Economics & PolicyEducation plan

New infrastructure for education and research

by Thomas Schellen & Samir Sleem
written by Thomas Schellen & Samir Sleem

To say that infrastructure is a hot topic in Lebanon is quite the understatement. As infrastructure deficiencies loom large and many new initiatives to implement necessary projects are, realistically, still months or even years away, it is good news that an oft-overlooked need for an academic research and communication network is moving gradually toward fulfillment—with five academic institutions recently reaching an agreement on the creation of a Lebanese academic Lebanese research infrastructure.    

The five universities—the American University of Beirut (AUB), the Beirut Arab University (BAU), the Lebanese American University (LAU), Holy Spirit University Kaslik (USEK), and the University of Saint Joseph (USJ)—in May signed a Technology Cooperation Agreement for Research and Education, dubbed TechCARE, taking a significant step on a rather complex journey toward the creation of a national research and education network (NREN). NRENs are information and communications technology infrastructure networks that have already been deployed in many countries—including innovation-minded countries in the Middle East—and that power academic collaborations at a national and global level.

Infrastructure is an existential economic good that is usually in dire undersupply. It is expensive to create and tends to degrade quickly where it is most needed and thus used most intensely. Infrastructural projects often generate huge returns to both society and the economy but, in order to be self-sustaining in the short or medium term, typically require a lot of careful planning and complex financing arrangements. Moreover, some of the important tech infrastructure needs of a knowledge economy are far less obvious than an overburdened highway, an absence of urban parks, or an underpowered electricity grid.   

Coming together     

The idea of developing an infrastructure for academic collaboration infrastructure is compelling for Lebanon, which has a reputation as a small country where the quality and density of higher education providers are high in relation to its regional peers. Recent surveys by the World Economic Forum—which ranked Lebanon overall 105th out of 137 countries in the 2017/18 Global Competitiveness Report (GCR)—show Lebanon ranking in the global top 20 for quality of education in several measured categories, and for quality of management schools. The GCR also shows Lebanon to be punching above its weight in terms of national tertiary education enrollment rate.

A noted source of academic rankings, the QS World University Rankings includes six Lebanese institutions in its just-published 2019 report of the 1,000 top universities, allotting the country as many top entries as some much larger countries in the region (such as Egypt and Iran) and more than, for instance, Iraq, Jordan, Kuwait, Bahrain, or Oman. The QS 2019 report moreover ranked the American University of Beirut (AUB) 237th globally, and the third best university in the Arab world, after two Saudi institutions.

These educational accolades, however, do not mean that Lebanon’s academic landscape has historically enjoyed harmony between its almost 40 licensed institutions of higher education. Competing communal and political interests have reportedly interfered with educational collaborations time and again, as have academic jealousies between and even within the various ivory towers. Joint initiatives for the advancement of research and education have been uncommon in the Lebanese context, as have assessments of the—direct or indirect—economic potential that could result from national academic networking on levels involving more than two or three collaborating institutions. 

To anyone who is familiar with the structure and dynamics of academic research in Lebanon, it is unsurprising that AUB was one of the five initial signatories to the NREN plan. Equally unsurprisingly—although this university with about 9,000 students as of April 2018 is neither the country’s largest nor its fastest growing tertiary education provider—AUB can be identified as a main force behind the successful initiation of the agreement. The driver of the initiative at AUB over the last few years has been the university’s chief information officer, Yousif Asfour, who sat down with Executive to speak about the NREN initiative.

The idea of an NREN is to facilitate interconnections for education and research so that stakeholders can collaborate, and share data, information, and services. Sounds familiar? It should, because this is fundamentally the concept behind the internet. As a matter of fact, as Asfour emphasizes, at the dawn of the digital era, the infrastructure of the internet resembled an academic NREN that had been set free in the commercial wild via the information access and communication protocols of the world-wide web.

According to Asfour, the process of building a 21st century NREN for the interaction of academic institutions usually begins with the development of a high-speed, reliable, cost-effective network that can be used by universities and research institutions. After hardware has been installed, bandwidth acquired, and a network established, services are built into this existing framework. Universities then start collaborating and using these services to facilitate their research and their cooperation with each other. However, “cost-effective” in this case does not mean cheap. This traditional route, constructing a high-powered network as the base of sustained collaboration, requires massive upfront investments.

Moving forward

In Lebanon, this path to an NREN proved impractical. “Because of the politics and because of the high cost of the network, building an NREN was virtually impossible,” Asfour says. “[But] if you can’t build a network to build the service and encourage collaboration, and if the whole point of an NREN is to collaborate, why don’t we do it backwards?”

“Backwards” meant reversing the process, so that universities would start by collaborating to interlink their existing networks and then develop more and more joint services on a step-by-step basis, which would eventually lead to the creation of a powerful NREN. In terms of past university politics, the process of developing a Lebanese NREN, which had first been proposed several years prior, has apparently also hurdled some barriers, which Asfour identified as “administrative,” declining to specify further.

According to Asfour, 11 Lebanese universities had originally joined in the first discussions over establishing an entity that would operate the NREN. The discussions resulted in a call for the formation of an organization, which was to be called LEARN. However, this initiative did not proceed due to administrative reasons. Instead, years later, the TechCARE agreement was signed in May by only five (AUB, BAU, LAU, USJ, and USEK) of the 11 universities originally engaged in the project.

Asfour noted that the remaining six partners from the original discussions—including the Lebanese University, the country’s largest and only public university, and the public sector National Council for Scientific Research (CNRS)—are expected to join the new agreement after some administrative barriers are cleared in the near future.

What characterizes TechCARE is the equality of its institutional stakeholders. “The agreement sets the framework for defining, developing, and funding different services in a very democratic manner. All members have an equal say. Decisions like the entry of new members is by majority, and also decisions concerning the development of services are [made] democratically,” explains Asfour.

The services development road is where Asfour sees potential for university research and for members of academia in Lebanon. He cites as an example the case of EDUROAM, which provides researchers, university teachers, and students easy and secure network access when visiting an institution other than their own. As an international network that connects academics and students with resources on the basis of their university ID and registration in their university’s IT network, the development of this service in Lebanon since 2015 has been both low cost and very successful, Asfour says. Other network offerings could follow and be deployed in Lebanon in collaboration with large research networks outside of Lebanon, such as the GÉANT meta-network of NRENs based in Europe or the Arab States Research and Education Network (ASREN). In such a manner, TechCARE could result in the creation of seven or eight other new services within 12 months, Asfour estimates optimistically.

In terms of bandwidth, the network connectivity between different universities will be approximately 300-800 megabits per second (Mbps), which might seem high but is in fact relatively low in the research world. In this realm of large data transfers, gigabits per second, or 1000 Mbps, are the present measure, Asfour explains. “For research you typically need 10 Gbps. However, if you’re doing astrophysics or genomics, we’re talking 100 Gbps.”

Lebanon will need to grow its nascent NREN before it can reach a point where contributions by Lebanon-based researchers in fields such as astrophysics or genomics will be viable. But local minds have the potential to add new insights to all sorts of disciplines, if the adequate data networks and IT environments are put in place. “I think the talent is there but the ecosystem isn’t. Putting an NREN in place helps the ecosystem to enable and expose that talent and eventually get there. So if you were to say, ‘We don’t have astrophysics, let’s not do this,’ we’ll never get there,” Asfour says.

A force multiplier

But why does it all matter? Well, in most cases, if not all, development and advancement come from research and collaboration. And that is what is most needed in Lebanon and across the region. An NREN, or at least a collaboration agreement, would undoubtedly facilitate and encourage both research and cooperation. It would benefit Lebanon and give it a better international standing, academically. It would also encourage foreign researchers to collaborate with local ones and would definitely cut the costs of research.

While examining the importance of NRENs, another well-debated question comes to mind: What if an academic institution affiliated with a political power wanted to join the NREN? And what if the concerned political party did not have good relations with a country that AUB or another NREN member had to comply with? While Asfour acknowledges that compliance is an issue, he says TechCARE would deal case-by-case with questions such as a foreign stakeholder’s objection to a local university on grounds of political or religious affiliation. He notes repeatedly that decisions in the NREN will be made democratically and insists that TechCARE will be inclusive, and is not to be misunderstood as an initiative by just one university—even the country’s best reputed one.

Last but not least, when asked about the economic output, Asfour describes the NREN as a force multiplier. “AUB certainly has an impact on the Lebanese GDP. Getting five universities together to collaborate is more than five times the impact of five universities.” He also notes that  Lebanon has been able to build an NREN without huge cost, and emphasizes that the network, without its facilitators focusing on financial gain, is designed to help Lebanon’s academic community cut costs, collaborate, and move forward.

