Between Prague, Beirut and the In-Between
First time in Lebanon outside of the Christmas season, and also the first time for a longer stay. I think this journey started something unexpected for both M. and me — not really having a stable home anymore. Instead, we’re balancing between Prague, Beirut, and everything that happens in between.
We said goodbye to our Berlin flat. Or at least, I almost completely did. I went to Berlin with my mum and packed up most of my remaining things. I left just a bike lock, some books, and a few seemingly unnecessary bits. Then I took a flight from Berlin to Beirut.
A Gentle Start
The day I arrived was unusually warm — the last warm afternoon for a while. The following weeks were mostly windy, with a pleasantly mild temperature. We didn’t have any big plans, just a few ideas: to visit Bekaa, explore new walks that M. had been doing with Cosma, and, most of all, to enjoy some family time.
I was genuinely excited to simply be, without exams or intense schedules. (I had just completed my fitness certification the day before traveling to Berlin.) And that’s exactly how the days unfolded — quietly, without rush or pressure.
Evenings at Metro Medina
We made our way back to our beloved Metro Medina to see a show — one I didn’t really understand, as most of it was in Arabic. But I loved watching the costumes, soaking up the atmosphere. The place has such a great vibe.
We went twice. The second time was for an ambient concert, invited by Ralph’s friend. We sat at the bar, not realizing we’d soon meet many of these same people again at the Rise and Root Community Festival a few weeks later.
Rise and Root Festivity
Even though this event happened almost in our last week, I’m mentioning it here at the beginning because I stumbled upon the festival thanks to a poster I had photographed — and I’m so glad I did.
It turned out to be a beautiful opportunity to connect with a part of the local spiritual community and to spend time outdoors with Cosma among kind and welcoming people. She did so well.
We loved just flowing through the days — observing, dancing, attending workshops, breathing. It was also so funny that my friend Mehmet from Turkey came. People there absolutely loved him. At least that’s what Marco said.
Hike in Ehmej
This was the first hike of the month. Unfortunately, it took place at the very spot where Cosma had been poisoned just a few weeks earlier, but it felt good to heal that horrible experience with a new adventure. The day was cloudy and cold, which gave the hike a truly mystical atmosphere. We climbed a stunning rock formation and were lucky to see an endemic flower – the Iris sofarana. This iris is found only on Mount Lebanon, making it truly unique. When I took a picture of the flower, I felt there was something truly special about that flower. And later on we learned that it is only on a few places – one of them is the Ehmej area.
Observing Cosma
I love how much joy Cosma brings to people — even more here than in Europe. In Europe, beautiful dogs are almost expected, and training them is standard. But here? People stop us to say she’s the most beautiful dog they’ve ever seen — and they genuinely mean it.
I’ve also noticed how well-behaved she is compared to many other dogs. She’s a real companion. I love observing her, spending time with her. Like how she just rests when she’s tired — no guilt, no rush. One day she’s full of energy, the next she simply rests.
Where did I forget that this is okay? Or maybe I never really learned it. I’ve always needed to have a plan, a schedule — to stay busy. The idea of a free evening used to give me actual panic. Even when I was six, I remember telling my grandpa over and over that we must not go back home before seven, otherwise I’d be bored to death.
I had this almost autistic need for structure — I had to go to bed exactly at 8:40 PM, so I’d have 20 minutes to fall asleep and get exactly ten hours of rest. That’s how deeply programmed I was.
But Cosma? She just is. She moves between full-on energy and full-on rest with no guilt, no drama. She’s a wonderful teacher in energy management — and in simply being. She’s such a joy to be around.
Baalbek: Ancient Grandeur and a Dozen Meat Pies
Baalbek is one of the most impressive archaeological sites in Lebanon — home to some of the best-preserved Roman temples in the world. We went without Cosma because M. thought it might be too intense for her. In the end, though, it wasn’t anything too crazy — we didn’t even spend much time in the town itself, just a quick visit.
The historical site was beautiful. What made it extra special was the fact that we were almost alone there. At the entrance, there was an elderly man who really wanted to be our guide. We felt a bit sorry for him, but at the same time, we didn’t want a guided tour. We just wanted to walk at our own pace.
