The drive up from the city had been both disorientating and familiar. It is strange to see in the same panorama both the turquoise ripples of the Mediterranean and mountains heavily laden with flashing snow, petering out to a light dusting of castor sugar lower down. Familiarity emanated from the solid traditional houses of creamy stone and orange roof brick, windswept Grecian trees with branches of smoke tendrils, green poplars. All the signs were in Arabic and the dust of the Middle East was in the air, yet it felt like Southern Europe. And Lebanon is in fact the perfect balance between these two worlds.