JOUNIEH, Lebnaon: Just 50 kilometers northeast of the Lebanese capital lies some of the country’s most diverse natural heritage. Today, some dedicated conservationists are working to keep it that way through sustainable eco-tourism and local development projects.

“You cannot conserve a place unless you showcase it,” says Pierre Doumet, president and founder of the Association for the Protection of Jabal Moussa, established in 2007 to protect the area and establish a program of sustainable development, involving the expertise of local residents, the financial help of institutions and private donors.

He adds: “We want eco-tourism to be responsible, and we want people to keep the area beautiful, bring jobs to the area and help local development.”

Locals have been trained to serve as guides and guards, while women from the rural areas are now selling their traditional food, mouneh, including kshik, tomato syrup, zaatar (thyme) and hosrom (juice from grape vines), as well as handicrafts. A kiosk has been installed near the entrance to the reserve as a first point of sale, after which they hope for the goods to reach the cities. In addition, local families are being trained to run guest houses for visitors who choose to stay the night.

With most of the members of the association originally from Jabal Moussa, they say it was not difficult to approach the locals, many of whom are related to them. In fact, some of them came forward asking how they could participate in a project that would allow them to preserve their cultural and environmental surroundings.

“Before, they were doing crafts for their families and neighbors, but they didn’t have a way to market their products,” says project manager Christelle Abou Chabke. “This will help keep people in their villages instead of going to Beirut and Tripoli. And they’re doing something that helps preserve their traditions.”

As part of the association’s research, a team of students from St. Joseph University studied the area and determined that one of the main setbacks for the local community was a lack of job opportunities, which has led to rural flight and, at other times, inadvertently caused residents to harm their own surroundings by sometimes earning money from grazing and cutting trees.

Today, they’re using their traditional knowledge and skills to preserve their surroundings.

Flanked by the Dahab and Ibrahim rivers and rising from 350 to 1,600 meters above sea level, Jabal Moussa forms a stunning natural oasis in comparison to the natural landscape approaching the reserve that has seen years of damage by quarry after quarry.

The steep mountains make a thrilling but hard hike for trekkers, and an even harder life for rural residents, whose traditional lifestyle is under threat of disappearing.

In 2007, a group of conservationists created the Association for the Protection of Jabal Moussa with the goal of protecting an area rich in natural diversity and cultural heritage. Two years later, the organization presented their research to the ministry of agriculture and then to UNESCO, which designated it as the third biosphere of Lebanon, after the cedars in the Chouf and the Rihane forest in the south.

Jabal Moussa now has three nurseries dedicated to reforestation and preserving biodiversity. The project’s annual budget is between $300,000 and $400,000, and is financed by grants from local embassies, the United Nations Development Program and private donations.

Although it sits on a relatively small area, 1250 hectares, Jabal Moussa is notable for its rich diversity of species of more than 700 species of plants, including six that are native to the area.

While it might be too early to determine the results achieved by the five-year-old conservation project, some returning, local dwellers might already be an indication of its success.

Layal Boustany, in charge of the nurseries at Jabal Moussa says, “Through our sensory camera, we’ve seen animals come out during the day, and that’s very rare in Lebanon.”

BEIRUT: A tour of Lebanon typically includes stops at the main tourist attractions, such as the Roman ruins of Baalbek, Byblos and Tyre, and the downtown shopping and restaurant district in Beirut. But far away from the country’s grand sites are a wealth of hidden treasures – from enchanted forests to lesser-known places in Tripoli and even Beirut.

“My personal favorite is Quornet Sawda (Black Corner), in the north above the cedars,” says Ronnie Chattah, who has been leading walking tours of Beirut for the past five years. “You literally feel like you’re on top of Lebanon, the view of both the Mediterranean and Bekaa Valley is fantastic. It’s the only place I can think of in Lebanon that you’ll still see a patch of snow even in July.”

Hana Hibri, also based in Beirut, whose book, “A Million Steps,” documents her 30-day hiking journey along the Lebanon Mountain Trail, says that some of the most beautiful spots she has come across have yet to be discovered by most tourists – or even Lebanese.

During her hike, she was taken aback by the Baatara Sink Hole in Tanourine, a green mountain area with three superimposed natural bridges and a majestic waterfall.

“You’re walking toward it, and all of a sudden it’s there,” she says.

“It’s really breathtaking, especially in the spring.”

Another place that has stayed with Hibri since her hike is the Niha Fortress, located near the southern town of Jezzine.

“There’s a 400-meter drop to the valley. This is where [the prince] Fakhreddine took refuge. There’s dramatic history and scenery,” Hibri says.

Anissa Helou, a Lebanese food writer based in London, says that when she returns to her home country she likes going to the unspoiled parts of the Chouf Mountains and driving to the Mir Amin Palace Hotel.

