Events & Festivals in Lebanon

Slalom gates snap against a backdrop of 2,000-year-old cedar trunks powdered white. Commentators' voices crackle over loudspeakers while wood-smoke from slope-side cafés drifts across the finish line.

For five straight weeks chamber orchestras, piano recitals, and Levantine choirs fill the sandstone amphitheatre of the Al Bustan Hotel. Candlelight flickers down the aisles and picks out the pine-covered foothills; cedar-scented air slips through the vaulted stone during every intermission.

Runners trace coastal banana plantations near Tyre where humid air smells of irrigation ditches and citrus bloom. The finish line sits beside turquoise waves crashing over Roman quarries.

Church bells ring at dawn across Mount Lebanon villages. Marzipan sweets scented with rose water are passed after Mass while cedar logs crackle in stone hearths of 19th-century chapels.

Runners sweep past Martyrs' Square, the Corniche's salt-sprayed railings, and the soaring minarets of the Rafic Hariri mosque. Spectators bang metal water bottles like tambourines to keep the cadence alive.

Pre-dawn cannon fire rolls over Tripoli to mark the end of Ramadan. Sweet shops on Azmi Street stack maamoul cookies under drifts of snowy sugar. Mosque doors swing wide so rose-water perfume spills onto tram-lined plazas.

Thousands lift candles along the mountain road to Our Lady of Lebanon; pine-scented chill carries incense while church bells roll across the bay and echo over Jounieh's neon shoreline.

Neon cinema marquees glow along Hamra's art-house strip. Popcorn machines rattle inside century-old theatres where subtitles flicker in Arabic, French, and English across screens scented with fresh cardamom coffee.

White canvas tents fill Sanayeh park. Pages flutter beneath jacaranda trees dropping purple petals that cling to glossy Arabic poetry covers. Espresso carts hiss steam next to rare French first editions.

Harbor-side grills sizzle with sea bream while local vineyards pour amber rosé into glass tumblers. Salt wind blends with cedar-smoke from lemon-leaf barbecues along the ancient Phoenician port.

The Roman hippodrome seats 2,000 for jazz fusion and Lebanese indie rock. Limestone blocks glow amber under spotlights while sea breeze carries a salt tang over the stage.

Excellent orchestras perform inside the 2,000-year-old Jupiter Temple. Trumpet notes ricochet off limestone columns and mingle with night-blooming jasmine drifting from nearby gardens.

Nabatieh processions beat chests in rhythmic unison. Frankincense clouds the air and the metallic clang of chain flails rings against white cotton robes. Drums echo off Mamluk stone archways.

Pop stars, dabke troupes, and stand-up comics take turns under retractable canopies in Ehden's Al Midan square. Pine sap and grilled kebab smoke drift from nearby carts and mingle in the night air.

Converted warehouses in the Seaport District hang with looping video art, canvases still sharp with turpentine, and sound pieces that hiss like Mediterranean surf. Curators switch between Arabic and French as they guide visitors around concrete pillars.

An Ottoman square fills with hand-thrown pottery stalls and oud melodies drifting from 18th-century palaces. Cool mountain air carries thyme pies straight from clay ovens.

Stone presses rumble, releasing grassy-sweet clouds as visitors crank their own olives. Tents hand out warm saj bread brushed with neon-green first press and dusted with zaatar.

Runners hammer a coastal course that weaves past Crusader sea walls, Phoenician harbor blocks, and citrus orchards heavy with fruit. Drums at the 10 km mark bounce off medieval ramparts while volunteers pass sliced clementines to keep legs moving.

Brass bands echo between Ottoman-era façades on Beirut's Shouran Street. Jet-fuel scent drifts above as flag-flypasts slice through cedar-lined avenues still shining from morning rain.

Reconstructed Ottoman arcades blaze with LED reindeer while cinnamon-laden doughnut smoke curls past Arabic carol singers. Kids circle a synthetic rink under open sky.