At its present level of development, Lebanon’s NRENs remains a long way from perfection, but it has great potential to enhance Lebanon’s academic research standing in the region, and hopefully the world; help the lucky students of linked universities put their talents to greater use; and contribute to the economy in immeasurable and measurable ways.

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Book ReviewEconomics & Policy

A Middle East oasis of peace

by Riad Al-Khouri
written by Riad Al-Khouri

The economy of peace in the Middle East is dwarfed by the economies of war. But at times like today, when the region is being suffocated once again by the overbearing weight of global power interests, even small stories that combine authentic experiences of real coexistence with critiques of its deficiencies can remind us of the cultural and economic potentials of such coexistence. “The Anteater and the Jaguar,” which is both a personal account and a book about the politics of intercultural co-existence within the wider context of the Arab-Israeli conflict, is such a story.

In its experiential dimension, the book is the personal account of author Rayek Rizek, who describes his life in the “Oasis of Peace,” a mixed Jewish/gentile settlement halfway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv in Israel. This autobiographical aspect for me only adds to the book’s credibility and to what it represents: contemporary history and a polemic. It is a polemic in which Rizek, while clearly calling for harmony, nevertheless criticizes all—Jews and others alike—as he examines the history of the Oasis of Peace and the successes and non-successes of this community, as well as the roots and effects of the conflict on his life in Nazareth, where he was raised as an Arab Christian.

In reviewing this book, I must mention at this point a personal connection: The author is my first cousin; his mother and mine were siblings in a close-knit family, which even today thrives in Nazareth and other parts of Palestine, as well as elsewhere. For me, this connection gives me every motivation to be an even fairer reviewer of “The Anteater and the Jaguar,” whose title comes from an Amazonian myth involving the carcasses of the two eponymous animals found locked together after their violent encounter. As the book’s subtitle implies, the question driving Rizek is whether it is the destiny of the Jews and the gentiles of modern Palestine to perish in such a pointless way.

Growing up as a middle-class Arab Christian in the state of Israel, the days of Rizek’s youth and his education were good—but tinged with something negative, due largely to Zionism and its antitheses. As an adult, he headed for the Oasis of Peace, whose residents are not required to adopt a specific ideology or bent, beyond tolerance. They live with others from different creeds, however, they are sending their children to the country’s only bilingual binational school (interestingly a key outreach tool as most students there are from outside the community).

As he engaged with the Oasis of Peace, Rizek describes his change in opinion from considering compromising to be a form of “giving in,” to accept for others what one expects for one’s self. The community, which was founded almost 60 years ago, is not described as a paradise—most individuals reportedly at some point consider leaving it—but it appears resilient, as Rizek describes it. Along the way, he notes interesting characteristics of community residents, including thefact that their disagreements are usually not defined nationalistically, but by more practical concerns, for example whether to privatize something. He says, however, that there always will be arguments defined by nationality—and that on some things you just must disagree.

The conclusion of the book argues that peaceful coexistence is possible in Palestine between Zionist settlers and the country’s original inhabitants. Rizek is in favor of unifying Israel and Palestine, along with Jordan. I agree: A democratic confederal state would be ideal. In any case, the book’s intellectual basis—which the author does not develop extensively—is that the real enemy is not a local Jew or a Muslim or other, but that all are victims: of imperialism, globalization run amok, or predatory capitalism. As the Americans are about to impose the Deal of the Century (in President Trump’s words) on Palestine, we should be wary of ham-fisted hegemonizing. In that regard, Rizek tells the story of my father who, then working at the United Nations headquarters in New York and technically made stateless after the emergence of Israel in 1948, was offered an American citizenship, which he refused, responding “Do you want me to exchange Palestine for a piece of paper?” 

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Economics & PolicyManufacturing

Running a once famed industry

by Jeremy Arbid
written by Jeremy Arbid

Lebanon’s furniture making tradition dates back thousands of years—thanks, in large part, to the cedar tree, the country’s national symbol. Historical records and religious texts often reference the high quality of Lebanese cedar wood, and its renown across the region as an important building resource and a material for luxury furniture. More recently, furniture making has been an important sub-sector of the country’s economy and a driver of small business entrepreneurship, but stakeholders say this once storied industry has witnessed a decline in recent years.

Lebanon has been in an economic rut for more than seven years, with GDP annual growth rates consistently in the very low single digits, coinciding with turmoil across the Middle East and a refugee crisis stemming from the civil war in neighboring Syria. Meanwhile, this period has also seen rising unemployment and poverty rates for both Lebanese nationals and refugees, as Executive previously reported. In such a climate, the furniture business has not escaped unscathed.

“Our assessment of the furniture sector showed that it was a very important sector for the Lebanese economy before the [economic and refugee] crisis,” says Cristiano Pasini, representative of the United Nations Industrial Development Organization (UNIDO) in Beirut. “It accounted for 8 percent of the industrial output of Lebanon, but we also noted that because of the crisis there were a large number of business closures and rising unemployment in this sector.” Because of the refugee crisis and the slowdown of the Lebanese economy, UNIDO saw the need to support the furniture manufacturing industry, Pasini says. The agency designed a program and began to train and equip furniture makers last year, receiving funding from the Japanese Embassy in Lebanon, with additional support from Lebanon’s Ministry of Industry and the Ministry of Education and Higher Education.

The collaborative effort focuses on furniture makers in north Lebanon, aiming to create more jobs, and to improve productivity and market access. The project originally scheduled 150 individuals for training, and planned to provide equipment to 8-10 micro or small- to medium-sized enterprises (MSMEs). According to the project scorecard, these initial numbers were exceeded due to demand, with 285 individuals and 15 MSMEs receiving assistance. “We have been very happy to see that while our targets were based on the initial needs, we saw such demand that we could increase our targets,” Pasini tells Executive. He adds that most beneficiaries were Lebanese nationals, though refugees also benefited. “There is a certain participation of Syrians reflected in the numbers. There were several training [programs] for Syrians based on a request by the Japanese Embassy, and we included Syrians also in the training program for carpentry, but the program is mainly directed at host communities.”

Increasing producers access to markets  is a key focus of UNIDO’s support, with the domestic market the target for entrepreneurs setting up new business ventures. Even so, these young businesses will inevitably experience difficulties as they build their client list, Pasini says. “For the new furniture producers, we are trying to keep them afloat by providing new tools and keeping them competitive, but we notice that they are serving mainly the local market and, in a best-case scenario, neighboring countries,” he explains. Even though the project is funded by Japan, that market is not within the reach of Lebanon’s furniture makers, because they cannot compete with larger-scale producers already present in Japan, the country’s ambassador to Lebanon, Matahiro Yamaguchi, tells Executive (see interview page 58).

This was not the first MSME empowerment project undertaken by UNIDO. Agroindustry was originally a focus of the host community-support  initiative, but it has also targeted, in addition to furniture, jewelry design, crafts such as embroidery, and other artisanal skills. Through its assistance programs, UNIDO has provided capacity building support to Jezzine’s cutlers, Saida’s soapers, and embroiderers using the tulle-bi-telli technique (a traditional metal thread embroidery found in parts of Asia, the Middle East, and Europe).

For these niche industries, including that of furniture making, the hope is that UNIDO interventions can help entrepreneurs upgrade their productivity and their product quality to compete in today’s difficult market environment.

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Hospitality and tourism 2018Rural tourismSpecial Report

It’s only natural

by Kanj Hamade
written by Kanj Hamade

The launch of the national rural tourism strategy in February 2015 by then Prime Minister Tammam Salam and Minister of Tourism Michel Pharaon marked an important milestone in the ongoing efforts of local economic actors to develop alternative and sustainable forms of tourism. It constituted a clear sign of the Lebanese government’s political recognition of the potential economic and social return on rural tourism.

The rural tourism strategy came as part of the political and institutional changes undertaken between 2013 and 2016 by the Ministry of Tourism. Pushed by the historically low number of tourists from the Gulf countries, the need for diversification in Lebanon’s tourism offerings, and the increase in local demand for rural experiences and authenticity, the ministry, under then Minister of Tourism Pharaon, initiated a positive alteration of both practice and discourse to promote sustainable rural tourism. During that short period of time, it moved from being a public administration with a role limited to the promotion of Lebanon and the protection of the interests of five-star hotels, outbound travel agents, and illegal beach resorts, to a public institution that was proactively concerned with the protection of the environment, the diversification of agricultural activities, the alleviation of poverty, and the creation of social cohesion in rural areas.

