By CNN’s Hala Gorani, Here in Beirut, apart from a pristine rebuilt center, bullet-riddled buildings and half-destroyed structures are still commonplace."Sometimes, it’s important to keep the scars so you remember how bad it was," renowned Lebanese architect Nabil Gholam told me on a tour of Martyr’s Square.Most readers probably know Martyrs’ Square as the gathering point for the young "Cedar revolutionaries", who demanded Syria pull out from Lebanon after Hariri’s killing.

During the war, the square divided East and West Beirut. The statue of the Martyrs is dotted with bullet and shrapnel holes, more than 15 years after the end of the conflict. But Beirut is nothing if not a city of contrasts.From our tour of urban Beirut, a story we are shooting for a future show takes us to one of the trendiest nightclubs of the Lebanese capital. And it is immediately clear the type of clientele it caters to.

There are two Ferraris parked bang at the entrance of the Crystal club (something tells me my compact V.W. wouldn’t make the cut here.) The men are fashionable and the women wear fitted tops and designer jeans.At Crystal, spending lots of money gets you instant respect. Beirut-based jeweler Paolo Bonja has his name printed in cursive font on one of the club walls because, I’m told, he "sponsors" the VIP table.

Club-goers who spend the most on Crystal champagne during the summer months, I’m told, get their names inscribed on a list."The party doesn’t really get started until 1 a.m.," shouts Saad, one of the men at our table.Not long after that, I was soundly sleeping in bed.I must be getting old.