Cliffs fall hundreds of metres into the Qadisha valley in northern Lebanon, and halfway down, tucked into caves and ledges, are monasteries and hermitages where Maronite Christians have prayed and hidden for over a thousand years. The name means holy, and the valley was a refuge for monks and believers fleeing persecution. The monastery of Qannoubine, seat of the Maronite patriarchs for centuries, clings to the rock, and the monastery of Saint Anthony of Qozhaya kept one of the first printing presses in the Middle East, used to print psalms in Syriac. UNESCO lists the valley together with the forest of the Cedars of God above it.
Bsharri, the main town, sits on the rim of the valley, a cluster of stone houses with red roofs. It is the birthplace of Khalil Gibran, the poet of The Prophet, and his museum and tomb are in a former hermitage on the edge of town. Above Bsharri, at about two thousand metres, the Cedars of God are a small grove of ancient trees, some of them very old, the last remnants of the forests that once covered the mountains of Lebanon and provided wood for Phoenician ships and Solomon's temple.
The riding here is spectacular. The road up from Tripoli or the coast climbs steeply through villages and terraces, with tight hairpins, narrow sections and views down into the valley. The surface varies from good to broken, and local drivers can be unpredictable. In winter, snow closes the high roads around the cedars, and fog is common. Summer is the best season, with warm days and cool nights. The roads into the valley itself are narrow and steep, and many monasteries can only be reached on foot.
Bsharri has pumps, a supermarket and a few places to eat; Tripoli, on the coast, is the nearest large city. Lebanese food is a feast: mezze of hummus, tabbouleh, kibbeh and grilled meats, fresh bread and local wine and arak. Before you travel, check the current security situation and the advice of your government, as conditions in Lebanon can change fast. If you go, walk at least part of the way into the valley, past the hermitages and down to the river, and listen to the silence that drew the monks here centuries ago.