The minute we got out of the car at the top of Qurnat es-Sawda, as if on cue, a herd of goats began running towards me.
I couldn't believe my luck to bump into a herd of goats as they were crossing the mountain top.
The goats were everywhere, swarming among us.
They were moving quite quickly. In the distance lay Tripoli and the Mediterranean Sea, but the goats were nonplussed with the view.
Their hooves had trod this familiar ground many times.
I asked, "are these the goats whose meat we ate in the huge kibbeh footballs at Le Mortier in Ehden?"
an old pukki/billy goat gave me a look
off they went as quick as they had come
The owner of the goats. As you can see, climbing the mountain slopes with his goats means he saves on a gym membership.