt, go with slightly loose bottoms. Same goes for the tops. Men too have to adhere to some rules: no tank tops, no shorts. T-shirts are fine. In fact, some Iranian men themselves have a thing for wearing tight tees to show off how hard they've worked in the gym.

Dome of Masjed-e Sheikh Lotfolla, Esfahan

OK..but what about getting INTO the country in the first place?

Citizens of most countries can obtain a visa on arrival (for a 2-week stay) unless otherwise stated. The cost depends on where you're coming from. For Singaporeans, it's 60 euros. When you arrive at Imam Khomeini International Airport in Tehran, go to the Foreign Affairs/Visa counter. They might ask you for a visa authorisation code, as I was. I just told them I was applying for a VOA and they gave me a form to fill. Once that's done, go to the bank adjacent to the counter and make payment for your visa. Then you have to go back to the visa counter and hand over your passport, the filled-up form and receipt from the bank. Make sure that you have the name and contact number of the hotel you're staying at. The officer may also ask for a mobile number of someone in Iran. If you don't have a friend in the country, try getting the mobile number of whoever it is you've liaised with for your hotel stay. Oh, and make sure you come with travel insurance. Then again if you don't, there's a counter right across from the visa office for you to make the purchase.

How do I get around?

Golestan Palace, Tehran

Tehran has a modern metro system (4 lines are operational), otherwise you could try haggling for a taxi. Speaking of which, there are two fare systems for cabs -- dar baste (closed door) and na dar baste (open door). The former means you'll have the cab for yourself, the other allows for other passengers heading in a more or less similar direction to share the vehicle with you at a cost of 20,000 rials (about 60 US cents). As for inter-city travel, you can opt for buses, trains or flights. I took buses all over the country and they were really comfortable. I've heard a similar report about the trains.

Can I use my credit/debit cards in Iran?

No. They won't work due to the sanctions imposed on the country. So bring everything you need in cash (USD, Euros or UAE Dirhams). It also means that your bus, train and flight tickets have to be booked in Iran itself, unless you have a friend there who can do it for you before you get there.

How expensive is it?

Tourist sites will set you back by about 3-5 US dollars each, although Lonely Planet's 2012 edition claims otherwise. But if you look Iranian and manage to get a local ticket, you'd pay just about 50 cents per entry.
A latte costs about 2.50-3 US dollars, and lunch at a decent enough restaurant can set you back by at least 5-8 US dollars (depending on what you order). Mineral water is cheap though. So is public transport.

The garden at Naranjestan, Shiraz

Rials or Tomans?
This is something that requires getting used to. The official currency is Rial, but you'll be quoted prices in Tomans. The difference is that Rials have an extra '0' behind (for example, 4,000 Tomans means you'll have to pay 40,000 Rials). Turns out the currency was changed to Rials by Reza Shah over 70 years ago, but Iranians continued being more comfortable and familiar with the Toman. The central bank has plans to revert to the use of Tomans. Until then, it'll be useful to know the difference. It'll save you the embarrassment of thinking your dinner was dirt cheap.

Masjed-e Shah, Esfahan

Staying connected

Most cafes have wifi, so do the hotels. I usually had a pretty good signal. Do note though that Facebook is blocked, and access to Twitter is a bit patchy. If you absolutely must access Facebook, you'll have to do it via a proxy server (ask the locals).
You'll also need to get a local SIM card if you want to make calls/send SMSes (your home networks won't be available in Iran). For this, go to the Imam Khomeini metro station in Tehran and look for the mobile shop/centre. Take a queue number and wait. Don't forget your passport and the address of your hotel. Let the staff know if you need data, and make sure you check that it works before scooting off.

Read!

- The Ayatollah Begs To Differ: The Paradox of Modern Iran by Hooman Majd (highly recommended)

The abandoned village of Kharanaq

- All The Shah's Men by Stephen Kinzer (how the CIA overthrrew a democratically-elected Iranian leader)
- Days of God by James Buchan (details the lead up to the 1979 Revolution)
- Shah of Shahs by Ryszard Kapuscinski (a profile of the last Shah of Iran)
- Poetry by Hafez (They say all Iranian homes have two books at home: one book of poetry by Hafez and the Quran)
- Poetry by Rumi, Sa'di, Khayyam

To the Blue Mountains -- with public transport!