Before arriving in Baalbek, we stopped for Sfi7a Baalbaké — a local specialty, kind of like mini meat pies. We originally wanted to get just two each, but then found out that it’s not possible to order fewer than twelve. Classic. We ended up enjoying them — especially the meat ones — and swore we’d have them again before the end of the trip… but never did.
Tyre and Sidon
Because things in Lebanon had seemed relatively calm in the past few months (though, ironically, on the very day we decided to head south, Israel bombed a town along the route), we decided to visit two southern cities — Sidon and Tyre.
In Sidon, we stayed mostly in the center. There, we had a rather strange encounter with a man who kissed me twice without asking. It felt… uncomfortable, to say the least.
Tyre (or Sur) was a cute town, but the most interesting part for me was actually just the drive from Beirut to the South — roads lined with yellow Hezbollah flags, posters of election candidates, the checkpoints. I tried to take videos or pictures of them but was not really sure if it is ok and at some point it looked a bit weird so i stopped. So no real pics from that place. At one checkpoint, I didn’t realize I was supposed to stop — so I just drove through. Probably not the best idea but nothing really happened. I panicked a bit, so I just sped up. But the guy felt chill so it was all good.
Jezzine
On our way back, we made a detour through Jezzine — a small town in the mountains known for its scenic views and a supposedly beautiful waterfall. The scenery was nice, but the waterfall was almost dry. Anyway, we had a romance moment observing it on the top of the mountain. And the town itself felt a bit lifeless, as if stuck between seasons or just forgotten.
We found a small falafel place. I had two falafel sandwiches. The guy selling them seemed like he had time, maybe even too much of it. I started thinking about boredom, and whether I’m the one constantly projecting it onto others. Maybe he wasn’t thinking about anything at all. Probably he was just happy that someone came in and bought his falafel.
Akkar District: An undiscovered area
This northern part of Lebanon was completely new territory for both of us. We didn’t really know what to expect — only that the landscape was supposed to be different from the rest of the country, that most people lived in rural areas, and that many Lebanese (especially those from the Beirut area, and predominantly Christian) rarely visit this region.
It truly felt like stepping into another country.
We were amazed by the lakes we passed, a breathtaking waterfall, a peaceful spot to cool off in the middle of a river — and by the overall calmness the place offered. At times, it felt like being in Tuscany. And when we finally arrived in the town where we would be staying, we felt more welcomed than we had in a long time.
Beino: A Stone House and Stillness
The house we stayed in was magical — built entirely of stone, with a ping-pong table inside and a huge queen-size bed covered in soft purple sheets. In front of the house stood a beautiful swing chair, where I spent countless hours — in the mornings, during sunsets, reading, relaxing, and simply observing.
Just below the house was an unexpectedly great French patisserie. It felt so random and out of place — in the best way. We had amazing grilled meals, were invited to people’s homes and gatherings… It was a warm, open-hearted time that I think both of us will carry in our memories for years to come.
Hiking, Heat, and the Unexpected
The days were intensely hot, and even short hikes felt demanding. On one of them, we discovered a fascinating little village called Qammoua — almost like an oasis in the middle of nature. It felt surreal, distant, and dreamlike. I remember thinking I must look like a visitor from another planet.
On Sunday, after leaving the village, we decided to go on another hike — but the route passed through a town called Fneidek where local elections were happening. What followed was something we won’t forget.
Suddenly, we found ourselves surrounded by a massive crowd — men shouting, cheering for their candidate. A sea of people flowed around and over the car. I sat in the back with Cosma, feeling slightly terrified. What if someone started shooting? The soldiers nearby didn’t seem to care about us. We were on our own. At that moment, the only thing we could do was stay calm, melt into the chaos, and observe in stillness. Once we reached the starting point, we hiked a bit more. I even went on my own for a while. Along the way, we encountered another aggressive dog. The owners didn’t seem too concerned — they threw stones at him to chase him off. It made me feel sad.
There was something deeply striking about seeing how people live with so little — how far removed their lives are from the cities. The people we met felt distant. And yet, I couldn’t help but think that the harshness we witnessed was simply a reflection of the poverty and tough conditions they face every day.