For the evening, to avoid the hustle and bustle of Beirut, and get a taste of the old city life, she likes to go to the old parts of Mina in Tripoli, visit the souk, and then, in warm weather, stop at Jammal restaurant, “watching the sea while eating super fish at the silver shore in Tripoli.”

Blogger and author Nasri Atallah, who writes on Lebanese youth culture for his blog “Our Man in Beirut” and has published a book by the same name, also found a favorite spot in Tripoli – but not of the typical “old world” charm tourist site.

There, in the northern capital, he discovered the International Fair in Tripoli designed by Brazilian architect Oscar Niemeyer. “It was his first project outside Brazil and no one knows about it – 15 modernist structures in the heart of Tripoli,” he says.

“When [the fairgrounds were] built in 1975, Tripoli was a very different place, but today it’s cool because it’s like a spaceship in the middle of a sprawling city. It’s pretty surreal,” Atallah adds.

His other favorite spot in Lebanon is his father’s village of Bteddine el-Loukche, just outside of Jezzine.

“It’s just three houses on a hill, and you’re submerged in pine trees. It would make Tuscany jealous ... The area is pretty pristine,” he says, adding jokingly, “No one has heard of it, and I don’t want them to visit.”

For Ghenwa Sannouh, incoming manager at Wild Discovery travel agency, the best spots in Lebanon are those combining culture and scenery – such as the old souks of Byblos and Sidon, 1 hour north and south of the capital respectively.

“There, you can have lunch and enjoy the restaurants and culture,” Sannouh says, adding: “These places are still romantic.”

In a country known for its fondness of luxury cars, resorts and expensive nightclubs, some of those who know it best appear to be favoring the areas accessible by foot, a possible sign of changing times.

“One of the reasons I really like walking is it give you a sense of pace,” Hibri says. “You can experience everything in an intimate way, and you can take the time to talk to people. It makes you notice the little things.”

BEIRUT: After years of delays the renovation of the Nicolas Sursock Museum in Ashrafieh, a project expected to double the exhibition space and cost $12-14 million, is set to be completed toward the end of 2012, according to the chief architect behind the project.

“The whole building was about 1,500 square meters and now we are adding more than 7,500 square meters but all underground,” explained Jacques Aboukhaled of JA Designs, chief architect behind the project in collaboration with French architect Jean-Michel Wilmotte.

The project was launched in 2000, but because of delays such as the 2006 war, groundbreaking only took place in 2008. The renovation will add four underground floors to the museum below the courtyard area in front of the building. In addition to parking for museum staff and the technical staging and storage facilities for the collection, new public areas being built include a 160-seat auditorium and a 600-square-meter room for the museum’s main temporary exhibitions.

The museum will continue to display its permanent collection on the ground level, while the first floor exhibition space, which used to be the main temporary exhibition hall, will now be an additional, dynamic space to show more of the permanent collection or offer second temporary exhibitions.

Maintaining the character and look of the building while updating the fixtures of the exhibition spaces is crucial to the renovation, according the Aboukhaled: “We are keeping the old building as it was and the front [of the building] as it was kept in the 60s when they did the first renovation.”

The building was constructed in the late 19th century by Nicolas Sursock as a private villa. Upon his death in 1961, it became a museum and underwent its first, and until now, only renovation.

“What was kept from the first renovation is kept 100 percent … but we are making use of all the square meters available because we need them for the museum. They didn’t have enough space for their collection,” Aboukhaled added.

For example, the façade of the building, including its grand staircase, and the main floor of the building, its “etage noble” with famous stained glass windows and the salon arab, will be preserved.

“We kept the heart of the first floor more or less as it used to be,” while updating the building with “all the new technology … because it is a museum that will be finished in 2012,” he said.

But when the digging first began almost three years ago, the public reacted with skepticism over the project.

“When we took out the round staircase at the entrance, everyone was screaming, ‘What are they building? What are they doing?’ They thought that we were building a car park for a building next door,” laughed Aboukhaled, adding that, in reality, they were reconstructing and reinforcing the staircase.

The most significant change, aside from the underground floors, will be the addition of a contemporary-style cafeteria and bookshop in the courtyard of the building. The addition has specifically been designed to look clean and simple so as not to compete with the ornate facade of the museum.

“We thought it was quite important to have the contrast because it’s a renovation that is finished today, 2012, and it has to mark our time or materials, but be extremely simple and very neutral so that we highlight the old part,” Aboukhaled said of the new cafeteria.

The project, Aboukhaled insists, is about creating the highest quality space for people to enjoy the Sursock and traveling collections.

“In general when you go into a museum it’s not to see the architecture, it’s to see what is in it and you can highlight it by very clean and very simple backgrounds – so that’s what we have.”