Planning a trip to the Blue Mountains from Sydney, but don't have a set of wheels (or can't drive)? Personally, I was in two minds about making a visit because of the perceived inconvenience. But despite what most people tell you, accessing this site is very easy by public transport (they're just being lazy). But first, a little background.

The Blue Mountains is a mountainous range in New South Wales, Australia. It's close to Sydney, and borders its metropolitan area. According to Wikipedia (and based on what I saw), the Mountains are a dissected plateau carved in sandstock bedrock. They are now a series of ridge lines separated by gorges up to 760 metres deep. One of the region's best-known attractions is The Three Sisters rock formation (left). There's an Aboriginal story behind it which I cannot remember right now. The Blue Mountains is not a particularly high mountain range, but that hasn't stopped countless from making trips here for its majestic scenery. It helps that the region was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in the year 2000.


What to see/do

The most popular attraction is Echo Point in the town of Katoomba, a major lookout with amazing views of the Three Sisters and Jamison Valley. It's a good point to start your visit, and there are information panels/displays about the surrounding environment. From here you can set off on one of many, many treks to while away the hours (and days) and check out what nature has to offer you in these parts -- including some gorgeous waterfalls. If you feel you're not fit enough, try the short walks of about a kilometre or so. The more adventurous can of course set off on multi-day treks. Mountain biking opportunities also abound.

In the mountains you'll also find a number of towns including:

Katoomba (right) -- the largest of the lot and main jump-off point for the Mountains. You can shop and fill your tummies in this area known for its hippie and artsy people.
Leura -- this one's right next to Katoomba and more quaint


So how do I get there?

Hop onto the Blue Mountains Line at Sydney's Central Station and get off at Katoomba. The trip should take you around 2 hours. When you exit the station, there's an office for a hop on/hop off service to the mountains. It makes 29 stops across Katoomba and Leura, giving you the flexibility to explore the area comfortably.

the road from Katoomba down to Echo Point;
yes, it's right at the end

Or you could do what I did -- walk from Katoomba station down to Echo Point (the lookout). It's a relatively easy 2-kilometre walk if the weather is pleasant (I walked back to Katoomba after my trek too). If you do intend to walk the whole way, get a map from the hop on/hop off office. It would help a great deal, especially if you don't trust your sense of direction. Or just ask around.

How much time to spend here?

It really depends on you. The Blue Mountains can be done as an easy day trip from Sydney, but keep in mind that the journey to and fro takes about 2 hours each. At the Mountains itself, I trekked for about 3-4 hours before deciding I'd had enough. I was told Sydneysiders do weekend trips here to mountain bike, trek or simply camp out (accommodation options are available in the area of course). So if you want to avoid the crowds, try planning your trip during the week.

Climate

Do note that the temperatures up here can be up to 10 degrees lower than on the coast during the day, and much lower at night, so bringing a jacket along isn't being overly cautious. Oh yes, it does snow sometimes in winter. During my trip there was a bit of a drizzle but it did little to dampen the experience.

You're from Singapore? But...

'Where are you from?'

'Guess?'

'Hmm. I don't know.'

'If you can't get it right, I get this coffee, free!'

He laughed nervously and refused to hazard three guesses I so generously gave him. When I eventually told him where I was from, his eyes remained fixed on me in disbelief. It can't be, he said, you don't look Chinese. Your eyes, your skin..

Initially I used to be amused, but it's since given way to an indifference masked by an attempt to explain the makeup of Singapore. Still, it would draw confused looks. My recent favourite exchange was as follows:

'Where are you from?'

'Singapore.'

'Oh!' (interest piqued) 'How are things there now?'

'Erm..the way they've been. Nothing extraordinary.'

'But what about the protests?' (he was referring to Hong Kong)

Such follow-up comments and questions unfortunately point to one thing: ignorance. But I can't expect people to know where I'm from, particularly since my country of origin is a blip on the world map. At times they think I'm from all sorts of other places -- some of which I've never been to (the UK, some parts of the Middle East). The closest they've ever gotten to nailing my background is when I'm asked if I'm from India. Well, my grandparents were, so I tell them they're right -- to some extent.

