Children play in the late afternoon on Beirut's famous Corniche Can one be addicted to a place? If so, I think I'm a Beirut addict. Despite Iraqi heritage, I've been to the city 22 times since 2004 and my last fix was in June this year. I grew up with music from Fairouz , followed by Ragheb Alama and Majida Al-Roumi (my mum still claims I was a huge fan when I was only a toddler). I still watch the annual Miss Lebanon competition on LBC, and I even went on a strict "Lebanese diet" once that excluded hummous and croutons but consisted of lentil soup, salads and grilled chicken (with some exercise, I lost nine kilos).
For so many people of Arab descent, Beirut is the capital for everything in the wider Arab world: the cuisine, the fashion scene, music and the arts and nightlife. Yet its reach and influence stretches worldwide. It manages to be all things to all people, far more than just the Paris of the Middle East.
Yet Lebanon also has an understandable obsession with France. The country was once a French mandate, together with neighbouring Syria. As a result, the Lebanese have inherited their language (French is as popular as Arabic, the country's official language), their cuisine and, of course, the French way of enjoying life, its joie de vivre. Beirut has been proclaiming itself the Paris of the orient for half a century at least, mostly for marketing purposes (Paris is the world's most-visited city).
And by promoting its Parisian side, it has succeeded in attracting global attention. But the rebellious person that I am doesn't see Beirut as the other Paris. No, for me, Beirut is more than that - it's global. The thing that takes me back to Beirut, besides work, is the joyful and positive feel in the air: it has been through wars, terrorist attacks and sectarian violence, but people still party till early in the morning in Gemmayze and Achrafieh, the cafes are still filled in the downtown district and in Hamra, and the ski slopes and beach resorts still receive their guests. Beirut doesn't bend over for any war or crisis, and after each one of them, it only gets bigger and glitzier.