BEIRUT: The protagonist in the prologue of Mikhail Naimy’s Book of Mirdad recounts, “Facing the sea to the west and rising many thousands of feet above it, with a front broad, steep and craggy, Altar Peak appeared from the distance to be defying and forbidding.”

Neglectful of the warnings from local mountaineers, our hero’s resolve to climb is strengthened as he observes, “Yet, reasonably safe accesses were pointed out to me, both tortuous narrow paths and skirting many precipices – one from the south, another from the north.”

The vivid backdrop summoned by Naimy’s words is that of his home town Baskinta, a village that sits high on the slope of the regal Mt. Sannin, overlooking the eastern Mediterranean. The area was also home to other eminent literary figures, Abdallah Ghanem, Amin Maalouf, George Aroyan, Rachid Ayoub, and Suleiman Kettaneh. A rich cultural heritage accompanied by striking landscapes inspired Joseph Karam, President of ECODIT, to conceive the 24 km mini-thematic hiking path, The Baskinta Literary Trail to promote and preserve the region’s heritage.

“The idea was to develop a trail where people could discover these authors and poets by walking in the region, learning and feeling what these figures must have felt when they wrote about the village, when they mused about existence: whether it is a great philosophical essay like The Book of Mirdad or the poetry of Abdullah Ghanem,” he says.

Indeed, the common hiker with a penchant for reading is at once struck by the likeness between Naimy’s renditions of the fictional Milky Mountains to the impression left by the stunning views extant in Baskinta: Of hills bending, reclining, and forever rising in succession from the faraway shore; of tranquil hamlets encased in verdant frames; of valleys nestled in hills, “studded with men at labor” selecting the best of their yield.

“When people walk on the trail and go to the places where these authors lived and worked, things inevitably pop up from what they wrote, prompting the hikers to realize, ‘Aha! So, this is what was meant,’” continues Karam.

Part of the larger project, the Lebanon Mountain Trail which connects communities across north and south Lebanon, the Literary Trail was conceived, with the help of USAID, to conserve the environment in the area and to provide economic opportunities for the locals through tourism.

The trail passes the home of Naimy, where one can find the 600-year-old oak tree overlooking the valley, under which he sometimes meditated, the simple room that he shared with his brother, and the tiny crevice in the wall which served as his library. A chance encounter with his nephew, Yusuf – dropping in to tend the apple and cherry orchard – might divulge an anecdote about the author’s life.

“My uncle died in my arms,” Yusuf related that in 1988, Naimy beckoned his nephew to pay him a visit in Beirut. “I found him smoking and drinking coffee in his home, he said he felt very tired and very sick. Within two hours of my arrival, he was gone.” Naimy requested that Yusuf bury him in El-Shakhroub, where he wrote many of his notable works. The site of his grave is also a landmark contained in the trail.

From here, the snaky paths eventually lose their definition as one descends into the depths of Wadi el-Deleb. On the way, one catches sight of smiling strangers and invitations to share a pot of coffee; streams carrying freshwater all the way from Sannin; Forest markers erected by the Roman Emperor Hadrian of the 2nd century, banning all logging in the area; and the majestic mouth of the Sayf al-Dawla Cave, named after the enlightened Arab leader of the Hamadani state in 940 A.D.

A laborious ascent by way of the El-Hosseyn Hill brings one to the heart of the village of Baskinta, leaving behind an arresting view of land already traversed. Rugged landscapes give way to asphalted roads, many-storey houses: the standard indications of civilization.

A cultural center dedicated to renowned poet, philosopher and journalist Abdallah Ghanem is located here, storing the his most prized possessions for public viewing: his notebooks, his identification papers, his characteristic walking cane, and the desk where he rarely wrote.

“My father wrote most of his poems in the presence of nature, facing the mountains and the valleys” says his son, Ghaleb Ghanem, the present head of the Supreme Judicial Council. In fact, many of Ghanem’s poems were written atop Mt. Sannin, where the view of the steep valleys bestowed him with an unvarnished honesty, as the lines from one of his poems reveal: “Upon my heart she tapped and said, ‘Oh kindly open let me see.’”

Naturally, the question of why the small village of Baskinta, in particular, has produced such a startling number of remarkable figures arises: During the 18th century, with various missions from Russia and France venturing to the area to establish schools, the area gained a reputation to be an educational center. Children from neighboring villages and beyond made the commute to take advantage of the didactic opportunities.

“There are essentially two interrelated elements in Baskinta that contribute to its cultural heritage: the nature and a certain literary culture, with an accompanying humane culture which developed in the beginning of the 20th century,” explains Ghanem.

Anomalies in what would otherwise be a pristine landscape do, however, exist. This is evident in the series of unfinished buildings that may remain for years in skeletal form, depending on the income of the owner.