But not everyone from Singapore takes too kindly to such labels, only because they want to distance themselves from the lands of their ancestors. This is especially the case among the Chinese and to some degree, Indian Singaporeans. So many times I've heard Chinese friends express their annoyance at being associated with mainland China. You could say the Singapore government has done a good job in forging national identity (a topic for another day).

On one hand, I can't blame them. Chinese tourists are gaining notoriety (if they haven't already) for being rude and loud. I personally experienced this on at least two occasions in Croatia and Greece. But having said that, I've also seen well-behaved Chinese tourists. The problem is that the majority etch themselves in people's memory much more easily than the quieter ones.

On the other hand, people will always make assumptions. Stereotyping happens all the time, all over the world. People will base their ideas of you on what they know. Chinese people come from China, etc. An Australian Chinese friend of mine received puzzled looks in Singapore when he said he couldn't speak any Mandarin -- the assumption being that if you grew up in Singapore, you'd have learned your mother tongue in school at the very least (that is, if you come from an English speaking family).

So the bottomline is this: you can huff and puff the whole world down for not knowing where you're from, but it's not going to change anything. Instead, try educating the people you meet. Laugh with them when they realise their mistake. They don't really mean it as an insult.

The only person who thinks of it that way, is you.

Lunch

It felt like a scene right out of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds (1963). They were flying about innocuously at first, quite willing to pose for photographs. Gradually I noticed a pattern: they were flocking to anyone they suspected had food.

Being lunchtime, it was perfect for pickings. Like many others, I had bought a pack of fish and chips from a stall at the Circular Quay ferry terminal. But unlike others, I had no strength in numbers. Granted, even they weren't spared. But as I tried to sneak each piece of chip out of the bag, one seagull landed quietly close to the bench. 'Don't pay too much attention to me,' it seemed to suggest, 'I'm just hanging out at the harbour, much like yourself.' So were hundreds of seagulls. My feathered companion squawked a few times. Could it be trying to gather its friends? 'Look! There's a lone ranger here, we might be able to take him on!'

This wasn't quite my idea of bird-watching, so I calmly packed up my things and went to the Royal Botanic Gardens. Past a group of boys kicking a ball around, all seemed fairly pleasant. I found a nice spot with a view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. A man and a woman were planking on the grass not too far away from me. The moment I put down my bag of fish and chips, a crow swooped in about 3 metres away. It watched, no, stared at me. I tried to shoo it away but it was I who blinked. Once again, food in hand and bag on shoulder, I ventured further into the park.

I eventually found a place to have lunch. The fish was good. There were too many chips though, which I could not finish.

If the seagulls had asked nicely, I might have been willing to share.

Bus to Beiteddine (Part Two)

The beauty of the Beiteddine Palace was accentuated by the absence of a horde of tourists. I probably ran into four people while exploring the grounds. There was also the occasional minder making sure we did not enter blocked off areas. My friends were right -- this place is pretty.

Mosaic from the 5th-6th century in the former stable

I was ready to leave after wandering around for about two hours. With every step towards the mid-afternoon, I began the task of plotting my way out of this town. There were a few cars and minivans parked outside the Palace. I could ask for a ride, I thought.

The inner courtyard

Then again, who knew where they were going, and what sort of characters would occupy those vehicles? Let's not forget their impression of this lone traveller who refuses to speak Arabic. Could he be pretending? After all, he looks like one of us. At least that's what my tour guide had said to me a couple of days earlier. I had also been mistaken for an Israeli, although why an Israeli might be wandering around so openly in the streets of Beirut escaped me (Oh, and did I mention being stopped by the police because they wanted to see my passport?).

Outside the stable

I walked back to the same road my taxi driver had left me. There was no sign of traffic. The town itself looked like it was snoozing on a holiday. I took the road we came from and chanced upon a woman (probably in her 50s) waiting by the side of the road. So there is a bus that comes here!

'Allo. Bus, Beirut?'
Arabic.
'Bus,' hand gestures pointing in the direction of traffic, trying as best as I could to explain the roundabout I initially got off at, 'Beirut?'
More Arabic.
'Ok.' I took whatever she said as a positive sign.
'You don't speak Arabic?' she seemed to ask.
'No Arabi', I said apologetically.
'French?'
'La', this time I felt like an idiot, although on the plus side, I had remembered the Arabic word for 'no'.

