Beirut, split down the middle by what was known as the green line, pounded by bombs and mortars for 15 years. Christians in the east, Muslims in the west, now little remains of that city. The green line a physical and psychological scar.

The city has engaged in a tremendous amount of change since then, roughly half of Lebanon’s population returned and made a city of contradictions with a vibrant and energetic atmosphere. The historic downtown area now almost looks like ‘toy town’ and comes alive after sunset as the sidewalk cafes fill and the buzz continues until sunrise at the famous Monot street, where people are dancing on the bar tops, partying hard and creating an atmosphere that is absent from almost every other city in the region.

However, through the dancing and the building there are still the remnants of a battered place, pockmarked buildings stand next to multimillion-dollar apartments. People are still living in refugee camps and people await eviction from their squats. As I sat on the beautiful beach to the east of the city, tower blocks behind me, the expanse of the ocean in front of me, I couldn’t help but wonder what will become of the people that have survived the war, seen this Phoenix like transformation, but cannot any longer afford to stay in this now modern city.

However again there has been war, what has happened to this modern metropolis? In 2006 the people of Beirut again saw bombs dropped onto their country, borders violated. Now how does this city find itself? Its future is again uncertain, I look at these images and wonder if anything from 2003 when they were made is recognisable?