Nicholas Blanford

Although he lives only a few miles away, Walid Riachi gazed Saturday for the first time at the hotel his grandfather built and ran in the 1930s. He and his brother inherited the three-story stone building when their father died in 1983. But they were never able to see the property because it fell within a Syrian military zone. Just a few days ago, the hotel housed Syrian soldiers. They were part of an army brigade that took over abandoned houses or sequestered

homes in this once- fashionable resort village north of Beirut. But now that the Syrian troops are withdrawing from Lebanon and leaving the pine-forested mountains above Beirut, many homeowners are slowly returning to their houses for the first time in 29 years, and have started reclaiming what belongs to them. Syria completed the first phase of its withdrawal from Lebanon last week when it removed some 6,000 troops from the coast and the mountains above Beirut, redeploying some to the Bekaa Valley in the east while other returned to Syria. After many blamed Syria for the Feb. 14 assassination of Rafik Hariri, a former prime minister, throngs of protesters, as well as international leaders, called on Syria to remove all of its 14,000 troops from Lebanon.

Syrian troops first arrived in Bois de Boulogne in 1976, a few months after Damascus dispatched troops to Leba-non to help quell the initial stages of the civil war. For the next 29 years, there was a constant troop presence there. After almost 30 years, it has been an emotional experience for many homeowners. Lebanese soldiers have replaced the Syrian troops, setting up a checkpoint at a junction in the centre of this village, which just a week ago was manned by Syrian military intelligence agents. Technically, all the abandoned buildings fall under the responsibility of the Lebanese Army until the homeowners present the property deeds and a document signed by the mayor confirming their ownership. No one is expecting any compensation, however.

Some of the most prestigious villas and hotels are found on either side of a dirt track running along a narrow ridge with magnificent views of the mountains. To the east, soaring above a forested ravine, lies the snow-streaked summit of Mount Sannine, dazzling against the deep blue sky. Terraced hillsides of grapevines and apple trees fall away into shaded valleys. The red terra cotta roofs of traditional stone houses contrast with the dark green of the umbrella pines. The surroundings may be awe-inspiring, but the Syrian soldiers lived in miserable conditions. Their billets, once comfortable summer villas, hotels, and mansions, long ago fell into disrepair. The stone or tiled floors are stained and scorched by countless fires, the walls daubed with graffiti. There was no central electricity, no running water, and sanitation was basic. Interior fittings had been stolen or used as firewood to keep the troops warm in the cold winters. However, a car-bomb explosion in a Christian suburb of Beirut in the early hours of Saturday rekindled fears among the Lebanese of a return to violence. Lebanese opposition figures blamed the bomb blast, which wounded nine people, on Syria, claiming that Damascus is seeking to sow instability in the wake of its troop withdrawal. — The Christian Science Monitor