We watched cars go by every other minute. Their occupants looked at us as they passed. I imagined them thinking 'what an odd pair that is'. Five minutes passed. Another ten. She says something in Arabic and I simply nod. After several checks with her watch, she tells me I'm better off walking to the spot where I got the cab. I thanked her and walked.

The fourth side of the courtyard, looking out to
the hills and valley

A few more cars whizzed by. It was past two in the afternoon and all I had eaten was a hearty breakfast. If there was anything useful the guide book said about this place, it was that you should pack your own lunch because there aren't many food options near the palace. I pulled out the bagel I picked up at a cafe near the hotel and continued on my way. There was time too for a couple of selfies (which didn't turn out as well as I'd have liked) and a video narrating what had transpired so far. Charbel later told me he laughed at the video because I had mis-pronounced Beiteddine (bayt-AH-din instead of bayt-UH-din, which means something else altogether).

Twice in Singapore I had been offered lifts (without my asking) while walking down the hill from work and on the side of an expressway near my army camp. The drivers on this stretch proved to be less friendly -- I tried hitchhiking three or four times. On the bright side, the valleys and hills -- bathed in generous sunlight -- were offering themselves for a visual treat.

On my way to the roundabout

The roundabout was a mere 20-30 minute walk from the palace. As I approached, I took hurried steps, ready to sprint, in case I spotted a bus in the distance. All I got were a few cars stopping to buy fruits or some sort of snack from a lone vendor. At this point too I entertained the thought of hitchhiking. It would make for a good story, something my friends back in Singapore would say was a brave thing to do. But fate had other plans because the bus arrived some minutes after. Out of habit, I checked with the driver if it would go to Beirut. He nodded, and I took a seat in the back.

what I think is the bus stop next to the roundabout

Before I actually got to Beiteddine, I had thought of visiting a village close to the town which is said to have classic Arab architecture (as pointed out by the guide book). I have to admit the thought of possibly missing the bus back to Beirut (they stop running by the late afternoon it seems), and my little misadventure itself, got the better of me. All I wanted, as I surrendered to sleep in the lap of the droning bus, was a nice cold shower. 

Bus to Beiteddine (Part One)

"Ya Allah!" he shouted as his eyeballs returned from the rear-view mirror to their sockets. My gut feeling was right. I may very well have missed my stop. Speaking slowly, I tried to ask the woman in front of me if the bus does indeed go to Beiteddine Palace, as I was told. "Yes," she seemed to say in Arabic. A couple more unintelligible words sprang forth from her mouth, but it was her hand gestures that spoke best. I was relieved. But beyond that, I soon got a feeling that the driver, and the woman in front of me, had already made up their minds about me: the driver through a few more glances in the rear-view mirror, and the woman in front, who was already processing the bits of information she had gleaned when she turned towards me to explain the bus route.

'Why isn't the dimwit speaking Arabic?'

More on that later. But first:

The Beiteddine Palace is a 19th century construction which sits on the edge of a hill. The outer courtyard is flanked by three walls, and the fourth side opens up to glorious views of the valleys and hills. You cross the vast courtyard to the opposite side of the main gate and find, on your left, the royal stables, now home to Byzantine mosaics from the 5th and 6th century AD. Some of them are quite remarkable, considering the effort that has been put into preserving them. The inner courtyard, with its fountain, is on the first floor and gives you access to handsomely furnished rooms previously used by the President.

With details like these in my guide book, I had decided to give Beiteddine Palace a visit. Organised tours bring tourists here, but I had decided to venture out on my own with the Lebanese transport system. My confidence was boosted by the lines I scanned in the book:

..bus to Beiteddine..
..Beirut to Beiteddine..
..Cola transport hub..

I decided it was not going to be difficult. Yet I failed to recognise the signs. Cola itself wasn't what I had imagined a transport hub to look like. It was a collection of minibuses and taxis basking in the spring sun at what would, at best, be described as a large carpark. The signs on the window were all in Arabic, so I enlisted the help of a young girl (an undergraduate studying hospitality management) who eventually hooked me up with the bus I'd need. I was reminded of a similar situation in Kiev when I visited in 2012. There too I was trying to get to a site which is a little outside of the city centre. There too a woman helped me, albeit with rudimentary English.