Trail blazers

The importance of rural tourism and its ability to induce economic growth in rural areas relies on its capacity to bring together public institutions and local economic actors, including marginalized social groups. It embraces a wide range of activities through which foreign and domestic tourists experience the countryside’s landscapes, nature, and agriculture—as well as both tangible and intangible aspects of cultural heritage—while leaving a positive economic, environmental, and social impact on local communities.

Local environmental activists and mountain guides were the pioneers in the promotion of rural tourism in Lebanon during the mid-1990s. However, it was only in the early 2000s that activists’ efforts translated into a structured rural tourism offering through the creation of hiking trails across the Lebanese mountains. With the support of local communities and international donors (especially USAID), these efforts culminated in 2006 with the creation of the Lebanon Mountain Trail (LMT), a 430 km long hiking trail from Akkar to Hasbaya. Building on these environmental and hiking initiatives, local actors initiated the development of rural bed and breakfasts and guest houses across Lebanon. Between 2006 and 2011, rural areas witnessed a significant increase in the number of hospitality family businesses.

But it was between 2012 and 2016, when foreign tourism to Lebanon was shrinking and Lebanese policy makers began offering marketing and institutional support, that the sector witnessed its most significant boost. Increasingly, local municipalities, as well as natural reserves, became interested in offering rural tourism services. The 2012-2016 period also witnessed a diversification of activities and the creation of linkages with food (with the development of food-tourism packages), culture, as well as sports activities. More importantly, during that period, Lebanese policy makers became aware of the sector’s potential.

Economic returns

Rural tourism has created job opportunities and investment in municipalities that have opted for sustainable tourism strategies. Such places include Ehmej, Hadath el-Jebbeh, Tannourine, Jezzine, and Sir el-Danniyeh. Also, rural tourism is a major factor in increasing the economic value and people’s positive perception of natural reserves. For example,  estimates based on research produced by the Lebanese University and development firm EDOCIT suggest there is a $12.5 return for every dollar invested in Jabal Moussa Biosphere Reserve, and Shouf Biosphere generates at least $2.5 million in direct and indirect revenues per year from tourism. It is also estimated that the Lebanese Mountain Trail offers direct employment to more than 400 people. As a matter of fact, rural as well as other forms of alternative tourism—religious tourism, cultural tourism, walking tours—offer significant economic opportunities in rural areas.

Unfortunately, political interest in rural tourism has died down with the potential return of tourists from the Gulf, and the Ministry of Tourism has gone back to business as usual. However, with the return of Gulf and potentially European tourists, there is a significant economic opportunity for Lebanon. The Lebanese government and the yet-to-be-nominated minister of tourism should build on the Lebanon’s rural tourism strategy to revisit tourism policies and work toward the creation of synergies between the conventional and alternative tourism sectors. Such synergies would allow for a paradigm shift in the understanding of Lebanon as a tourism destination, and build toward a more sustainable tourism, respectful of Lebanon’s green and blue spaces.

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Hospitality and tourism 2018Public Beaches

C’est la mer(de)

by Greg Demarque
written by Greg Demarque

For those who cannot afford beach club or resort entry fees, public beaches are the only option to enjoy the sun and sand in Lebanon. Unfortunately, the majority of these spaces are unmanaged and unsupervised. As a result, you can see people swimming and fishing amongst floating trash. While it is certainly a horrid sight—which lessens the attractiveness of any beach day—the hidden pollution in the form of untreated sewage renders a significant portion of the sea around Lebanon unsafe to swim in. The responsibility for managing these beaches and the waste on the shore falls to the Ministry of Public Works and Transport. The ministry did not respond to Executive’s requests for interviews, but Jean Beiruti, the head of the syndicate of seaside resort operators, said the ministry does not have the budget to manage public beaches and has left them without supervision or maintenance. As such, it seems that those who lack the funds are destined to either swim among the trash, or take matters into their own hands by not littering and cleaning up after themselves.

Sparkling precious stones? No, just pieces of plastic—Maameltein, Jounieh
It's a nice day for a plastic BBQ—Ain el-Mraisseh, Beirut
Fresh water from Lebanon's natural springs—Ain el-Mraisseh, near AUB beach, Beirut
Scuba diving on the corniche—Ain el-Mraisseh, Beirut
My little corner of paradise—Ain el-Mraisseh, Beirut
Burying dad with garbage—Saida, Lebanon
Don’t look down—Raouche, Beirut
Thank God pictures don’t come with scents—Tripoli
Drive-in beach—Near Halat, Kesrouan
Littering our own backyard—Tabarja, Kesrouan
Flush the toilet—Ramleh el-Baida, Beirut
A million dollar view —Ramleh el-Baida, Beirut
Lebanese dolce vita—Raouche, Beirut
This black water looks like the perfect fishing spot!—Ain el Mraisseh, Beirut
Lebanese sea food—Raouche, Beirut
The symbol of Lebanon’s tourism—Raouche, Lebanon
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Beach clubsHospitality and tourism 2018Special Report

Slice of heaven

by Ralph Nader
written by Ralph Nader

Nothing feels better than spending a day or two, a month, or even an entire summer right on the coastal shore of the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean Sea. It is one of life’s priceless pleasures, but for Lebanon’s beach resorts and clubs, it is not just the weather that is heating up—competition and rivalry among them is also fierce.

The first private beach club in the Middle East, the Saint-Georges Yacht Motor Club, was founded in Beirut in 1936 by Michel Nader, sparking a domino effect. Beach clubs experienced a golden period pre-1975, followed by a dormancy period post-war, with a greater focus on publicly accessible beaches between 1990 and 2002. From 2003 until today, beach clubs started to develop both inside and outside the capital, until an estimated 300 had been constructed along the country’s 225 km coastline. With more competition to win over beachgoers from a population of just 4 million, and around 2 million tourists annually, operators have been forced to change up their offerings to stand out in an increasingly saturated market.

Story of survival

In a round table organized at Horeca Lebanon 2018 with five beach club and resort owners and managers, it was confirmed that beach clubs and resorts (the latter distinguished by offering accommodation) would not be able to rely on entrance fees alone to survive in the crowded market. Instead, they must differentiate themselves. All of the operators agreed that basic beach facilities were no longer satisfying customers, who are looking for a memorable experience worth sharing on social media.

While some clubs/resorts have developed new facilities to attract customers of all ages—such as the inflatable play area for children introduced this season by family resort La Siesta in Khalde—others followed market demand. For example, CFlow in Jbeil, shifted their entire concept from an adult-only resort to a family friendly destination. Allocating a budget for concept enhancement was also a strategy followed, for example, by Lazy B when it undertook an extensive enhancement of its facilities.

Hiring seasonal staff is one of the main challenges in the beach club industry, which is why some businesses that operate year-round rotate staff through their various outlets to ensure trained individuals are always available depending on each outlet’s needs. With Eddésands leading the way in 2003, an increasing number of beach resorts have been boosting their revenues by offering additional services such as beds, huts, and cabins for daily rental. Today, according to Amber Consulting’s market research in 2018, about 55 percent of all Lebanese resorts offer private zones and beds.

This market research also showed that food and drink represent 70 percent of beach clubs’ revenues. Thus, the majority of Lebanon’s beach clubs are focusing on their food and beverage offerings by adding new outlets and catering events, such as beach bars, grills, snacks, and sunset parties. An increasing number of beach resorts—especially those in Beirut such as Riviera, Kempinski, La Plage, Saint-Georges Yacht Motor Club, La Siesta, and Mandaloun—also choose to operate year-round, especially through their restaurants.

 

Concepts for all

To accommodate the shift in people’s needs and habits, beach clubs as well as beach resorts have tried to target different market segments. Starting in 2010, these attempts have seen “ladies only” clubs and resorts open south of Beirut, such as The Palms and Bella Mare, as well as those aimed at the family market. An example of the latter is Aqua Ville, which opened in Jiyeh in 2014 and draws in Lebanese families with attractions targeted at children. Heading north, you find a different concept: beach bars that are also considered the ideal spot for water sports. There are also a growing number of clubs and resorts that are adult-only, such as Orchid Beach, which has an over 21 policy, and Mandaloun Beach Club, which also targets adults. Moreover, Eddésands, Laguava, CFlow, Janna Sur Mer, and La Siesta offer amenities for overnight stays (for more on resorts see article page 22).