Cedars Area & Bcharre
I think it was the third weekend when we decided to go back to the famous Cedars area – to a town we had already visited twice before: Bcharre. We stayed in a very cute flat that had warm (!!) water, and during an evening walk, we met a very cute dog named Rex who played a lot with Cosma. The sunset that evening felt a bit surreal – like the sun felt so high but was actually just before disappearing. And again as always, I felt so content to be in the mountains.
Qornet El Sawda – The Highest Peak of Lebanon
We also decided to hike to the highest peak in Lebanon – Qornet El Sawda, which stands at 3,088 meters above sea level. Of course, I forgot to bring my biking/hiking glasses, even though I knew they would be helpful since my eyes are very sensitive to the wind.
And it was incredibly windy – almost like Iceland – but with the sun beating down so strongly. It was a strange combination: the cold wind and intense sun made it a double challenge for the body. After the hike, my skin was completely sunburnt and hurt for several days. My eyes were literally crying, and my lips were totally destroyed. On the way back, I ended up running – and Cassoumi followed. Felt pretty bonding how destroyed we both were.
The hike itself was beautiful – the landscape really did remind me of Iceland. But I was also dealing with a lot of pain in my foot, so my feelings were a bit mixed during that trip. Still, I love these kinds of extremes, and despite everything, I really loved that hike. Oh, and I almost forgot – it was also really cool to see a little oasis in the middle of nowhere. M. had told me he wanted to show it to me anyway. The place, called Oyoun Orgoush, was beautiful to look at from above. We had planned to visit it later, but once again, we didn’t manage.
Wadi Qannoubine
This is a valley I had just been reading about in a book – a collection of interviews with Lebanese people. One of the women in the book was walking the same path we took – to a monastery. The day was really hot, but the walk was beautiful. We were all just feeling very tired.
On the way back, though, we ran into the same guy we had seen the day before in the mountains – relaxing in the forest with his family and a tent. The path to the valley was truly beautiful, and the whole area felt, once again, like a different country. I’m always so surprised by how many layers Lebanon has, but this particular place reminded me a lot of home – the Czech Republic. The trees, the landscape, the smell.
Michel was very tired, so we didn’t walk much, but it was still a nice little stop. On the way back to Beirut, we were both really looking forward to our beloved Starbucks 😀 (That was our “discovery” of this trip – iced mocha and double iced shaken espresso from this chain – we had it like 3 times)
A soft weekend in Baskinta
We spent the weekend in our camper, in a beautiful Baskinta – a place where Michel’s friend had a very huuuge house that cannot be missed. The place already felt peaceful, but we added to the interier our own little rituals – the warm glow of a colored lamp, the scent of incense, a few spritzes of lavender forest spray, and music flowing gently from our speaker.
One day we walked to a waterfall – cool and refreshing, though I remember how the heat made every step feel heavy. The next day, we wandered around the reservoir, smiling at the thought of a Starbucks stop on the way back.
One of the sweetest things was just observing life in the village – people walking to get their saj in the morning, the quiet rhythm of the day, the way everyone knows where to find the best tawouk sandwich.
It was clear we’d end the weekend at V Club – we needed to move and it was as always nice Sunday’s ritual.
This Saj place was some kind of legend – at least this is what M. said. It was however the most expensive saj that we both have had. One for 5 dollars. Maybe like 5× more expensive than in other places. The guy doing it was very very old and we felt like ok it’s fine to give him the money but later on I thought that it is not that great that he is putting the prices so high and out of the norm. We waited around 1 hour for our plate which I liked because one could really feel the pace of making the thing and waiting for other people to finish their dishes before us.
A quiet reflection
This month passed so quickly, and I started to feel a little scattered again – like I’ve been constantly on the move since last summer basically, and I can’t quite remember what it feels like to have a stable base. Beirut felt like that for a bit but there was a cut again going to happen very soon.
There was a subtle anxiety around the thought of having so little time in Prague before leaving again. At the same time, I noticed how much I’ve been craving space. Space to just be – to walk without a destination, to cook for myself, to return to my comfy room and my own rhythm.
But I also realized how safe I feel when I’m around M. and Cosma. That quiet sense of belonging – the feeling of family. No matter where we are, with them it feels like home.
And still, I’ve come to understand just how much solitude I need. Time to be alone, to refill, so I can keep offering from a place of fullness.