“A foremost threat to conservation efforts in the area, is construction,” says President of the Lebanon Mountain Trail Association, Karim al-Jisr. “The essence of a trail is to see nature and the value of a trail is how much nature you get to see. The minute construction becomes rampant then you diminish the value of the trail.”

According to Jisr, bad habits, combined with ignorance and low-cost projects are contributing to the environmental threats to the area: “People tend to widen existing roads, or build new roads by cutting it through landscapes. They don’t look for the path of least-resistance, or try to make these new additions blend with the environment by cutting as few trees as possible and managing the rubble that is produced along the way.”

In an attempt to maintain the trail and its surroundings, LMT is planning to segment the route, along with a business sponsor, and encourage individual municipalities to present the trail in their urban planning regulations.

QORNET AL-SAWDA, Lebanon: It is easy to forget while living amid Beirut’s dust, noise, pollution and seemingly endless bland stacks of concrete that there is a vast expanse of Lebanon that remains unspoilt, remote and happily free from the clumsy human touch.

The top of Mount Lebanon, stretching from south of Jabal Sannine to north of Qornet al-Sawda, is a rugged uninhabited region of undulating plateau and sharp limestone peaks where it is possible to wander for a day or more and see no one and hear nothing but the sigh of the wind.

Recently, I fulfilled a long-standing goal to hike this wilderness from Sannine (Lebanon’s third highest mountain at 2,680 meters) to Qornet al-Sawda (Lebanon’s highest mountain at 3,080 meters), a journey of three days and some 70 kilometers.

The trip began on a Thursday night when I and my three fellow hikers, Yousseph Salameh, his brother Shady and Charbel Gharios, were dropped off along the potholed lane between Nabaa Sannine and the Tarshish-Zahle road. Camping here for the night ensured an early start the next morning.

To the east, the lights of Zahle and the surrounding villages and roads transformed the Bekaa into a distant starry constellation. Above the black silhouette of the Anti-Lebanon mountains, Jupiter shone with spotlight intensity, dominating the fainter stars dusting the night sky. To the west, a soft blanket of cloud, a ghostly luminescence under the two-thirds-full moon, crept ever higher up the deep valleys.

We rose at dawn to a sky of the most intense blue streaked with pink as the sun inched over the mountains to the east and the Bekaa was partially hidden by mist. The summit of Sannine lay seven kilometers to the north and 800 meters above us, a steep climb made harder by backpacks weighing around 23 kilograms. We had to carry all our water as there were no springs en route. The track wound through spectacular Karstic limestone scenery – near perfectly conical sink holes and crazily tilted slabs of bedrock – that grew ever more rugged as the summit of Sannine drew closer.

After four hours of walking, we scrambled to the top of Sannine and dropped wearily into the leeside of a rocky outcrop to brew some tea out of the wind.

Sannine was a front line during the Civil War and the detritus of conflict is still found among its lofty peaks. The top of Sannine is pockmarked by old foxholes and tank revetments. Empty cartridges and rusty shards of shrapnel lie scattered on the ground. There are more dangerous mementoes of the war still lurking beneath the stony soil. Much of the Sannine area is blighted by minefields, most of them poorly marked. The Lebanese Army kindly gave me some years ago a large-scale map of the Sannine area marking all minefields, active and cleared, as well as other suspected hazardous areas.

It was late afternoon by the time we reached a shepherd’s encampment beside the road between Ayoun al-Siman and the Bekaa, and we were exhausted. The back-breaking, knee-cracking climb up and across Sannine had taken longer than anticipated and we had fallen behind schedule. While considering our choices, we were invited for tea by Khaled, a shepherd from Aarsal in the Bekaa who each year brings his family and goats to Ayoun es-Siman for the warm summer months. His wife filled tiny glasses with tea and then brought out some bread and a bowl of thick, freshly-made labneh that had a delicious tang of goat’s cheese. Khaled’s brother Mohammad, offered to drive us in his pickup truck to our intended camp site, a gesture we reluctantly accepted. If we had declined, it is unlikely that we would have made it to Qornet al-Sawda by Sunday.

The second day’s leg was some 28 kilometers, taking us from just south of the road cutting across the mountains between Afqa and the Bekaa to the road crossing the ridge between the Cedars and Ainatta. Unlike the frost-shattered and tortuous landscape of Sannine, most of the route followed the gently rolling sepia-tinted plateau of the Jurd Yammoune. It was a Saturday morning, and the hills were alive with the sound of gunfire as hunters charged up and down the farm tracks in SUVs, blazing away at anything that moved.