However, adopting a unique concept is not enough to ensure the success and survival of a beachside operation. In this highly competitive market, attracting the largest share of customers demands the offering of discounts—particularly on entry fees. Beach clubs and resorts use these discounts as marketing tools to promote their premises on social media and to target different customer segments by offering, for example, special prices for women, children, or early birds.

Other beach clubs and resorts offer free entry, counterbalancing their profits by focusing on the food and beverage incomes that are mainly generated by young clients. A third strategy designed to draw in customers is the use of online offers, available on platforms such as Makhsoom or Gosawa.

Complications and challenges

Dealing with competition for customers is not the sole challenge for beach clubs/resorts in Lebanon. Complicated construction and operational permits still constitute a barrier for owners, and, more recently, the challenge of securing subsidized loans has surfaced.

Since early 2018, financial institutions have been reluctant to grant long-term subsidized loans to the hospitality industry, as the deposit interest rate is increasing while interest rates on subsidized loans are capped by Banque du Liban, Lebanon’s central bank. In addition, limited financial encouragement from the government, such as the reduction of electricity fees, municipality taxes on rent, and taxes on profit, constitutes another financial challenge for owners. Meanwhile, IDAL, the Investment Development Authority of Lebanon, requires businesses to employ a minimum of 200 annual NSSF-registered  workers in order to be considered for funding. This requirement tends to block applications from beach clubs/resorts, as their seasonal nature makes it near impossible for them to meet this target.

Meanwhile, the outdated categorization of these operations limits the ability of customers to identify the level and standards of their offerings and of their in-house facilities, such as spas, wedding venues, and food outlets.

Priced out

Paying a fortune to spend a day at the beach has become less appealing for Lebanese families, who are nowadays thinking twice about spending a day on Lebanon’s coast. Public beaches are not a viable alternative to private clubs, since, for the most part, they are not maintained and managed by municipalities and lack basic beach facilities, such as sunbeds and sunshades. As such, nearby countries such as Egypt, Turkey, Greece and its islands, to name only a few, are gaining in popularity among Lebanese families.

With the extensive offers from Lebanese travel agencies, which are aggressively promoting foreign beach destinations with direct charter flights, traveling abroad for vacation has become a sought-after alternative. From affordable destinations with all-inclusive resorts to fancy islands with internationally renowned beach clubs, all demands can be met by the various and diversified packages.

Is it necessary for Lebanon’s beach clubs and resorts to adapt their concepts to market trends and needs? According to those who have adopted various strategies to stand out in this highly competitive market, it is. Some of them have shifted their offerings to draw in more customers, others have used price reductions to achieve the same. As for those who decided to bunker down and wait for “market prosperity”—where are they now?

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BeachesHospitality and tourism 2018Special Report

Cocktails with a sea view

by Nabila Rahhal
written by Nabila Rahhal

Dalia Farran, owner of Sour’s beach bar restaurant Cloud 59, observes that wherever there is a body of water—be it the small village well, a river, or the sea—people gather around it for social activities: “Water brings life to the area,” she muses. This is certainly true for Lebanon’s coast, which is dotted with almost all kinds of socially inclined outlets: One can spend the day soaking up the sun’s rays in a beach club (where you pay an entrance fee to enjoy facilities such as a pool, deck chairs, and service), or enjoy a six course fish lunch or dinner in one of the many upscale restaurants by the sea.

One type of establishment growing in popularity is the beach bar, which falls in between a beach club and a restaurant. Such venues, unlike restaurants by the sea, have beach access and provide facilities like beach beds, showers, and in some cases, a pool. But instead of charging an entry fee as beach clubs do, beach bars make their money from what guests spend on food and drink.

Beach bars are not new to Lebanon, but their number has increased significantly over the past five years, largely fueled by experienced hospitality operators turning their eye toward the coast for seasonal investments and identifying opportunities in previously untapped beachside areas.

The trendsetters

The concept of such beach bars was introduced to Lebanon by a few entrepreneurial minds who saw value in combining the perfect sunset view with the perfect cocktail, and eventually, motivated by their success, others did the same.

Batroun district’s Pierre & Friends, arguably Lebanon’s first beach bar, is the brainchild of Pierre Tanous, a man who loved the sea, windsurfing, and his friends almost equally, and who started the project in 1994 as part-kitesurfing school and part-beach bar for enjoying drinks with his friends, recounts his son Jad Tanous. The project gradually grew into a fully-fledged business, and in 2003 Pierre & Friends became “official,” meaning they hung up a sign and streamlined their operations. Tanous says each year has been busier than the previous one, as people hear about the venue via word-of-mouth and international publications that placed Pierre & Friends on the “to-do” list of tourism in Lebanon.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

It was not long after Pierre & Friends became official that other beach bars started opening nearby, and today around six venues lie side by side on the narrow strip of pebbly shore in Tehoum, just before Batroun, with several similar outlets operating a little further north. “When people saw our success, more operators started opening similar concepts around us, and, as a result, hotels and bungalows started opening around us as well. All this benefited the area, as it brought more visitors to it,” explains Tanous.

Further north, Anfeh’s Tahet el-Rih public beach, along with its private chalets turned restaurants, picturesque blue and white motif reminiscent of Greek islands, and clean blue waters is emerging as a potential location for new hospitality operators to spread their wings. Simon Azar, manager of Chez Fouad, says his was the second family on the strip to transform their chalet into a beach restaurant—complete with a pool previously built when the property was a chalet—in 2016.

Azar says that right from the start they became known for their good food—they served local fish from Anfeh and used only fresh ingredients—and attracted a lot of clients, which forced them to grow their business faster than anticipated. “For two years we used the kitchen of the chalet and cooked in a very basic way—we barely had cutlery at the beginning,” he says, laughing. “The more we made money, the more we added to the restaurant and grew it. We had a lot of people visit in the first season, around 200 per day on the weekends and holidays, so it was a bit difficult, but we learned fast. Today I welcome around 550 people on a busy day and night combined. Azar adds that he has now transformed the entire chalet into a kitchen and has bought industrial cooking equipment. Azar is sure that it is only a matter of time until more outlets in Tahet El-Rih will be inspired by his success and capitalize on their assets.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Beach bars have not found ground yet on the shores of south Lebanon, with the exception of Sour where Farran also started a trend with Cloud 59. Farran explains that she acquired her spot back in 2003, when the municipality had taken control of the catering tents on the public beach in an attempt to organize them (see article on public beaches). “For me, it began as a parallel income from my main job with the UN, especially since I love the sea and music. At the beginning, people from Beirut and the north were wary about visiting the south, since they felt it was too far and unknown to them, but today I have many customers from Beirut, Jbeil, Tripoli, and even Akkar who have become regulars,” she explains, saying that she welcomes no less than 500 people on a busy day with half as many coming on a weekend night. She credits her success to the casual atmosphere that has resonated well with her customers, as is evidenced by the many user-generated posts on social media—which Farran says has also helped to boost the number of visitors to Cloud 59.

A change of scenery

The beach bar trend started in a “mom-and-pop” way with small operations gradually growing larger and more professional. Once the potential of beach bars became clear, hospitality operators with several well established venues in Greater Beirut decided to dip their feet in the seasonal coastal business as a means of diversification. Elie Barhoush, owner of Tonic cocktail bar, which has locations in Jounieh, and now in Okaibeh, says, “We have a location in the mountains, and we launched a beach bar two years ago in White Beach Batroun. We thought of opening at the beach because we saw potential in such a project as we realized that Lebanese like to go to coastal outlets in the summer, whether during the day or night. The concept of having a beach bar and restaurant is a growing trend that was set by Pierre and Friends and developed with time, and so we thought we could benefit from it.”

This season, Barhoush moved Tonic from Batroun to Okaibeh, next to Safra, which he says is a better opportunity for them, since it is a larger space and allows them to have a wide shore, a restaurant,  a bar, and lounge area. Barhoush believes that other projects will follow in the area next year because of its proximity to Beirut compared to Batroun: “People coming from Dbayeh and Beirut will find it closer than driving the extra way to Batroun to get the same type of pebbly shore, clean sea water, and vibes that they get in Batroun.”  

