Yesterday morning, two deep, reverberating booms sounded across Beirut.
The three other women in my co-work leapt up from their desks and dashed to the window in panic. Peering down from our tall office block, one woman scanned the boxy buildings below for any signs of smoke that might indicate a bomb.
“Just sonic booms,” she said, turning back to us after a few seconds, the alarm gone from her face. It was a sign that Israeli jets were circling above the city, travelling faster than the speed of sound.
The country’s residents are braced for war after two assassinations, of a senior Hezbollah commander, Fuad Shukr, in Beirut and Hamas’s political head, Ismail Haniyeh, in Tehran. Hezbollah and Iran have promised a “serious” response.
However, at the weekend, many of the city’s residents flocked to the coast, sunning themselves on beaches that foreign diplomats are scouting out as possible evacuation routes.
Meanwhile, my phone pinged with updates from embassies, urging their citizens to leave the country.
“Tensions are high, and the situation could deteriorate rapidly,” Foreign Secretary David Lammy announced on Saturday. “My message to British nationals there is clear—leave now.”
Other embassies, including the US, Italy and France have delivered similar messages.
I had a look online and found that most of the commercial flights out of the country are at least three times the usual price. Many flights are sold out for weeks.
I’ve noticed that as the airport continues to clog up with people, other options are emerging. A tourist yacht service, usually used for leisure trips to Cyprus, is now offering an evacuation service for around $1,000 a head, according to Lebanese newspaper, Orient Le Jour.
Yet most of the people I have spoken to say that they are staying put.
“Are you worried about war?” my neighbour asked me yesterday, with a smile, almost seeming to test me. Yes, I admitted. “Don’t be,” she said, and with a reassuring touch of my arm: “We are used to this here. It’s going to be fine.
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