During the day, the route grew steeper as we headed toward the pass between the Cedars and the Bekaa. By late afternoon, thick cloud had descended over the hills and an icy wind howled up the natural wind tunnel formed by the Qadisha Valley and blasted us as we followed the ridge that brought us to the Cedars-Ainatta road. We staggered through the cloudy gloom looking for cover from the wind, but the only shelter available was an abandoned single room stone hut that once had served as a Syrian army billet and today, judging from the smell and evidence on the floor, was a public latrine for those caught short on the drive over the mountains. Unpleasant, but we had little choice if we wanted to stay out of the wind. The wind dropped as night fell and the skies cleared. Lying in my bivvy bag and gazing through the open door, I could see the lights of Baalbek shimmering 25 kilometers away and 1,400 meters below.

Shortly after drifting asleep, a car pulled up at the entrance, its headlights shining through the door. Several policemen marched in, one of them carrying a rifle. They asked us who we were and what we were doing. Apparently, someone had noticed our presence in the hut and called the police. Satisfied with our answers, a policeman suggested we take his phone number in case we had any problems over night.

“Are you sure you will be okay up here?” the policeman asked. “There might be people who could come up here and kill you.”

Kill us? Surely he was exaggerating, but his comment guaranteed a near sleepless night for me. From that moment on, every vehicle I could hear grinding up the steep road 200 meters away was potentially filled with gunmen on the hunt for foreigners. At one point, a car did pull up outside, but it turned out to be a courting couple who quickly sped away when they realized the hut was occupied.

Another glorious dawn and we set off on the last leg to the summit of Qornet al-Sawda. To the west, the Qadisha Valley cut through the landscape toward the sea like a giant axe stroke. The famed Cedars of God far below us looked pathetically small and frail, a tiny emerald set against the dun-colored hills.

The thin air and steep final ascent up Qornet al-Sawda usually makes for hard going. But three days marching in the mountains with almost no food, apart from the odd handful of trail mix, seemed to have hardened us, and the climb was not as taxing.

The view from the summit was spectacular. But we were soon collected from the summit by a friend in his SUV and began the long drive back to Beirut. Three days in the mountains, 70 kilometers walked, six kilograms loss in weight. Bliss. Now to plan the next trip.

JEZZINE, Lebanon: One of the country’s overlooked treasures, the district of Jezzine is rightfully regarded as south Lebanon’s vineyard and the protector of the south’s scrumptious culinary traditions.

Located in a fertile plain, the district lies in the midst of pine forests and vineyards and is guarded by lofty mountains and hills which in the 1980s and 1990s witnessed intense fighting between Lebanese resistance fighters on the one hand and Israeli occupiers and their agents on the other.

But with the years of Israeli occupation long gone, Jezzine and surrounding villages have, despite the lack of adequate infrastructure, succeeded in carving a niche of their own and soon became among the country’s most popular touristic venues.

At the intersection between the Chouf and the south, Jezzine is known for its strategic location, exactly 20 minutes from the southern coastal city of Sidon.

Abundant vineyards allow Jezzine wineries to produce some of the great wines that south Lebanon has to offer. The scent of close-by pine trees mix with those of the grapes, generating a very fresh, lively and floral wine.

Once in Jezzine ask around for the Karam Winery, where Habib Karam has mastered winemaking and fermentation techniques to give his product the tranquil body characteristic of good wines.

But Jezzine is not only about savory libations. Traditional Lebanese architecture is well-preserved in the town and public buildings such as the municipal palace, the Serail, and the public library bear witness. Private residences, such as the Farid Serhal Palace, boast a large collection of valuable antiques and are open to the public.

The recently revamped old souks are one of Jezzine’s main attractions. Located behind the splendid Serail, Souk al-Sad has become a favorite nightlife hub, with a wide selection of pubs and cafes.

Souk al-Sad is also where you will find traditional shops selling the unique Jezzine cutlery sets with handles carved from ebony or bone into a phoenix bird pattern.

Paul Rehayem the owner of one of those shops explains that only 10 families in Jezzine master the craft, but laments the fact that it will soon die out since Jezzine’s younger generation are not interested in acquiring the necessary skills to make to cutlery.

He adds that prices range between $10 for a piece to $1,800 for a whole set.

A few meters away from Souk al-Sad, visitors can enjoy a panoramic view of the town’s famous waterfalls.

Several restaurants overlook the impressive falls, which due to global warming run dry during the summer and fall seasons. Al-Shallal restaurant is one of the best eateries in the area offering traditional Lebanese mezze and other specialties.

Spending the night at one of Jezzine’s many hotels is definitely worthwhile, especially if the goal is to explore the south Lebanon district and surrounding areas in depth. The Iris Flower and Arz al-Sanawbar are the town’s cleanest and most comfortable hotels, with rates starting at $120 per night.

Planning a longer stay in Jezzine? Rent a chalet at the L’Etoile du Loup compound, which is situated near a pine forest overlooking the town. Prices start at $200 per night including breakfast.

