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Head over to Mar Mikhael for a burger, fries and a shake at the teeny tiny, yet adorable, Frosty Palace. Then cross the street to Papercup and browse the carefully curated selection of books and magazines while sipping a perfectly pulled espresso. Purchase a book to take home if you’re so inclined. Remind yourself that you’re still in Beirut and not Brooklyn.

There’s nothing like a long stretch of traveling to make you really appreciate home. Wherever that home may be. After eight weeks of constant movement, constant change, constant adaptation, I really started to long for the familiarity of home. For meals cooked in my own kitchen, my own bed and sheets, and conversations with old friends. My life in Beirut. It’s funny how the shift happens. Last year I lived in Beirut… Read More