The seasonal hospitality business first came to be seen as an essential market to tap into in 2012 as a result of the war in Syria and the subsequent slowdown of the Lebanese economy, explains Danny Khoury, managing partner of DAWA Entertainment, which owns and operates bar restaurants Dany’s, Main Street, and Wall Street. “Work in summer in Beirut slowed down because locals were either in the mountains or by the beach and there weren’t enough tourists in Lebanon to make up for their absence. So we went to the mountains as well. This is our third season in Broumana, and we were among the first five outlets there,” explains Khoury, adding that back then, they had also thought of opening a beach bar in the Batroun-Kfarabida area but were hesitant about the location.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Khoury finally decided to open a Dany’s beach tent in Sour instead of in the north. “The crowd in Sour suits us because it is laid back like us, and this is why we chose it over Batroun. Another good reason why we chose Sour is the construction of the Jal el-Dib Bridge, which has created even more traffic than there was previously on that highway, so many people will prefer to head south to avoid that jam,” he explains, adding that demand for a concept like theirs has a key motivator. “There are many tents that serve alcohol there, but not in a cocktail bar and restaurant style. There is only Cloud 59 that fits this model, and when people don’t find a place in it, they end up going to other tents. So we can benefit from that market in addition to our loyal clients who know us from Beirut.” 

Seasons in the sun

Although the sun shines quite a lot in Lebanon, the season for beach bars is three months long at best. This means that such operations have to make their money in a short period of time. All of the beach bars mentioned operate day and night, although some owners, like Farran, say they are decidedly busier during the day. In an effort to keep people drinking for longer, both Dany’s and Tonic introduced sunset happy hour formulas to bars. Others, such as Cloud 59, place a minimum order charge ($10 on a weekend) to avoid the scenario of having people spend all day on a bottle of water. Azar requires all guests to order lunch when they come to Chez Fouad.

To Khoury, a short season means investment in the venue should be kept tight. “Summer escapes should not be big investments, even if you have the best location in a seasonal city. This is because the season is short, and so to a return a big investment of say $500,000, you would need at least eight years of good work. Eight years is a lot for a country like Lebanon, where the economic situation is weak,” he explains noting that his investment in Dany’s Sour was less than $30,000 since they made use of a mobile bar they owned and got support from their sponsors for the beach umbrellas and other items. “Otherwise, it would not have been possible to break even this year and make a little profit. We chose it that way because it is a new area for us, and we want to test it. If we break even and make money on the side, next year we will improve on it,” he says. Barhoush sees that although investment in some items like furniture can be kept low and still fit the rustic spirit of a beach bar, things like a good sound system and equipment should not be compromised.

Barhoush says a major expense in beach bars is annual maintenance as daily exposure to the salty sea air can be damaging to items like the point of sale or sound systems, so they have to be repaired almost every season. Tanous says he spends $10,000 to $15,000 per year on the maintenance of Chez Fouad, which includes repairing any damages caused by storms, as well as repainting, and setting up.

Farran sums up the struggles of seasonal outlets by saying, “Working on the beach is a challenge because of the heat and the seasonality, which means you have to find new staff almost every year. I think seasonal projects are a challenge everywhere. It’s like opening a new restaurant every year because you have to set up the place from scratch and hire new staff.”

A hazy summer sky

Another challenge faced by seasonal beach outlets as opposed to seasonal mountain outlets is that customers perceive beach bars as escapes to spend the day in, and therefore interact with them differently. “Weekdays on the beach are slower than weekends, since most people are at work. They are certainly slower than businesses in seasonal outlets in the mountains. For example, it’s a short drive to reach Brummana for an after work drink, while you would not head to Sour from Beirut for a similar outing; you would only visit at night if you were there since the morning, or if you are spending the night nearby,” explains Khoury.

Both Barhoush and Azar mention the fickle weather this year as a challenge, telling Executive in early June that the season had not yet picked up, despite being already well underway at the same time last year despite Ramadan also falling in June 2017.

Barhoush also mentions the rising number of beach bars and the competition among them as a challenge. “You have to give people good value and maintain standards to stay ahead of the game,” he says.

Despite the challenges, beach bars are breathing life into some areas along Lebanon’s coast, gathering people from all around the country for good times under sunny skies and offering alternatives for both residents of the area, and those who are staying overnight in coastal hotels and resorts.

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Environmental impactHospitality and tourism 2018Special Report

A sea of garbage

by Charlie Darwich-Houssami
written by Charlie Darwich-Houssami

As Lebanon’s summer season gets underway—off to a sleepy start thanks to Ramadan and atypical June weather—local media reports suggesting a drastic decline in the cleanliness of the country’s coastal waters have tempered the country’s beach mania.

Michel Afram, the director-general of the Lebanese Agricultural Research Institute (LARI), issued a warning in June that Lebanon had crossed the threshold in terms of environmental degradation. “The sea along Lebanon’s coast is extremely polluted,” Afram told The Daily Star. “This is nothing new, but it is surely getting worse.”

Wasting away

While a 2017 LARI study found that no water source in Lebanon was free of contamination—in results that harmonized with 2011 findings by the World Bank on several fresh water sources—Afram told The Daily Star that a 2018 study was underway, and would likely find even higher levels of toxic water contamination.

A June headline from local paper Al-Akhbar summed up the mood: “No region in Lebanon is free of pollution: Farewell to swimming.” Beirut.com followed, with: “Lebanese waters: Up to 100% pollution everywhere.”

A little dramatic, perhaps, but the severity of Lebanon’s coastal pollution is, without doubt, alarming.

The country’s coastline suffers from negligent littering, poor industrial waste disposal practices, and an extremely problematic national solid waste management plan. Greenpeace’s Julien Jreissati tells Executive that Lebanon generates around 2.5 million tons of solid waste per year, between 11 to 13 percent of which is plastic. Around 700 to 830 tons of plastic is disposed of in the country every day, much of it turning up on Lebanon’s beaches.

Lebanon’s landfills make an outsized contribution to coastal pollution, given that  the country’s three major, overworked dumps—Costa Brava, Bourj Hammoud, and Naameh—are right by the sea. Despite the lack of official case studies or government documentation, local media reports and eyewitness accounts suggest that garbage is being swept directly from these coastal landfills into the sea, particularly during periods of heavy rainfall. 

“What you see on the shores and floating on the surface of the water is only a small part of it,” Jreissati tells Executive. “Almost 90 percent of the waste goes under the seabed. These become microplastics eventually, since plastic decomposes into microplastic after hundreds of years but it never biodegrades—it is persistent in nature.”

Activists have consistently pointed to the environmental costs of such solid waste pollution, arguing that  leachate from garbage negatively affects the country’s marine life.

A toxic mix

The country’s waterways contain traces of heavy metals, with mercury, lead, cadmium, copper, and zinc all found in varying concentrations, according to The Daily Star. In 2011, an environment ministry report produced in partnership with UNDP found that the level of the chemical nitrate varied drastically between different coastal areas, with low levels recorded in Jbeil, but much higher quantities in Ramlet el-Baida. The US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) notes that accidentally drinking water containing high levels of nitrate can lead to blue baby syndrome, symptoms of which include shortness of breath and blue-tinted skin, and which—as the name implies—primarily affects infants. 

Sewage, too, has long been a major factor in the cleanliness of Lebanon’s coastal waters, although—given the variations in sewage treatment and disposal infrastructure in different areas—the level of water contamination are not uniform along the coast.

One way to determine this contamination level is to examine the levels of Escherichia coli—commonly known as E. coli—a type of bacteria that lives within the intestines of people and animals, strains of which can cause infections. According to the EPA, water containing over 126 E. coli colonies per 100 milliliters is considered dangerous to swim in, due to its potential negative health impacts. 

 A 2013 American University of Beirut study of water samples  from different Lebanese coastal regions found the cleanest sections to be Batroun, Jbeil, and Sour, based on the E.coli concentration, while the most polluted areas were Tripoli and Ramlet el-Baida. In Sour, only four E.coli colonies were present per 100 milliliters of water; in Ramlet el-Baida, Beirut’s last public beach, there were over 1,000.

The LARI 2017 study confirmed that Batroun’s waters host some of the country’s lowest levels of aerobic germs, while the sea off areas such as Tripoli and Ramlet al-Baida contains high levels of coliform bacteria (organisms found in fecal matter and used as a measure of sanitary quality). This is unsurprising, given that the latter is polluted by two sewage outfalls.

Despite the variations in contamination levels along Lebanon’s coast, Afram told The Daily Star that swimming in the sea from anywhere in the country posed a risk. “Just because some of these places have the least amount of contaminants, it doesn’t make the water safe to swim in,” he said, cautioning particularly against swimming with an open wound.

While the potential health impacts of Lebanon’s polluted coastal waters are hard to assess precisely, beachgoers over the past few years have anecdotally reported emerging from a refreshing swim only to develop rashes across their exposed skin.

Take a dip, if you dare.