A visit to Jezzine is never complete without a trip to the nearby village of Aramta where the charismatic Mona Sabra and her team struggle to preserve and recreate Lebanon’s traditional food products, referred to as “mouneh.”

In her tiny store dubbed “Khayrat Aramta,” Sabra and her women spend long hours grinding burghul and spices, drying thyme and sumac, distilling rose water and concocting tomato sauce, jams, apple cider and pomegranate molasses.

But the team leader of Khayrat Aramta, a project which receives support from the United Nations Development Program, the Research Group for Vocational Training and Oxfam, has introduced a creative twist on the old-fashioned food.

Sabra has revisited the traditional mouneh introducing new items such as ginger jam or banana jam every season.

South Lebanon’s culinary wealth is effectively safeguarded by the numerous top quality restaurants scattered in the district of Jezzine.

For an exceptional southern culinary experience stop at Les Caves Restaurant in Roum on the way back to Beirut through Jezzine. Although a little bit pricey, the restaurant, which used to be a horses’ stable back in the old days, is a hidden gem.

The varied menu includes a typical south Lebanon dish the “frakeh,” which is raw lamb meat reduced to a creamy paste mixed with burghul, orange zests, basil, marjoram, ground walnuts and chilly, with a pinch of salt.

Trying Les Caves’ fattoush, chicken liver in pomegranate sauce and succulent mixed grills is also a must. However those with a sweet tooth will not be entirely satisfied by the selection of fruits offered by Les Caves for desert.

End your trip to south Lebanon with some sweets from the renowned Al-Samra shops on the main highway linking Sidon to Beirut. The bondkieh, lawzieh and semsmiyeh, a variety of nuts or sesame in heavy syrup, at Al-Samra are likely to delight taste buds.

EHDEN, Lebanon: Ehden, the pearl of north Lebanon’s mountain towns, has not gained its touristic reputation for nothing. With its idyllic mountain climate, proximity to Beirut, and wide variety of tourist attractions to please the daredevil or food connoisseur alike, Ehden remains one of the hottest destinations in Lebanon.

Ehden has an altitude of 1450 m above sea level. It is conveniently located 110 km from Beirut, 30 km from Tripoli and only a 20-minute car ride from the Cedars. With 10 hotels available, hospitality is one of the town’s strongest points.

Grand Hotel Abshi and Ehden Country Club are two of the favored destinations. Grand Hotel Abshi, founded in 1932, has rooms usually occupied by tourists who stay for two to three days, and chalets for those who stay for one to two months. Many Lebanese come to have weddings at this hotel, usually in the spring or summer months. “It has 100 percent occupancy on the weekends. It’s completely full!” says hotel receptionist Rita Bedrosian, “but is less on the weekdays.” Ehden Country Club, another reputable competitor has 160 units. It differentiates itself from other hotels by having extra facilities, such as its three pools and multiple restaurants. It also offers team building retreats for university students and companies, and has partnerships with travel agencies allowing guests to book day trips through the hotel. Ehden Country Club also offers a kids club with ping pong tables, tennis courts, archery classes and kids pools.

With more than 40 restaurants in Ehden, no tourist can ever go hungry. One of the most well known restaurants Al Fardaws holds true to high expectations. If the large hoards of people indulging in the traditional Lebanese cuisine, and the scenic mountain view do not convince you of the restaurant’s prestige, then your taste buds will. The succulent meat, fresh vegetables, savory mezzes and delectable desserts will leave you feeling completely satisfied.

Another favorite eatery is the patisserie Fouad Jer Doueihy. “I think everyone eats here because they trust our brand, it is very well known,” says manager Sarkis Doueihy. Established in 1919, the patisserie is known for mouthwatering Lebanese sweets, including halawat el-jeben and other traditional sweets such as knefe, baklava and maamoul. It is located in the center of Ehden’s most popular center Al-Midan.

Al-Midan, the town square, is one of the main recreational places to enjoy in Ehden. After a full day of sightseeing, tourists and locals alike unwind in the square while enjoying desserts, smoking narguileh, eating or drinking coffee in the many restaurants and cafes. With more than 10 nightclubs near Al-Midan, young partygoers can hop from one place to the other with ease, staying out until the early hours of the morning. Besides food and drink, the town of Ehden also offers a rich history.

The town has more than 15 churches: St. Sarkis Convent, Church of Mar Mama, Sayidat Al-Husun and St. Georges Church – home of the statue of 19th century national hero, Yousef Beik Karam. One of the most captivating sites has to be the Monastery of St. Anthony that possesses the first printing press in the Middle East, which printed “The Book of Psalms” in 1610. Despite this rich history, Ehden’s main attraction is the striking natural beauty of the surrounding mountains – a characteristic that local proprietors understand must be preserved for their sake and for future generations of Lebanese and visitors to enjoy. “Without environment there is no tourism, and without tourism there is no one to appreciate the environment.