As we headed south of Beirut and negotiated its temperamental traffic, I was seduced into a short nap, waking up just around the time the bus started its gentle climb up Mount Lebanon. The guide book said the journey would take about two hours, and by this time we had covered 45 minutes. This is also why I sat in the back of the bus observing the towns that passed every now and then, including a little shop selling goods from the Philippines.

By the time the driver exclaimed in horror, we had crossed the 75th-80th minute. As it turned out, this was a loop service, and soon I was reintroduced to the towns we passed, and the roundabout at a three-way junction where I was supposed to have alighted. As the bus pulled away lazily towards Beirut, I stood in the mild heat, looking at the road I had to take. How far is the palace from here, I asked myself.

'Habibi!' I turned around. 'Taxi?'

Serendipity.

The broad smile on his face showed he had already identified the scent of confusion I was emitting. I would have hopped into his taxi even if he were to take me across the border to Syria (OK maybe not). He drove an older model of a Mercedes Benz, one you would rarely see now on the roads in Singapore. The road descended down the side of another hill, passing another palace along the way which offers its rooms to the well-heeled. In about ten minutes, I got out of his cab and paid the fare. It was a short walk down a smaller road to the entrance to the palace. This had better be good, I thought to myself. But as I pulled out the cost of the admission ticket, another question planted itself in my head:

how was I supposed to get out of here?

Why not Lebanon?

Finally, I've checked Lebanon off my list! The desire to go took several flips and backflips in no small part due to the cost of flying and the security situation in the country. I have to admit I was apprehensive as the date to fly drew near, no thanks to the conflict in neighbouring Syria. But my fears were unfounded, and, as some have pointed out, I'm back in Singapore in one piece. In any case, I believe that if something has to happen, it could happen anywhere.

So here, ladies and gentlemen, is what I did during my eight glorious days in this gorgeous country.

On my feet

Urbanista, a cool cafe in Gemmayzeh

Beirut is actually pretty walkable, especially if you quickly learn how to cross the roads. I explored on foot the districts of Gemmayzeh and Mar Mikhael. There are plenty of bars, cafes and eateries in these areas. Some art galleries (e.g. Plan Bey) also dot the long strip of road that stretches from Gouraud to Armenia Streets.

Downtown Beirut: you'll find here Al-Amin, the blue-domed mosque near the Place des Martyrs which has four 65-metre-tall minarets. The mosque also has a beautifully decorated ceiling (below, left). By the way, slain former prime minister Rafic Hariri is buried here. Right next door is the St George Maronite Cathedral. No photos are allowed in here.


A stone's throw away is Place de l'Etoile where you'll find more restaurants, cafes, souvenir shops, and an iconic 1930s clock tower with its four-faced Rolex clock. It was a gift from a Lebanese-Brazilian emigre. The area is also home to the parliament building, two cathedrals and a museum.

A little further north from here is Beirut Souks -- a mega shopping area home to some 200 shops, some of which require substantially deep pockets. There's also a very good bookstore if you're interested (Librairie Antoine).

I tried reaching the nearby Grand Serail, which is a majestic Ottoman building now housing government offices, but was turned away by several police cordons. They've stepped up security in the area, possibly following the assassination of a former minister in December 2013. What you can do, however, is to walk further northwest of Beirut Souks to Zaitunay Bay. Take a stroll along this waterfront promenade, which is home to several yachts, and some high-end cafes and restaurants. Until around 10 years ago, this part of Beirut was quite dead. It's still relatively quiet, which is quite something for a city whose soundtrack is dominated by honking cars.

Continuing west past Zaitunay Bay will eventually take you to the Corniche, a favourite spot for Beirutis. Grab a cup of coffee and people watch, or if you prefer, look out to sea, the shoreline of coastal Lebanon (it's nicer at night when the homes on the hills are lit up), or count the number of planes that glide overhead as they get ready to land at the Rafic Hariri International Airport in the south of Beirut.