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Hospitality and tourism 2018Public BeachesSpecial Report

The people’s beaches

by Nabila Rahhal
written by Nabila Rahhal

The French Riviera, Italy’s Amalfi Coast, and the shores of Greece’s Mykonos all have something in common: the existence of luxury private beach resorts and glitzy beach clubs alongside pristine and well-managed public beaches that are free for all. The presence of proper public beaches in a country is a significant contributor to its appeal to tourists—and hence its economy—not to mention a way to improve quality of life for the country’s residents.

While Lebanon has an abundance of private beach clubs and resorts, ask most Lebanese to name a public beach they would gladly visit—without being harassed by security guards from private beach resorts demanding they leave their “property,” or tripping over garbage—and they will be hard pressed to come up with an answer besides the Tyre Coast Nature Reserve.

Who’s responsible?

Lebanon’s coastline falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Public Works and Transport (MoPWT), specifically the Directorate General of Land and Maritime Transport. It is thus the ministry’s responsibility to protect and manage the country’s public beaches.

All beaches on Lebanon’s coast are, by law, public beaches, but only some of them are designated by the MoPWT as beaches for public use and therefore managed as such. The rest of Lebanon’s beaches are either neglected or used by private beach resorts as an extension of their projects. While no one can stop you from spreading a towel on any beach in the country, you may be harassed for doing so, if not prevented initially by gates and entry fees.

According to Iffat Idriss of Operation Big Blue (OBB), an activist network that seeks to protect the Mediterranean coast, in 2001 the MoPWT developed a strategy that designated fourteen coastal areas in various Lebanese cities as public beaches. The plan proposed to receive bids from NGOs and institutions to manage these beaches on the ministry’s behalf. That strategy never saw the light of day, she says. (The MoPWT did not respond to multiple requests from Executive to confirm the existence of such a plan, or other information provided by sources for this article.)

Jean Beiruti, the head of the syndicate of seaside resort operators, claims that only seven truly public beaches remain today, and that the MoPWT had been working on managing and developing these beaches before its budget was recently reduced. This means that operational expenses, such as hiring lifeguards, maintaining the beaches’ cleanliness, and constructing bathrooms, can no longer be funded, explains Beiruti, and without a budget to fund the maintenance of public beaches, there may soon be none left.

The public beaches that are still maintained today are either run by a city’s municipality or—in the case, for instance, of Ramlet el-Baida—by an organization on behalf of the MoPWT. Executive met with three public beach operators to learn more about the different models of managing a public asset like a beach, in a way that ensures all stakeholders’ rights are respected while providing a well-run facility attracting locals and tourists alike.

Ramlet el-Baida

The only public beach in Beirut is in Ramlet el-Baida, one of Lebanon’s more expensive areas in terms of real estate—as evidenced by the lavish residential buildings facing the beach. The 1,300m long strip of beach was popular in the 1960s and early 1970s, before the civil war took over and transformed it into an abandoned dump. Idriss recalls that when OBB formed to help clean Lebanon’s coastline in 1997, Ramlet el-Baida’s shore and seabed was covered in meters-deep trash that had accumulated during the war.

It was while cleaning up the beach that OBB discovered that sea turtles lived in these waters, laying their eggs in Ramlet el-Baida’s sand. They requested and received permission from the director general of land and maritime transport at the MoPWT, Abdel Hafeez el-Kaissi, to monitor the turtles and make sure they are protected. This led to a good relationship between OBB and the maritime transport division, and so, when the MoPWT put the management of public beaches out to tender in 2001, OBB won the right to manage Ramlet el-Baida.

At the time, explains Idriss, the beach had acquired a reputation as a dangerous place because it was unmonitored and fights regularly broke out on it. The beach was also polluted, and despite OBB’s cleaning efforts, people continued to use it as a dumping ground. To counter this, the first thing OBB did when it took over management was to develop a strategy for running an eco-beach. This strategy took into consideration four main elements: service management, which included all basic services, such as a clean bathroom and shower area and lifeguards on duty; environment management, which ensured the cleanliness of the shore through proper waste management and a plan for sewage treatment; raising awareness among beach users on the importance of protecting the environment, through activities and signage; and statistics and information management, whereby OBB gathered data on beach and water quality. 

With this strategy in hand, OBB took over Ramlet el-Baida, divided it into physical areas to better manage people’s interest in and expectations of a public beach. These divisions remain today, splitting the beach into several different pockets: one for sunbeds that beachgoers can rent for a small fee; one for women who would rather be secluded from other beach goers; one with tables and chairs for rent; and another for free use, to which people can bring their own picnics, tables, and chairs. A final area was due to be designated for argileh and barbecues, to lower the likelihood of beach goers burning their feet on hot coals buried in the sand. The only restrictions OBB enforces are on alcohol and public indecency (suntanning topless or naked), which are both against the law in Lebanon. (Consuming alcohol in public is against the law in Lebanon, according to lawyers Executive spoke to, though this law seems to be enforced only rarely).

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Managing such an operation requires a budget for annual maintenance and the setting up of tents, lifeguard posts, and other equipment, as well as the means to finance the salaries of the 60 employees who work on the beach (lifeguards, security guards, and others). The ministry does not have a budget to support Ramlet el-Baida public beach, says Idriss, and OBB thus covers its expenses by selling snacks and water at the kiosk on the beach as well as  renting out sunbeds, chairs, and tables. The organization also relies on various kinds of donations, for example furniture, which they revamp and use to beautify the beach as much as possible.

While OBB has good intentions, it is working with limited  available resources and a tight budget since the MoWT does not have the financial means to support it. It does not help that the beach water is polluted with unregulated sewage disposal, according to multiple sources. And yet, approximately 2,000 people still access Ramlet el-Baida on a busy day, according to Idriss, swimming in the sea in spite of multiple warnings about the poor quality of the water.

Anfeh

Anfeh’s public beach, Tahet el-Rih, got its name due to its  protection from the wind. A rocky beach known for the blue and white walls of the structures around it (the result of a joint agreement between the municipality and the owners, struck more than a decade ago), Tahet el-Rih is reminiscent of Greek coastal villages.

Prior to the Lebanese civil war, according to Anfeh municipality lawyer Kamel Anjoul, some  residents acquired permits from the public works ministry to develop salt mines along Tahet el-Rih, as Anfeh was then known for salt mining. During the war years, salt mining was no longer a lucrative business and so many of these people converted their salt mines into small chalets for personal use.

In 2014, says Anjoul, some of these people remodeled their chalets again, this time into small restaurants to cater to those who were accessing the public beach. At the same time, he says, Anfeh’s seawater was gaining a reputation for being among the cleanest in Lebanon. This came just in time for Lebanon’s garbage crisis, when beach lovers were desperately seeking unpolluted beaches in which to dip their toes. Anfeh’s reputation drew in more visitors, encouraging more chalet owners to convert their chalets into restaurants, which, in turn, drew in more visitors. Anfeh’s popularity was also aided by social media, as user-generated photos of scenic blue and white houses by the sea inspired more visits.

Anfeh’s public beach today boasts around a dozen restaurants and snack shops, and attracts around 400 people per venue on a busy day, Anjoul says. This means that, on such a day, close to 5000 people might visit Tahet el-Rih—placing a lot of strain on waste management. When the chalets were for private use, their sewage went directly into the sea, but at low volume, since chalet owners tended to only use these properties during the day. But with the development of Tahet el-Rih as a tourist destination, this system was no longer feasible. Restaurants also generate more solid waste than a private chalet, and some of them were throwing this waste into the sea. The municipality had to intervene, Anjoul says. “The municipality mandated that the chalet-turned-restaurant owners develop a sewage network specifically for Tahet el-Rih, and this is what happened.” The sewage is now directed into a big tank that is drained daily, Anjoul says, with the system paid for by the owners and facilitated by the municipality.  “If the beach is no longer clean, we will lose the attraction which drew in the tourists to Anfeh in the first place,” he says.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Tahet el-Rih’s restaurants are a tourist attraction that has the potential to bring heightened economic benefit to Anfeh over time, especially as the municipality is working on several projects to attract other forms of tourism to the area. “A lot is being done to develop tourism in Anfeh, but we need funding for that, and we are trying to secure that from NGOs,” Anjoul explains. “But it takes time to prepare the needed documents and studies for such funding. We want to provide more for tourists to do when they come to Anfeh than just go to the beach for lunch and then go home. … If we are able to develop [it] in the way we want and have people spend a longer time in Anfeh, it will have a good impact on the economy overall.”