We have to work together,” says Jamil Moawad, the manager of the Ehden Country Club. The institutions of Ehden work with environmental committees to preserve the environment as best they can. With its towering mountains, proximity to the world-renowned Qadisha Valley and the ever-flowing Spring of Ehden, the town is a tree huggers paradise. Horsh Ehden, four kilometers east of Ehden is a protected zone for thousands of trees, 500 species of flowering plants and wild animals.

 The lush forests and adjacent mountain areas provide an ideal environment for many outdoor adventures – cave explorations, off-road trips in 4x4 jeeps, mountain biking, hiking in the Qanoubine Valley, mountain climbing and rappelling, parasailing, horseback riding and camping. “The Ehden touch is completely unique; this makes it different from other places in Lebanon. Everyone is very hospitable and receives guests with a smile,” says Moawad.

This claim is most certainly true as tourists notice the genuine hospitality of the locals from the moment they pile out of their minivans until they check out of their hotels. The locals treat guests more like relatives than customers, giving Ehden a one-up on the myriad of other attractions this region has to offer. “This is what makes tourists want to come back,” comments Moawad.

JDEIDET, Baalbek: Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley is something of a tantalizing unknown for tourists. Its mountain scenery, many wineries and delicious traditional food attract plenty of visitors, yet the area is relatively untouched by the country’s tourism industry and dogged by a reputation of danger.

Domaine al-Rachid, a quaint new bed and breakfast in the village of Jdeeidet 135 kilometers from Beirut, challenges the area’s stereotypes, while providing guests with all the local flavor they could want.

Upon arrival we are warmly greeted by Pascal Abdallah, a tourism consultant and university lecturer who runs Domaine al-Rachid along with two of his four brothers.

The house has been in the family since the 1960s, and belonged originally to Pascal’s grandfather, Jeddo Rachid, an officer with the French army who lived to the age of 107. The house was first opened up to guests in the 1990s before falling out of use after Jeddo’s death in 2000, and was restored by the family this year to accommodate guests.

“There is a need for hotels in the region,” says Pascal, who specializes in responsible tourism development, explaining the family’s reasons for re-opening. “And since we were already in this business, and my mother very much likes to receive and talk to people, we decided to refurbish the house.”

We soon meet the mother in question, Helene, who proves as informative as Pascal suggests. First, we are given a quick tour of the house by Pascal. There are two bedrooms – each with four beds – plus an upstairs lounge area, where it is more than warm enough to sleep during the summer months, and space on the grounds for tents.

Once the sleeping arrangements are sorted, we enjoy a more detailed tour of the house and its history from Helene, during which she explains the story behind perhaps the house’s most notable feature – the intricate, colorful designs that cover the doorjambs and walls of several of the rooms, painted by Jeddo Rachid over the course of 20 years, starting in 1976 when he was 83.

The house is founded on Jeddo’s legacy, evident not only in the paintings but in his pictures and belongings which are dotted around the house. This legacy is an integral part of Pascal and his siblings’ vision for the future of the guesthouse.

“We want people to experience the region and to discover the heritage of our family, through our grandfather’s history,” Pascal explains. The family has inherited Jeddo’s creative tendencies and hope that the house will become something of a cultural center to nurture local artistic and musical talents that wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunities to develop.

The house has been updated somewhat since Jeddo’s days, after two months of renovations. The garden, home to Dourga the dog and the family’s ram, is full of treasures left by Pascal’s brother, Peter, an architect and events manager. In one corner lies a dilapidated Warner Brothers sign, in another the front end of a car turned into a bench, adding to the house’s copious amounts of charm. The garden also contains a bar, where beers, wines and spirits are available.

Dinner and breakfast are included in the price of a night’s stay and are prepared by Nawal, a relative of the family. The food is delicious, traditional Lebanese home-cooking: safsouf (a version of tabbouleh with less parsley and more bulgur), loubieh, and makloube for dinner; kishk-on-eggs, labneh and ma’mouniyyeh for breakfast.

Leaving the guesthouse for the day, the obvious place to visit is the nearby Al-Assi river. If you are of an active nature, there are several companies offering white-water rafting, which the guesthouse can organize. Otherwise, a bit of searching should turn up somewhere quiet by the river to eat lunch.

The nearby Anti-Lebanon mountain range provides plenty of hiking opportunities, which again the guesthouse can help arrange. They also offer cultural tours, exploring local carpet weaving and lute making, and a visit to a museum of grape molasses in the neighboring villages.

Equally appealingly, you could just doze in the Rachid garden, enjoy some fresh mulberry juice and watch Dourga the dog chase her own tail.

