Place: Beirut
Tunes: 69 Eyes until it got too depressing as you could see all of the things about death they are singing about all around you. No LA style though.
It was an early start to a day that took sixteen and a half hours. After some traffic in thirty something heat and in direct sunlight, we got pulled over by the traffic police in front of a school. An English teacher came around and many pictures and handshakes followed. I still have no idea what was the original reason for pulling is over, but we ended up in the school with the police being shown around like exotic visitors from far away, which is what we are.
We got some tea in the teacher's room and the air conditioning there really saved the day. The walk out through the yard was crazy with all the kids buzzing around you and of course everyone had to ask you "Hello mister, what is your name?" and asking you a million questions.
Now this is a change to the routine.
The teachers room. I love air conditioning.
A border crossing somewhere.
A petrol stop in Syria. Much more insane than it looks from this picture. Arrogance is the key to success here.
You can almost see out of this bus. And a man who takes no shit from Turkish parking lot attendants.
In these border crossings, the procedure does not vary that much, but the fact that it is so badly organised and the locals are always trying to wrestle their way past you makes it stressful. The officials seem to be oblivious to the chaos around them If you can even spot them as they do not wear uniforms. To further confuse the issue, there are these parasites offering their “services”. So, you basically have to guess if the guy talking to you is doing their job or trying to steal your money. Well, both of them are after your money, but only the guy with the stamp has to be paid.
The air is saturated by diesel fumes from 50 year old lorries and it's very noisy and hot. There’s people coming and going and you can’t even tell the people who work there from anyone else. It’s pretty much like a bazaar, not anything organized.
In the border crossing to Lebanon it got even better. We got essentially robbed to buy this insanely priced "insurance" which probably is not even necessary. If the police standing between you and the gate into the Lebanon is in on the deal then you have little choice. He will not let you pass the gate unless you pay this one guy who acts like he owns the place and is clearly after your money.
At the same time you have 8 teenage kids hassling you constantly about this and that and that you must pay this and you must change that. One after the other they say precisely the same things. And it of course is a grave insult and a shock if you tell each one of them to go and fuck off. I'm sure they will be crying themselves to sleep.
Then you go to this poxy little office where it’s ten degrees hotter than on the outside and the same 8 piss-ants come in there as it was not packed full like the school disco already. And then they start celebrating how they robbed another sucker. Right in front of you.
What do you do? You pay them and go and fight for your place in the next queue. As you wait the head teenage insurance salesman drives past in a Mercedes stolen from Germany and waves at you with a big smile. If I had a gun and could have gotten away with it, this man would have a bullet in his head.
On the way to Beirut, we were chased down by one of the border police guys. One stamp was missing from our passports. We had just driven past as the booth where this guy was supposed to be was empty. He had just decided to go on a break or something. At least he drove after us.
Peter and Ari drove back with the passports and the rest of us drove on ... to have a screw through Markus's rear tire. Puncture foam was useless, so a new rear tube goes in. The boys got back with the passports when we were changing it. Well, Markus was. After this we saw the most professional tube change ever done anywhere by Ari (no sarcasm here) and where back on the road in no time. I have a feeling that he has at least seen someone do this before. A couple of locals stopped by to ask if we need help, which was reassuring.
The people here are strange. If you deal with them in a friendly situation, like asking for directions or sitting in a pub, they will go out of their way to help you. Like two locals on scooters we asked for directions. They essentially escorted us through the traffic, one-way streets etc. Any motorcycle policeman would be jealous how well they did this. And a Finnish traffic policeman would have had a seizure.
On the other hand it's everything else. The attitude in general is aggressive, competitive, selfish, arrogant, reckless and "me first regardless of the consequences". This is not only evident on the road, but for example in queuing anywhere. People do not queue here. They simply march to the front and demand instant service. The other people there already before you are irrelevant.
This general attitude that people have ensures that there is chaos everywhere. Man, it's fucked up. Personally, I can't wait to get out of this place, but I admit that my view would probably change after spending some time with the locals.
The traffic got worse in Syria and worse still in the Lebanon. There has been several very near misses but luckily we are all still in one piece. In the countryside, you have the latest weapons of the Lebanese Army. The "stealth" Mercedes E-series. It's just like a normal E-series from the eighties with a million km on the clock, but they drive without lights so that you can see them only when it's too late for you.
Then there are some very big holes randomly in the middle of the road that would be very easy to fix, but have ovbiously been just left there whenever someone needed to do some digging. And mad people on scooters trying to ram you (on purpose) and then turning away at the last minute. Just for fun.
Is that not supposed to be on.
Tyre change polka.
We now have some ladies travelling with us also. Let's see how long they stick around.
This may or may not be an important sight to see in Beirut.
Tunes: 69 Eyes until it got too depressing as you could see all of the things about death they are singing about all around you. No LA style though.
It was an early start to a day that took sixteen and a half hours. After some traffic in thirty something heat and in direct sunlight, we got pulled over by the traffic police in front of a school. An English teacher came around and many pictures and handshakes followed. I still have no idea what was the original reason for pulling is over, but we ended up in the school with the police being shown around like exotic visitors from far away, which is what we are.
We got some tea in the teacher's room and the air conditioning there really saved the day. The walk out through the yard was crazy with all the kids buzzing around you and of course everyone had to ask you "Hello mister, what is your name?" and asking you a million questions.
Now this is a change to the routine.
The teachers room. I love air conditioning.
We skipped the road racing as there were some border crossings to negotiate and feeling the effects of dehydration. Border out from Turkey and into Syria, and the border out from Syria and into Lebanon.
A border crossing somewhere.
