I’ve been feeling homesick recently. Yes, both muggles & wizards experience this horrid mawkishness of missing one’s hometown.
Beirut is kind of my own unpleasant, sneaky, thought-provoking, yet so charming, little Hogwarts.
The more I delve in the industrialized streets of Dubai, the more I miss the outmoded brick housing back home. The pint-sized space amid buildings, and actually people walking from a place to another without the unnecessary need of a mobile air conditioner.
According to The Daily Star, Lebanon’s capital has been ranked among the world’s best cities, according to a New York-based travel magazine, coming out at number 12 in a readers-chosen survey conducted by Travel and Leisure, becoming the only Arab or Middle Eastern city to make the list this year.
Food, especially, is what I miss. Bring me back the sorcerous calorific knefeh, the $1 man’oucheh or the ever-so flavorful kebbeh, transfigured to stuffed meatballs or just pounded raw, like Hagrid would’ve loved it.
Whether it’s a fine cuisine in the business hub, or a casual pit stop alongside the city’s busy Mar Mikhael street, this Great Hall-like gem boasts scenic surroundings, allowing an incomparable dining experience.
For someone who’s been to various countries where laws and systems are actually implemented and respected, I now understand why Lebanese come back to this degraded clump.
If you look deep enough, you’ll find magic hidden in all the streets and around every corner. Every pastry, falafel, or shawarma shack is Beirut’s unique take on Ollivander’s.
Having a grey day abroad? Avada Kedavra the hell out of it.