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A precious, threatened slice of Beirut’s coastline

Private development is endangering the rocky outcrop of al-Dalieh, one of the city’s last public waterfronts.

Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
A family descends to Dalieh's tide pools in the late afternoon. As private beaches with entrance fees have increasingly become the norm, those who cannot afford the cost have the choice of Dalieh or the sandy Ramlet al-Baydah beach to the south, which is also threatened by private development. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
By Kelly Lynn Lunde
Published On 26 Aug 2016

Beirut, Lebanon – Of all the Mediterranean coastline within the city limits of Beirut, a precious and already threatened fraction is accessible to the public free of charge.

The rocky outcrop of al-Dalieh in the Raouche district extends from the southwestern perimeter, sandwiched between an upmarket resort and a stretch of restaurants and multimillion-dollar high-rise flats. Activists have been fighting to preserve its natural integrity, and to ensure it remains open to all.

A natural peninsula of sand dunes, fertile soil and descending limestone cliffs that gradually fold into tide pools, Dalieh hosts a colourful demographic of regulars and visitors. Local fishermen who run frequent boat tours in the area have struggled to maintain their livelihoods amid government-sanctioned evictions that have paved the way for private development.

The future of Dalieh remains uncertain.

Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Young refugees from Daraa, Syria, swim before sunset. In an effort to protect this public space, activists have successfully lobbied against some developments in the area. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
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Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Sunday is typically the busiest day at Dalieh. Property companies installed 377 metres of chain-link fence topped with razor wire along the corniche in 2014, but much of it has since been ripped down. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Abu Issa, 49, came to Beirut from the Palestinian refugee camp of Yarmouk in Damascus five years ago. He works with his wife, Mariam, at a ramshackle cafe operated by local fishermen that sells snacks, drinks and water pipes. 'Thank God for this,' he told Al Jazeera. 'I wouldn't have any work if it weren't for this place.' [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Concrete accropodes, which when submerged act as breakwaters, stretch along a large part of the fertile land at the centre of the site. The Ministry of Public Works had planned to expand one of the fishing ports at Dalieh, but abandoned the project when private companies objected. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Ibrahim and Sherihan Essa, Syrian refugees who now live in Baalbek in the Bekaa Valley, pose with their children for pictures by the seaside. 'I'm happy to be here with my family. We don't have the money to go to other beaches,' Ibrahim told Al Jazeera. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Young Syrian refugees take turns diving as the sun sets. The two boys standing on top of the rock arrived in Beirut a few months ago from Hasaka, and often take breaks for an evening swim after spending long hours peddling roses on a busy avenue nearby. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
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Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Mohammed Itani, 27, unloads fish traps from his boat in one of Dalieh's two small fishing ports. His uncle, right, was born in Dalieh, but says his home was demolished last year by Lebanese police. Most of the fishermen who once lived on this land have relocated inside the city. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
The sun sets as local fishermen escort tourists on a boat ride between the Pigeon Rocks near Dalieh. The area boasts impressive biodiversity, including endangered species of flora and fauna. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Domestic workers from Bangladesh take photos on a day off. This area has historically hosted a number of religious and cultural festivals. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''''''''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use [Al Jazeera]
Itani dives into the sea after a morning of trap fishing. Diving competitions drawing thousands were once held in this space. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use
Jilal, a 15-year-old Palestinian refugee from Beirut's Bourj al-Barajneh camp, spends time with some friends by the water. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use
Abu Hateb bathes his horse in a tide pool. For 5,000 Lebanese pounds ($3), he offers tourists a ride, and is among several locals who make a living by giving horse or camel rides to visitors. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use
Dalieh was recently nominated to the World Monuments Watch list, with experts estimating that its social and cultural significance as a shared public space has existed for thousands of years. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]
Keeping Al Dalieh, one of Beirut''s last public waterfronts/ Please Do Not Use
A mother and daughter pose for a selfie by the shore as the sun sets. [Kelly Lynn Lunde/Al Jazeera]