Few cities I know have as much inherent style and character as Beirut. I was lucky enough to spend a week there between November and December 2005, months before this recent spate of unluckiness began. I had long had the preconception that Beirut was a war-torn wasteland, so I was amazed when I arrived and found it to be a stylish Mediterranean enclave, with a vibrant arts culture, streets lined with hip bars, and a number of chic coffee shops. Even the simple details of the city itself seemed to have some effortless style- present in the '60s curve of the letters in a sign's shop, to the pistachio green taxis, to the careless clutter of powerlines. It all seemed to embody the attitude of the town, which has seen so much violence and destruction, but seemed to shrug it off with an ironic smile. For some reason, my adoration of the city worked itself out through my amassing a photographic collection of the town's windows. I'm not sure what they meant to me then, but hopefully they'll give you a sense of the beauty of the city. And hopefully when I return to visit, they'll all still be there.