In West Beirut, you'll find Raouche, Hamra and Ras Beirut. Raouche is where you'll find Pigeon Rocks, Beirut's famous natural offshore arches. Hamra and Ras Beirut are the university districts of the city and are filled with hotels, bars, cafes, restaurants, and shops. It's the preferred base for most travellers and is also home of the American University of Beirut (right). I managed to get a walking tour of the campus thanks to a Singaporean I met during my trip. There's a museum here which houses archaeological artefacts.

Also, look out for street art all over the city. Some of it is very good.

Organised Tours
I signed up for three day-trips with Nakhal Tours:

A walk through the Cedars

Sidon-Tyre-Maghdouche (in the south)
Cedars-Bcharre-Khozaya (in the north)
Baalbek-Aanjar-Ksara Winery (north/east)

Aanjar, Baalbek, the Qadisha Valley and Tyre are all listed as UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Aanjar has the best preserved Islamic archaeological site in Lebanon, while the temples in Baalbek, have been said to be better maintained than the 'stones' in Rome and Athens.

As for Nakhal, their tour rates cover transportation (pick up and drop off at your hotel), an English speaking guide (they were very good) entrance fees, lunch and taxes.

Tyre's hippodrome, the second
largest in the world

Here's a further endorsement: I accidentally left my wallet in one of the tour buses one evening and after frantic calls to the tour agency, had it delivered to me the same day (the fact that I made a complete fool of myself is something else altogether).

Independent tours

The following are day trips I made on my own from Beirut. These too were day trips (except Byblos and Harissa, which were done together).

Byblos: the medieval port city of Byblos has a charming souk, ruins, and a line of restaurants along the harbour (left). The ruins go back to as far as the 3rd millennium BC and some of what you'll see is from the 12th century, particularly the restored Crusader Castle. There are great views from the city ramparts, especially during sundown. You don't necessarily need a guide here because information boards are present throughout the site for you to make sense of the complex. There's also the nearby Church of St John the Baptist, which marries Arab and Italian designs, sprinkled with remains of Byzantine mosaics.

Harissa: Not only is it home to the Basilica of Our Lady of Lebanon, the mountain town of Harissa also provides spectacular views of Jounieh Bay down below. You can drive up or reach the top by cable car.

How did I get there?: I was lucky to be driven to these sites by a friend I got to know via Couchsurfing.

The remains of the Great Palace at Aanjar

Jeita Grotto: This is one of Lebanon's greatest natural wonders and a huge tourist attraction. Personally, it didn't do very much for me because I'd been to a similar cave in Halong Bay. But I suppose the size of the upper grotto is something else altogether. There's also a lower grotto where you can explore the cave in a short boat ride. Note though that photography is not allowed. I'm guessing it's because flash lights will damage the stalactite and stalagmite crystals. So do the right thing and leave your cameras/phones/devices in lockers at the entrance of each cave.

How did I get there?: The onward journey was made by taxi from Beirut via a contact I had gotten to know. Getting out of Jeita wasn't very difficult either. Taxis usually wait at the main entrance and can take you to the main highway (10USD) where you can hop onto a bus (1,500LL) that takes you to the Doura bus station in Beirut. From Doura, you can hail a servis/taxi for your onward journey. Alternatively, you could get a cab from Jeita to Harissa or some other destination at an agreed price.

Beiteddine: This village is home to the 19th-century Beiteddine (bait-uh-deen) Palace, which sits majestically at the edge of a hill surrounded by terraced gardens and orchards. After you pass the main gate, you will see a three-walled courtyard (above); the fourth side provides great views of the hills and valleys. In the forner stables on the ground floor as you walk into the palace, you'll find a lovely collection of Byzantine mosaics dating from the 5th and 6th centuries AD. A double staircase from the outer courtyard will lead you to the Palace proper. Pack a lunch basket or sandwich when you visit,

Baalbek's famous six columns; the two
people on the lower plinth give you a sense
of the scale of the pillars

How did I get there?: So I thought I should be able to travel to the palace on my own from the Cola transport hub, based on what the guide book said. I was on a bus that would drop me where I needed to go; I didn't know that I'd have to take a taxi from a drop-off point to access the site a couple of kilometres away. Thankfully the driver signalled the stop to me, after I had gone on an extra 45 minute ride with him through some random villages. The return trip to the drop-off point was a 20 minute walk along the road because I could not get any taxi/bus from Beiteddine. If you're thinking of visiting the palace, my suggestion is to get the bus driver to inform you where you have to get off, if indeed you're planning to take the bus. But if you don't fancy getting 'lost' the way I did, arrange for a taxi from Beirut. It will cost you more but at least you'd be assured of the return trip. Note too that there are no buses back to Beirut once the sun goes down.

