Byblos Castle

Put your hand on the wall beside you. The stone is pale gold, rough, and warm in the sun. Some blocks are enormous, far larger than a builder would choose today. Others are small and neatly squared. Listen, too. On a calm day you can hear the sea just below the old town, and the swifts that cry around the towers. You are standing at Byblos Castle, a fortress built by Crusaders on one of the oldest inhabited sites on Earth.

That last point matters more than the castle itself. People have lived on this small hill above the Mediterranean for many thousands of years. Fishing villages came first, then a walled city, then temples, then empires. The castle is a newcomer here. It arrived in the twelfth century, after most of the ancient city was already buried under its own rubble. So think of the fortress as a viewing platform over a much older story.

First, a word about the name. The Greeks called this city Byblos. Its own people called it Gubla, or Gebal, and today the Lebanese town is called Jbeil. Byblos was a great port for papyrus, the paper of the ancient world, which arrived from Egypt. The Greek word for papyrus and for book grew from that trade. That word later gave us the word Bible. Every time you open a bibliography, you carry a small trace of this harbour.

Now look closely at the walls again. Here is something many visitors miss. Set into the masonry, you may find round stone discs lying sideways. These are the ends of Roman columns. The Crusader builders found old temples and colonnades all around them, and they treated the ruins as a quarry. They laid the column drums across the walls, like steel bars, to tie the stones together. The castle is built from the bones of the Roman city.

The giant blocks at the base also come from earlier buildings. The Crusaders took what was already cut and heavy and ready. This was practical. It was fast, and it was strong. The result is a fortress that looks like a single piece, but it is really a collage. Romans, and perhaps people older than the Romans, shaped many of these stones. The Crusaders simply stacked them into a new purpose.

Who were these builders? In the late eleventh century, armies from western Europe marched east in the First Crusade. They set up small states along this coast. The Crusaders called this town Gibelet. For much of the Crusader period it was held by a family with roots in Genoa, the Italian sea republic. The castle gave them a strong point above the harbour and a watch over the coastal road. From here, every ship and every traveller could be seen.

The castle did not stay peaceful. In the late twelfth century, the Muslim leader Saladin took the town during his campaigns against the Crusader states. Historians record that the defences were partly pulled down at that time. The Crusaders later returned, and the castle changed hands again before the Mamluks, the rulers of Egypt and Syria, ended Crusader rule on this coast. Later still, the Ottomans held the region. Each new power left its mark on the walls.

Walk to the edge of the moat and look down. A ditch cut into the rock once protected the castle on its open sides. Then look up at the keep, the square central tower. It is compact and heavy, with few openings. This is a soldier's building, not a palace. Its job was to make attackers tired and slow. Notice how the walls lean back a little at the base. That slope helped stones and defenders hold firm.

Inside, the rooms are cool and dim. Your eyes need a moment to adjust after the bright stone outside. A small exhibition here displays finds from the site and explains the layers of the town. Take your time. Then climb to the top of the walls, carefully, because the steps are old and uneven. From up there, the whole archaeological site opens below you like a map. This view is the real reward of the castle.

Look out across the ruins. Archaeologists, above all the French scholar Maurice Dunand, excavated here for decades in the twentieth century. Among the remains you can find the outlines of very old houses, sections of ancient ramparts, and temple foundations. One temple was dedicated to the Lady of Byblos, the city's great goddess. Another, known as the Obelisk Temple, still holds a cluster of standing stones. Ancient worshippers set them up as offerings. They rise from the ground like a small stone forest.

Near the sea you can also see a small Roman theatre. Its curved rows of seats face the water. Not far away lie royal tombs cut deep into the rock. From one of them came the sarcophagus of a king named Ahiram. Its carved inscription is one of the earliest known texts in the Phoenician alphabet. The Phoenicians were the seafaring traders of this coast. Their simple alphabet spread to the Greeks, and through them to the letters you read today.

That is the second surprise of this place. The letters on your phone screen, the letters in a road sign, the letters in this guide's text, all have a line of descent that passes near this hill. The original sarcophagus now rests in the National Museum in Beirut. But the tomb shafts are here, below you. The town and its ruins were listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1984, in large part for this long, layered story.

When you leave, walk down toward the old souk and the harbour. The lanes are narrow and paved with stone, and small shops sell fossils, which are found in the hills inland. The harbour is small and round, with fishing boats and cafés along the edge. It feels quiet now. Yet this same water once received cedar ships and papyrus cargo, and it fed one of the great trading cities of the ancient world.

Before you go, turn back once more toward the castle. Look at the round column ends in the walls, at the mix of huge and small blocks, at the golden colour in the late light. You are looking at many centuries pressed into one structure. Listen for the sea again, and the birds over the towers. These sounds were here long before the Crusaders, and long before the first wall. They will still be here after you walk on.