A petrol stop in Syria. Much more insane than it looks from this picture. Arrogance is the key to success here. 
You can almost see out of this bus. And a man who takes no shit from Turkish parking lot attendants.In these border crossings, the procedure does not vary that much, but the fact that it is so badly organised and the locals are always trying to wrestle their way past you makes it stressful. The officials seem to be oblivious to the chaos around them If you can even spot them as they do not wear uniforms. To further confuse the issue, there are these parasites offering their “services”. So, you basically have to guess if the guy talking to you is doing their job or trying to steal your money. Well, both of them are after your money, but only the guy with the stamp has to be paid.
The air is saturated by diesel fumes from 50 year old lorries and it's very noisy and hot. There’s people coming and going and you can’t even tell the people who work there from anyone else. It’s pretty much like a bazaar, not anything organized.
In the border crossing to Lebanon it got even better. We got essentially robbed to buy this insanely priced "insurance" which probably is not even necessary. If the police standing between you and the gate into the Lebanon is in on the deal then you have little choice. He will not let you pass the gate unless you pay this one guy who acts like he owns the place and is clearly after your money.
At the same time you have 8 teenage kids hassling you constantly about this and that and that you must pay this and you must change that. One after the other they say precisely the same things. And it of course is a grave insult and a shock if you tell each one of them to go and fuck off. I'm sure they will be crying themselves to sleep.
Then you go to this poxy little office where it’s ten degrees hotter than on the outside and the same 8 piss-ants come in there as it was not packed full like the school disco already. And then they start celebrating how they robbed another sucker. Right in front of you.
What do you do? You pay them and go and fight for your place in the next queue. As you wait the head teenage insurance salesman drives past in a Mercedes stolen from Germany and waves at you with a big smile. If I had a gun and could have gotten away with it, this man would have a bullet in his head.
On the way to Beirut, we were chased down by one of the border police guys. One stamp was missing from our passports. We had just driven past as the booth where this guy was supposed to be was empty. He had just decided to go on a break or something. At least he drove after us.
Peter and Ari drove back with the passports and the rest of us drove on ... to have a screw through Markus's rear tire. Puncture foam was useless, so a new rear tube goes in. The boys got back with the passports when we were changing it. Well, Markus was. After this we saw the most professional tube change ever done anywhere by Ari (no sarcasm here) and where back on the road in no time. I have a feeling that he has at least seen someone do this before. A couple of locals stopped by to ask if we need help, which was reassuring.
The people here are strange. If you deal with them in a friendly situation, like asking for directions or sitting in a pub, they will go out of their way to help you. Like two locals on scooters we asked for directions. They essentially escorted us through the traffic, one-way streets etc. Any motorcycle policeman would be jealous how well they did this. And a Finnish traffic policeman would have had a seizure.
On the other hand it's everything else. The attitude in general is aggressive, competitive, selfish, arrogant, reckless and "me first regardless of the consequences". This is not only evident on the road, but for example in queuing anywhere. People do not queue here. They simply march to the front and demand instant service. The other people there already before you are irrelevant.
The traffic got worse in Syria and worse still in the Lebanon. There has been several very near misses but luckily we are all still in one piece. In the countryside, you have the latest weapons of the Lebanese Army. The "stealth" Mercedes E-series. It's just like a normal E-series from the eighties with a million km on the clock, but they drive without lights so that you can see them only when it's too late for you.
Then there are some very big holes randomly in the middle of the road that would be very easy to fix, but have ovbiously been just left there whenever someone needed to do some digging. And mad people on scooters trying to ram you (on purpose) and then turning away at the last minute. Just for fun.
Is that not supposed to be on.
Tyre change polka.
On the big roads, there's racing. Not only by us, but by cars, vans and lorries. It does not matter if your vehicle weighs ten tons, plus cargo. You can race with it, no worries. And even if you see traffic slowing down rapidly in front of you on all three lanes, downhill, in a corner, in the dark, you accelerate. That's what real men do.
People do not use the indicators in the Lebanon, they use the Force. In a nutshell, the Lebanese drive like adventure riders.
Another example of the local attitude was room service in the hotel today. The cleaning lady came first at 9:30 in the morning and demanded that we check out immediately that she can clean the room and go home early. I told her to come back after 12:00. After 5 min she came back and before I coudl say anythign she took the bin from the room. I close the door and 5min later she is there again to bring the bin back with a new bin bag. After that she tried to come every 5 minutes to change the towels etc. All this while the customer is still in the room. All this just so that she can finish earlier.
At this point you might ask, what the hell are we still doing in the hotel at this time. Apparently tomorrow is a short day, so we are staying here a bit longer.
People do not use the indicators in the Lebanon, they use the Force. In a nutshell, the Lebanese drive like adventure riders.
Finally we go to the hotel, some fast food and much needed sleep. Peter and Ari had an even more pleasant evening as their wives have arrived and will be travelling with us to Egypt.
The wake-up in Beirut was pleasant. No loudspeakers shouting at 04:30 or whatever telling us to go and pray.
Another example of the local attitude was room service in the hotel today. The cleaning lady came first at 9:30 in the morning and demanded that we check out immediately that she can clean the room and go home early. I told her to come back after 12:00. After 5 min she came back and before I coudl say anythign she took the bin from the room. I close the door and 5min later she is there again to bring the bin back with a new bin bag. After that she tried to come every 5 minutes to change the towels etc. All this while the customer is still in the room. All this just so that she can finish earlier.
At this point you might ask, what the hell are we still doing in the hotel at this time. Apparently tomorrow is a short day, so we are staying here a bit longer.
We now have some ladies travelling with us also. Let's see how long they stick around.
This may or may not be an important sight to see in Beirut.
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