But one cannot escape the fact that these restaurants, despite their attractiveness and economic value, are in violation of the law, because they are built on a public beach. The municipality is aware of the sensitivity of this issue. Anjoul explains, “The current municipality is looking at the situation from a pragmatic perspective, saying that it is something that has already happened and so should be dealt with from that starting point, without looking at the past. So from now on, no one is allowed to build anything on the public beach. The municipality’s main goal is to protect the environment and ruins of Anfeh, while trying to manage the existing situation and make the best out of it.”

Sour

Sour’s beach was decreed a natural reserve in 1998 by the public works ministry, through Law 708/98, and officially named Tyre Coast Nature Reserve. The reserve is 3.5 kilometers long—from Rest House Tyr to the Ras el-Ain area—and stretches over an expanse of 3,300,000 square meters, making it the widest shore on Lebanon’s coast. It is managed by the Tyre Coast Nature Reserve Committee, which is made up of different ministerial representatives and a representative from the municipality, who is typically made head of the committee. The committee is  supervised by the Ministry of Environment (MoE), since the beach is part of a natural reserve.

The reserve is divided into three sections, one of which is for agriculture and is located next to Ras el-Ain. The second section is designated as a sanctuary for sea turtles, fauna, and migrating birds, since it contains “wetlands of international importance,” as per the 1971 Convention on Wetlands. The third section is the public beach, which is 900 meters long. Every year, the Municipality of Sour submits a request to the MoE for a permit to manage that section of the reserve as a public beach for the summer season (May 15 – October 15), though at this point this has become more of a formality, explains Hassan Dbouk, the head of the Union of Tyre Municipalities. 

During the summer season, a 150 meter long stretch of the public beach contains 49 tents situated at a distance from the waves,  serving food and drinks to beachgoers. Those who sit under the tents or use the chairs provided by these establishments must pay for what they consume—some tents have a minimum consumption charge—and those who prefer not to pay can sit closer to the sea or in another section of the public beach, where they can use their own beach equipment and enjoy a picnic.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Every year, permission to set up tents is granted to the same 49 individuals who have run these tents since 2001, says Dbouk. While he wishes they could open the area to newcomers, he claims that this is not possible under the current system. A big tent rents for $660 per month while the smaller ones cost close to $580. Aside from renting out the tents, the municipality also makes money from the beach via parking lot fees, which are set at $2 a day. Dbouk says 45 percent of the total revenue goes to the Tyre Coast Nature Reserve Committee and the rest is used by the municipality to cover their expenses, including maintenance and supervisory work.

At the start of every season, the municipality levels the sand on the public beach and removes the accumulated waste. They then check the infrastructure, which includes running water and the sewage system—the municipality has developed a sanitation network with two small pumping stations for the tented area only. The municipality also supervises the tents to make sure there are no violations to the rights of the public (infringing on the area designated for free public use) and that basic appearances and safety standards are met (clean kitchens and no broken furniture, for example). Finally, the municipality, in cooperation with the public works ministry, ensures the presence of lifeguards and other staff, while the Red Cross has a tent on the beach to treat any injuries.

While Sour’s public beach was always an attraction—the tents have existed in one form or another since the 1970s, says Dbouk—the past five years have seen a significant increase in the number of visitors, reaching up to 20,000 on a busy day (usually on Sundays and they have around ten such days per season). Dbouk says the beach could host even more, if its capacity were increased by adding a small section of the protected area to it—something he is against. He believes this growing popularity is due to Sour’s reputation for clean sea water and its proper management. It is a place, he says, where people can enjoy a day on a free beach without feeling they have compromised their standards of comfort and services.

This influx of visitors has become a bit of a challenge, explains Dbouk, although the municipalities union is happy with the boost to Sour’s economy from the visitors. Still, managing waste on the public beach has become more difficult, and this year the municipality plans to add additional bins in an effort to control this. Controlling the wildlife sanctuary area of what is, after all, a natural reserve, is also starting to become difficult, since the volume of visitors means that the protected area is sometimes encroached upon by wandering beachgoers. Dbouk plans to raise this issue with the reserve’s committee to reach a satisfactory solution for all parties.

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Beach resortsHospitality and tourism 2018Special Report

The livin’ is easy?

by Nabila Rahhal
written by Nabila Rahhal

A quick online search for ‘Lebanon in the 1960s’ reveals dozens of photographs celebrating Mediterranean leisure. Some show people lazing on the sand in what appears to be a public beach, others are of smiling women water skiing with a backdrop of the glittering sea and an equally glittering resort, and others still are of those enjoying a swanky beach club—defined as properties where one pays an entry fee to access a pool area and services—and five star resort pools, which are the same concept but with a hotel by the sea.

It is clear that the sea was one of the major attractions for tourism in Beirut back in the day. Today, a few of the beach clubs and resorts from the 1960s are still operational and many others have entered the arena, outgrowing the boundaries of Beirut to spread across a significant portion of Lebanon’s 225 km long coast—pretty much wherever is not occupied with agricultural or industrial areas.

While these outlets had their years in the sun, lack of proper planning, sea pollution, a highly competitive market, and a dearth of tourists have all taken their toll on beach resorts and clubs—and hence on beach tourism in Lebanon.

Back to the beginning

In the late 1950s, saints ruled Beirut’s coast starting with Lebanon’s first resort hotel Saint Georges (located in downtown Beirut) and moving on to beach clubs Saint Simon and Saint Michel, both of which were in Ouzai, on the southern outskirts of Beirut—which was back then the “it” location for beach clubs in Beirut. “The concept of beach clubs was popular historically and the most beautiful and biggest beaches were in Ouzai and Jounieh. Jounieh served more as a public beach, but Ouzai was where the best clubs were: St. Simon, St. Michel; Pepe Abed also had a beach there and it was “the” place by all means. When planes would come to Lebanon [tourists] would see that, and the first thing they would do is book a hotel in Ouzai,” recounts Roger Edde, owner of Eddésands Wellness and Beach Resort in Jbeil. This proliferation of saintly resorts led people to affectionately call Ramlet al-Baida’s public beach Saint Balesh (Saint Free). Sporting Beach Club was another successful beach club of that period, and it remains in operation to date, banking on its now vintage and nostalgic appeal.

Between the late 1960s and 1978, several resorts opened their doors, including Riviera, which opened as a hotel in 1956, and then got a permit to develop its beach in 1968. Summerland opened its doors as a resort in 1978, while La Siesta, a resort in Khalde, launched in the 1970s. “La Siesta was among the best resorts in the country. In July 2017, the owners decided to reopen it and bring back fond memories to many,” says Walid Yammine, the resort’s current general manager.

The intensification of the civil war in Lebanon brought an end to all these midsummer night dreams and Ouzai’s glitzy resorts became home to those fleeing the war, while other resorts and beach clubs in areas heavily exposed to bombing were temporarily—or permanently— shut down.

While the civil war brought the shutters down on Beirut’s resorts, it brought a new dawn to coastal properties starting from Nahr el-Kalb to Safra, and gave birth to the concept of chalet clubs or private beach resorts where one has to own a chalet—or be a guest of someone who does—to enter. Such chalets were often used by their owners as a refuge from the war (see box page 25 for more on modern day chalet projects).

The rebirth of resorts

With the end of the civil war in 1990, investors once again turned their eyes to the shore to study the feasibility of recreating the heydays of Lebanon’s beach tourism. Ouzai had changed demographically and was no longer suitable for beach clubs, so investors headed further south to the sandy beaches of Jiyeh, on the outskirts of Saida, with Bamboo Bay beach club opening in 1999 and Voile Blue, also in Jiyeh, in 2003 (it later moved to Jbeil).

But it was not until 2003 that beach resorts—complete with a hotel and multiple F&B outlets—made a comeback in Lebanon with international brand Mövenpick opening in Beirut’s Raouche, and newcomer Eddésands opening first as a beach club then as a hotel two years later. In explaining his decision to open a beach resort in Lebanon, Edde says he wanted to somehow recreate, in his hometown of Jbeil, the beautiful surroundings and quality of life he enjoyed when living on the shores of south of France. What began as a small rustic project that mainly catered to family and friends soon expanded: “In 2003, we decided to go big and go for something that would compete with the likes of Nikki Beach [one of the first luxury beach resort concepts] when it comes to funky nightlife and a beach bar,” he says.

