The other day my cousins decided to take me for a motorcycle ride that was so beautifully breathtaking that I was left at a loss for words. We drove out for over an hour and a half before reaching our destination.
We stopped at a small landing near Sannine, Lebanon. I found myself surrounded by mountains. I was in awe at the beauty around me.
We picked what could be classified as the nicest day of the not so cold winter season. It was over twenty degrees celsius, the air was cool and crisp. The sun was shining bright, beating down on our faces just enough to keep us warm but not enough to overheat us.
There was a small house off to the side. I felt slightly jealous, all I could do was imagine myself living there and waking up to that view each morning.
Rolling white snowy mountains.
Landscape coming to life.
A view that could speak.
Something I miss
I have all the feels about his particular post.
Three years ago (2015) I spent most of my summer in Lebanon visiting family and friends. It still makes me smile when I mention my visit to anyone. I consider it to be the trip of a life time and I can’t wait to go back.
One of my fondest memories from my visit is the time when my cousins and I drove across the country to walk through the Cedars of Lebanon.
As I close my eyes, I can feel the cool, crisp air. The memory of climbing over large rocks and tree roots as I walk down the winding path, brings me joy. The patches of sun beating down on my shoulders and the warmth it brings my body is exhilarating. I can reach out and touch the leaves between my fingers; their texture is soft yet rough. I am at ease with the people I am with.
Family and friends.
The late nights sharing drinks and anecdotes.
The hot days of Beirut.
The family lunches and dinners.
Being called ‘my cousin from Canada’.
Hiking in the mountains.
Swimming in the ocean.
Driving down winding roads to new adventures.
Being teased about my Arabic pronunciation.
Teasing them about their English.
Playing bubble soccer.
Sitting on the beach.
The promises made and kept.
Bar hoping and day drinking.
Dancing in the car.
The shenanigans, pranks, and silly stunts.
The way my aunt and mom used to dance when they were happy.
My uncle’s dad jokes.
‘Kiss me again’ as a recurring curse.
… so, so much more.
But mostly, I miss the experience, and the cherished the memories.
Day 4: Memories
My earliest childhood memory dates back to my very first trip outside the country. I was four and we were visiting Lebanon. If you are unfamiliar, Lebanon is a small country located east of the Mediterranean sea. Did you know that Lebanon is the only country in the Middle East without a desert? Well now you know.
We were hiking through Saninne. The trail surrounded by beautiful foliage, and mountains left and right, the air was cool and calming. There was even snow at the very peeks. It was not very long before we reached our resting spot. I was surrounded by my mom, aunt, uncles, and cousins. Most of us kids really wanted to play games. We were enjoying the fresh air, the view and the family time. Despite being hungry food wasn’t our prioriy, hanging out together was. As the younger members of the family played ball, the older members prepped the barbecue and set the table.
Yes I said barbecue, ’cause you know we carry those around everywhere.
After the meal, I remember distinctly how my mom carried over a watermelon to some running water that seeped through a crack in the mountain. She was aware of how cold the water was and the logic behind letting it soak the melon was to cool it. Needless to say, this water was so cold, it split the juicy melon in half. If I hadn’t seen it happen, I swear the thing looked like it had been smashed open with a hammer.
Best day ever.