The bay along the Corniche is a major hang-out for the young men of the city. They climb down to the rocks below, and go swimming in the waters of the bay. There isn't any beach to speak of - and that's too mild a way of putting it - it seems to be just knobby brown rocks and ocean down there, of varying depths. I saw at least one young man with scrapes all across his back from some sort of mishap, but the vast majority of them were just cheerfully splashing about without any concern for, oh, I don't know, being smashed against the rocks by the current or waves.
And it was mostly young men, with some older men thrown in, and some kids here and there. There was one section with young women in those full-body Muslim swimming suits swimming in a section next to one of the marinas, but that was the exception to the general rule that this was a swimming park just soaked in testosterone. Some places the swimmers had thrown climbing ropes over the side of the wall, and clambered down to the rocks, and some places there were steps down to the water -
presumably for the fishermen with their preposterously long pike-length fishing poles. I'm not sure what they were fishing for - it can't have been for the tiny little baitfish which was all I saw them hauling out of the water. But in other places there were tall, vertical rings of iron sunk into the rocks, for swimmers to climb in and out of the water, and steps driven into the rocks, so someone had gone to some length to turn the rocky shore into a semblance of a park pool.
There are plenty of people out just walking, as well. There was a local TV film crew doing man-on-the-street interviews. The reporter came up to me to ask me something or other, but I had to inform her that I spoke no Arabic. I guess people weren't kidding when they said that I could pass as long as I didn't open my mouth!