Before you go...

Zaitunay Bay in downtown Beirut

Safety: Contrary to the bad press from the media, Lebanon is pretty safe. The only time I had trouble was when I took a photograph of a building I wasn't apparently allowed to (a police officer came over and demanded I delete the photographs). Having said that, do keep track of the developments in the country. The Daily Star is a good resource, and you can download the app on your smartphone for updates. Also, avoid South Beirut (a Hezbollah stronghold which has nothing much for tourists anyway) -- although I was told it is generally safe as well.

Currency: Bring in US dollars. Virtually everyone accepts them but you'll receive Lebanese Pounds (LL) as change. Most places would stick to a standard rate so don't worry about making any losses (at the time of my visit, 1USD got you LL1,500).

Getting Around: There are three forms of public transport in Lebanon: buses, 'service' taxis and private taxis. Buses within Beirut should cost around LL1,000. Service taxis mean the driver can stop and pick up other passengers along the way. Here you'll pay LL2,000 (however if you're planning to go from one end of Beirut to the other on servis, be prepared to pay more). Ask before you get in if it's a service or taxi. Private taxis require price negotiation before you hop in, and you'll be the only passenger(s). And oh, the cabs (both service and taxis) can be identified by their red number plates. I add this here because the vehicles come in a wide range of models (from a Toyota to an old school Mercedes Benz).

If you need to call for a cab, try Geryes. They're available 24-hours and offer pretty good rates. These guys do airport transfers, take you around Beirut, and can arrange for rides to other parts of the country as well. These are their contact details:

+9613222600 (mobile)
+9611206000
+9611206666
Email: GeryesTaxi@yahoo.com

Your passport: Carry it with you everywhere you go, especially if you're taking day trips out of Beirut. You pass checkpoints when you enter/leave each governate in the country and the police/military may want to check your papers. And yes, don't take pictures of the personnel or the checkpoints. It's not worth the unnecessary trouble.

Night life: It might come as a surprise but the Lebanese capital is known as one of the coolest cities in the Middle East. Walk the streets of downtown Beirut and you'll more likely than not find Beirutis fancily dressed, more so when they're out partying (did I mention the flashy cars that they make their entrance in?). You won't find a dearth of bars to get your fix -- from holes in the wall in Gemmayzeh/Mar Mikhael, to establishments in downtown Beirut. Of course, dancing is optional because, hey, the point is to pout your lips, see and be seen!

Getting there and away: Beirut is the only point of entry if you're flying in, and here's a short list of airlines that will get you there:

Middle East Airlines (national flag-carrier of Lebanon)
flydubai
Emirates
Qatar Airways
Lufthansa
Etihad Airways
Egypt Air
Air France
British Airways

Getting in by land is pretty much impossible because of the conflict in Syria. And don't even think about crossing the border from Israel. Speaking of which, if there's any indication that you've visited Israel, you'll be denied entry into Lebanon. Same goes for some other Middle East countries so do your homework before you embark on your journey.

Visa: Most foreigners can get visa on arrival at the airport. If you're Singaporean, just show up with your passport.

Read!
On the politics of Lebanon and the region, Beware of Small States by David Hirst seemed to me a good resource.
Lebanese/Arab authors:
Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet (the tour to the Cedars/Bcharre/Khozaya takes you to his museum)
Amin Maalouf (Samarkand is my favourite so far)
Elias Khoury (I tried Yalo but gave up)
Rabih Alameddine (An Unnecessary Woman)
Anthony Shadid's House of Stone: A Memoir of Home, Family, and a Lost Middle East

Watch
Incendies (2010)
Where Do We Go Now? (2011)

If you need more info, don't hesitate to ask. For more of my images from Lebanon, I'm on instagram: @kevusingh