At the time, large scale hospitality projects by the beach—especially in a then remote area like Jbeil—were rare and Edde says his intent of enticing people to come from Beirut to Jbeil for the resort was met with outright skepticism. But he says he knew the project would be a success for several reasons: “I knew it would work in Lebanon because, when [living] in the south of France, I met many Lebanese who had come back to Lebanon and were looking for fun activities like they had abroad, so I thought that if I made a good offering, people like me would come. Second of all, the Arabs, the European elites, and the Americans back then were in the south of France. Why? Because it is on the Mediterranean, they have the good weather and fun facilities. So I thought a good idea would be to have another destination like that, but in Byblos [Jbeil],” recalls Edde, adding that his idea worked and the resort was wildly successful during its peak years.

An unsettled sea

The political situation being what it is in Lebanon, beach clubs and resorts would have a couple of great years before a crisis hit and business slowed down only to skyrocket the following season. During the 2000s, investments continued to be made in coastal areas—mainly in Jiyeh and Rmeileh in the south and Jbeil in the north—but they were more in beach clubs than resorts.

With the onset of the Syrian crisis in 2012, tourism in Lebanon went into a steady decline (see overview page 16). As result, many beach clubs have either shut down or re-conceptualized their experiences to stay afloat in a competitive market (for more on beach clubs, see article page 41). On the other hand, beach resorts—with their hotels—seem to be more equipped to weather a stormy sea.

Hotels remain operational throughout the year, therefore sustaining a resort property during the winter. “Veer opened in 2012 as a beach club with only a few bungalows. The next year we opened a hotel property with 31 rooms. The original plan was just to have a beach club, but beach clubs are purely seasonal, so we decided to go into the hotel business to be able to work year-round although there is still a difference between the volume of work in the summer and in the winter,” says Adella Bassim, operation manager at Veer, adding that in winter they work on low-season rates and mainly  cater to corporate accounts in their vicinity in by hosting conferences and events.

Indeed, all resort operators Executive interviewed spoke about the conferences and events they host on their properties during the winter. General manager of Mövenpick Chadi Gedeon speaks of his hotel as being a “five star business hotel with resort facilities,” while the general manager of Kempinski Summerland Hotel and Resort Daniele Vastolo says they attract pharmaceutical companies who come for conferences and reserve hotel rooms.

For Nizar Alouf, board member of Riviera Hotel, the beach club and hotel complement each other. “Having a hotel really helps us in summer, and the beach adds value to the hotel as well. Tourists have a wide variety of hotels in Lebanon to choose from, so when looking among them they choose Riviera because of the pool, especially in the summer. In winter, they come for the service and also for the beach because we have good weather in Lebanon year-round and foreign tourists appreciate that,” he explains.

At first, the 86 chalets in La Siesta were planned to be rented out on an annual or seasonal basis, but the market demand was more in weekly or weekend usage, explains Walid Yammine, general manager of La Siesta, so they re-conceptualized them as hotel rooms that people can book on a nightly basis. Yammine says they were fully booked for the Eid weekend and expects to have a strong summer for the chalets, driven mainly by local Lebanese and expats looking for a getaway.

Another day in paradise

To maximize their revenues, many of these resorts allow for day visitors to access the property by paying an entrance fee, just like they do at a beach club. “The beach club is more economically beneficial for us because we have daily entrance fees, whereas we only have 35 rooms in our property. But they support each other in that we have many people who come spend the weekend in the summer—30 percent of those who come to Veer stay in the hotel. In the summer we have an occupancy of 85 to 100 percent,” says Bassim.

Three months after its re-opening in 2017, Kempinski Summerland Hotel allowed day passes, which at first were for a limited number of people to ensure quality service, but then gradually the number of guests increased. “We decided to have this because we did not want to be seen as a lonely entity; we want people to enter. Summerland was very popular with the Lebanese in the 80s and 90s, so how would they feel if they cannot access it?” asks Vastolo, explaining that the hotel also has 500 privately owned cabins whose owners are allowed to bring four guests each. This and the day passes support the hotel by bringing in more business to their F&B outlets, he says.

Managing a budget

The slowdown in tourism, the dwindling purchasing power among locals, and the increased cost of doing business have created a situation where resort operators are feeling the stress. Edde says, “One of the biggest expenses we are paying is electricity because we can’t use the Lebanese government supply—when it is available—because it is not regular and will damage our sensitive machinery. And then you have to put an entrance fee which is comparative [to the region], and when you do that, you are losing money,” adding that their costs end up being higher than the revenues generated from their clients.

Alouf also mentions taxes, explaining that since Riviera is located in an upscale area they have to pay more maritime taxes than neighboring resorts or beach clubs in Beirut. “When Riviera is paying a certain amount of money to the state, and beach B is paying less than that, what shall we do? Shall we make customers pay more than they do in beach B? It is a real problem,” says Alouf, explaining that they finally decided to increase their entry fee while improving their services in order to distinguish themselves from other resorts in proximity. Still, with a short season and lower resort occupancy during weekdays compared to the weekend, Alouf argues that operating a resort is not as profitable as people assume. “We have the taxes, electricity, services, treatment of water, and maintenance, which is very costly being exposed to sea air and water. People think what they are paying is pure profit, but it is not the case,” says Alouf.

La Siesta’s Yammine says maintenance of their 20,000 square meter resort is the biggest expense. “Fixed expenses are the highest; as for operational costs we try to manage by having the right staff at a good salary. We try to cover our fixed costs during the summer when we have the high season,” he says, explaining that they have managed their profit by creating affordable options for their customers that include packages that combine both entry fees and some F&B expenses, and affordable F&B choices.

Waves of pollution

Whether it is a resort or a beach club, the impact of the waste crisis and subsequent ministerial decisions on sea water, and thus on beach resorts, cannot be overemphasized. All resorts operators Executive spoke with, no matter where they were located in Lebanon, said that the fact that the sea is polluted with both visible and invisible waste has negatively impacted their business.

Vastolo says the sea is more of a liability than an asset for them at Kempinski, which is located in Jnah on the border of Ouzai. “For us it is very frustrating because we are very close to the sea, and this should be one of our strengths, and instead it is something we cannot really capitalize upon because of the sea pollution. We are very happy that there is a neighboring hotel which will open its doors soon, and we actually hope that with the opening of this hotel, the government will be more sensitive to the fact that people will come here to enjoy the sun and sea, but unfortunately next to it there is open sewage overflowing on the sand and going straight into the water. It definitely affects the quality of the water, and this is something you cannot run away from. We have a red flag displayed constantly on the sand and when our clients ask us why, we have to be very transparent and tell them,” he complains. Gedeon says that at Mövenpick they constantly monitor their online reviews, and complaints about the quality of sea water are increasingly prominent.

Yammine says that not only are E. coli levels in the sea water near their resort constantly high—they run regular checks—but they also suffer from visible garbage which they have to clean several times per day to maintain the quality of their shore. “When you are by the beach and see a piece of a garbage the first impression you will get is that our resort is dirty, even if the garbage is not from us, so we are trying to avoid reaching that point. The waste crisis that happened only two years ago is not something to take lightly since a lot of garbage was thrown [out] haphazardly during that period,” he says.

Veer suffers from both visible garbage and the near constant emissions from the Zouk power plant, putting a damper not only on guests’ experience, but also on their outdoor furniture—which has to be cleaned daily or will turn black—and on the quality of the sea water adjacent to them.

Even in areas where sea pollution is low, people’s impressions regarding the sea water in Lebanon leaves them hesitant to take a dip. “People love to come to Eddésands, but they spend most of their time in the pools. I tell them ‘I swim every day and drink water from the sea,’ but they don’t believe me. They don’t even dare to come into the sea when we have a fabulous sandy beach where you can walk for 50 meters in the sand and you cannot benefit from it. You are really fighting a difficult war,” Edde says.

All of the resort operators Executive met with say that as a result of the sea water pollution, they put in extra efforts into their pool experiences either by having additional pools or by providing pools with distinctive features.

A brighter horizon

Despite these challenges facing resort operators in Lebanon, it seems not all hope is lost for a stronger beach tourism offering in Lebanon. Investments are being made into resorts in several areas along the coast, which indicates that people still see potential there.

Existing resort operators are keeping the faith knowing that, with the proper master plan and real intent for change, things could turn around. “As hoteliers, we would love the government to take a stand and say, ‘You know what? We have a coast line, so let us capitalize on that.’ This is what Italy did in the 1980s when they were in the same condition as well, but the government decided to take a stand and make the coast attractive. Italy is just the same as Lebanon in that we have good food, history, fun, and mountains, but Italy has invested so much money and commitment from generation to generation to be more attentive, and we are getting the results now,” says Vastolo, who is Italian. For the sake of beach tourism in Lebanon, let us hope we decide to do things the Italian way.

[/media-credit] Click on image to enlarge

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