Domaine al-Rachid is open all year, with limited opening hours November to March. http://domainealrachid.wordpress.com. Accommodation is $45 a night, including dinner and breakfast; $10 a night for a tent, plus $15 for meals. Contact: pascal@responsiblemobilities.com; peterlimited@gmail.com

NAHR al-KALB, Lebanon: Crossing the Nahr al-Kalb gorge north of Beirut today is so easy it’s forgettable. A modern highway, a tunnel and a bridge mean that vehicles can flash through at speeds best not contemplated. However, for ancient advancing armies the gorge presented one of the most daunting obstacles to their progress. “A few men could prevent the entire world from passing though this place,” assessed one astute observer in 1232.

With Mount Lebanon cutting the coastal plain to meet the sea at the Nahr al-Kalb river-mouth, armies of yore had no choice other than to move single file and contend with the 80-meter high steep sides of the gorge, leaving themselves prone to attack. In gratitude for a safe crossing, these armies inscribed plaques that they then left on the mountainside – the oldest of which dates from 1298-1235 B.C., the time of Pharaoh Ramesses II’s campaign to extend the Egyptian Empire from the Canaan to the Euphrates.

Plaques mounted over the centuries are still visible on the steep cliff face, all baring one found on the south bank of the river. Each is labeled and explained in both English and French as part of the Nahr al-Kalb “living museum,” which also includes a concise exhibit on the history and geography of the gorge and is accessible without charge or impediment by simply pulling off the highway just after the clearly marked Nahr al-Kalb tunnel.

The Nahr al-Kalb (or Dog River in English) itself is a pitiful body of water. Rising in Jeita, it is polluted by the time it empties into the Mediterranean. Known in antiquity as the Lycus, or the river of the wolf, it’s contemporary name, legend (as relayed in the “living museum”) has it, comes from a time when a statue of a dog was mounted on the cliff, facing out over the sea. This dog, the story goes, would bark so loud to warn of approaching enemies that it could be heard in Cyprus. Today there is no such statue present, and verification that it ever existed, let alone barked, has not been attained. However, the area is nonetheless aptly named. As one explores, one may hear the incessant yapping of an unimaginable number of dogs. If so, you’ve been lucky enough to come upon Nahr al-Kalb during feeding time at the dog kennel further along the valley.

For the most part though, a wander through Nahr al-Kalb makes for a peaceful hour or so. The steep cliffs swallow the highway’s noise, and the sheer verdancy of the gorge conceals the waterway’s less charming features.

The most systematic way to view the plaques is to follow the road along the south bank until you see an old triple-arched bridge. At this point, turn back and walk toward the highway, encountering the plaques as you go. The first, almost parallel with the bridge, commemorates the bridge’s erection by the army of Mamluk Sultan Said al-Ain Burqua. It is followed by the stele of Emperor Caraculla (211-217AD). The next few are more recent installations, commemorating military campaigns of the 1920s and 1940s, and include a monument to the French war dead of 1919-27 which was moved in 1960 from its original location in Ras Beirut.

Just as you arrive back at the highway, take the steps following the path of the plaques upward, across the top of the tunnel – where three information panels recount the history of the area – and onward up the mountainside. The steps are in good condition and the climb isn’t taxing. Nonetheless there are plenty of benches and even a picnic spot (although litter makes it less attractive than it could be) for those in need of brief respite, or keen to sit and contemplate the view out across the Mediterranean and up and down the Lebanese coast.

The final segment of the trail descends and rounds the cliff face to deliver one at the last two steles. Pharaoh Ramesses II is depicted making a sacrifice to the god Ammon, while next to it is the stele of the Assyrian King Esamaddon dating from the 7th century B.C.

With a little more time to spare, and if your feet feel warm, there are further adventures to be had on the north bank. The final stele is worn and perhaps not worth the trek to the other side of the river, but crossing the 14th century bridge, keep a close eye on the cliff face and you’ll spot a metal ladder beckoning you as the “Drink me” bottle lured Alice in Lewis Carroll’s tale. The ladder itself is secure, but accessing its base requires some careful steps along a short but narrow and overgrown path with a steep drop to the right.

Stepping off the ladder at its top, one encounters a swiftly flowing and shockingly clean aqueduct. It’s possible to ramble blissfully along this waterway for a kilometer or two into the valley. However, before removing your shoes, attiring sandals (if available) and stepping in, there are a few matters to consider – namely: spiders’ webs, frogs and snakes. The first in procession up the aqueduct will have to break a path through the ticklish sinews of invisible gossamer, and frogs will cheerfully bounce from bank to bank as you pass. The snakes, while not encountered, were reported by locals who claim they come to the aqueduct in the heat of the afternoon to drink.

When you can’t comfortably follow the waterway any further, there are two options: Splash your way back as you came, or descend the steep path to the road and follow it back to the highway.