Visiting Chateau Ksara

I went today with my Aunt and Dad over to a city called Zahle. If you ever come to Lebanon in the summer I suggest you visit it. It sits right atop Lebanon's wine region and has a nightlife, not to mention is considered by some the birthplace of Mezze style cuisine. My Dad and Aunt were looking for something so we went to four or five stores and I sat in the car waiting. I felt like a kid again, not interested in what the adults were doing. In any case I was driving.

I should take a moment here to comment on the task of driving in Lebanon. As I've mentioned several times, Lebanese drivers are horrible. Zahle is about 30 km from here, but we had to go over the mountains and through the north end of the Bekaa valley to get there. At first my dad was driving, but he hugs the curb, which in America is fine. Here in Lebanon I'm not comfortable with it. The "curb" as it were is a big ditch. After the big ditch is a big cliff. There is no guard rail or any such protective barrier. Furthermore, most of the cars really feel like they have to go fast. I'll admit it is run going around curves down a mountain at speeds too fast for the car to handle correctly. But Lebanon is one of the most densely populated countries on earth and everyone owns a car. They pass on the left so that three cars are coming at you going up hill. When one hugs the curb and gives an inch to the oncomers... Goodbye car, goodbye Lebanon. It's an abrupt end to a nice vacation.

So I drove. We made it to Zahle no problems. Stopped along the way for some shawarma and kafta. Oh man I love the food here! In the meantime some old guy trying to sell trinkets got ahold of my dad and aunt. I thought to myself, this guy stands NO CHANCE with my aunt. She is the toughest bargainer I've ever seen. Sadly, my dad paid. He's become a little bit soft being in America for too long. THEY bought trinkets, I had no interest in buying something worthless from some dude in a restaurant selling crap I don't like anyway. My dad "overpaid" which means he probably paid close to the correct price for the beads or whatever they were. The guy selling told me he had nice coins from greece and italy. I said "I don't care" in english. He told me my english was good, like an American. I told him in Arabic "I live in India." That ended my conversation with him.

So we traveled around for a bit. I didn't have in mind going to Ksara. I personally think their wine is a little bit awful. Anyway, it is directly adjacent to Zahle, so that's where we went. I wasn't interested in taking a tour, but somehow even though I was driving where I wanted to go didn't matter. Yes, the Lebanese way. So we watched a video (luckily in English, and actually informative) about Ksara's wine making techniques and procedures. Then took a tour through the caves. That was pretty cool. I like walking through parts of cave mazes which are miles long and completely full of wine. If something bad happens... There are certainly worse ways to die.

The tour was given by a Lebanese girl, who was clearly French educated and she gave the tour in the nonconfident English. But I understood most of what was said. Being sort of the alcohol zealot I am, I knew most of what she was going to say before the tour started. Anyway, then we went to the bar for some tastings. I really hate to say it, but of the wines from Lebanon that I've had, Ksara is my least favorite. They do, however, make a killer good Arak! So I left slightly happier than I had entered. The isn't SO bad, but drinking it makes one feel better anyway.

Really what I had wanted to do was go to a small winery (Ksara is probably the biggest in Lebanon) and talk with the workers who make the Arak and start into brandy talk. I've still got another couple chances. But I think I have to go on my own. Somehow in my travels I've learned a lot about myself.

Lesson number n (where n is a positive integer):
When I have something in mind to do, I can not tell it to someone and allow them to plan said activity for me. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.
Lesson n+1: I always do things in perhaps the wrong way. I always do things my way (when it's my idea) and things go hilariously wrong.
Lesson n+2: I need a good travel partner most of the time, but one travel partner is where I max out.