Roads were jammed and celebratory gunfire echoed across southern Beirut as tens of thousands of displaced Lebanese returned to their homes as a ceasefire between Israel and the militant group Hezbollah held for its first day.
Despite the celebrations in the Hezbollah-dominated Dahieh district of the capital, many residents who fled Israel's intense bombardment of Hezbollah sites and personnel, returned to find their homes badly damaged or destroyed.
The thousands who loaded their vehicles and headed for their homes in southern Lebanon, like Hadi Jamil from Ayta ash Shab, also expected to find destruction waiting for them.
"All our homes are destroyed, all of Ayta is destroyed," he said.
"We are going now to go to Ayta to see the soil of the place, to see who got martyred there, to see our community.
"What matters is that we are going back to our land and even if we have to live under the tent, we will be back home."
Hezbollah and its supporters were nevertheless claiming the ceasefire was a victory.
"We feel that we have a victory, dignity and bravery because martyrs have sacrificed their lives for us," said Ali Arzouny, who was driving his family back to their home in Deir Filzay, near Tyre.
"Also we are victorious because we were all united, there was strong solidarity. They tried to tear us apart but this war united us thanks to god and the blood of the martyrs."
Israeli troops remain in many villages and have warned civilians not to enter, but Mr Arzouny said he was not afraid to return.
"There is no danger because the fighters are there and the weapons of the resistance, and we will remain on our land and return to our land," he said.
In Beirut's Basta and Barbour neighbourhoods, residents cleaned up the debris from Israel's final air strikes, launched in the hours before the ceasefire.
"This was the finale," Wael, a barber in Basta whose shop was damaged in the strike told the ABC.
"Avichay (Adraee, the IDF Arabic spokesman) pointed at the building so the whole neighbourhood fled.
"There was such a panic, I cannot describe it. This was the first time they targeted this part of Beirut.
"We were living with anxiety but then we got used to it. What matters at the end of the day is that we're alive. What matters is that we have our dignity, thank God."
In nearby Barbour, residents swept the street and piled twisted metal below the scene of an air strike on an upper storey apartment.
"Every time there was a bombing I would soil my pants," resident Issam Choundi said.
"(But) what should I be celebrating? For me the celebration will come when we take back Jerusalem. With God's will it will come one day."
In southern Lebanon, returning residents crossed paths with Israeli soldiers, who remain in many villages.
Israeli media reported at least six incidents where soldiers fired warning shots at vehicles, and in one case, captured and questioned some men.
Lebanon's national news agency said Israeli soldiers shot and wounded two Lebanese journalists in the town of Khiyam.
Israel has promised to forcefully respond to any attempts by Hezbollah — which the Australian government classifies as a terrorist organisation — to redeploy or re-arm in the south.
One of the group's MPs said Hezbollah was cooperating with the deployment of the Lebanon Armed Forces across the south, although Hezbollah said it remained ready to deal with the "aspirations and assaults of the Israeli enemy".
Israelis forced to evacuate the north of the country during fighting with Hezbollah are desperate to return to their homes too, but some are cautious about rushing back due to fears a ceasefire will not hold.
Israel's Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu made it clear one of his goals in accepting a truce was to ensure thousands of his citizens could move back into areas which had come under threat from rocket fire over the last year.
But many displaced Israelis seem to be holding back for the time being.
Rotem Ben-Layish fled the community of Dafna, close to the border with Lebanon in the Upper Galilee region of Israel more than a year ago.
Along with her parents, she has been living in a number of hotels ever since.
"It's a strange experience," she said from the lobby of her current lodgings at the Ayelet HaShahar kibbutz, an hour's drive from the port city of Haifa.
"It's not like you go to a hotel for vacation, because it's people who are very distressed."
Despite that, Ms Ben-Layish said living alongside others with similar experiences was helpful.
"We get to talk about what happened and we are a collective … we have support for each other," she said.
"But it's not natural, and the longer it takes, it feels stranger and like a burden."
She revealed she is not sure about when she will go home to Dafna. The concern about the ceasefire breaking is leading to hesitation.
Ofra Wolff, however, cannot wait.
"As far as I'm concerned, the minute I have the security, I'm going back home immediately," she said.
"All I need is the power and water [connected]."
There is one complication — she does not know if she has a home to go back to.
She lived in the town of Metula for 30 years. It is on a sliver of Israeli land, which is surrounded to the north, east and west by Lebanon.
A year ago, she fled with whatever she could grab and she has not returned.
Even with the anxiety of potentially having lost everything, she has sympathy for Lebanese civilians a stone's throw away from where she lived.
"There's two kinds of people over there — there are the people who live there, and the people that connect to [Hezbollah]," she said.
"It's not the same people — the same people as us, that live there … they just want to go back home, and I don't know if they do have homes, the same as us.
"The other ones, they just want to fight. They don't care about nothing."
The kibbutz which has welcomed in people like Rotem and Ofra has done so for many others, with members of the community wanting to do what they can to support those displaced.
Seventeen-year-old Ron Manor is among them, and even though he insisted people would always be looked after in Ayelet HaShahar, he was worried the ceasefire in Lebanon would not hold.
"I think it's like putting a bandaid on an open wound," he said.
"It's kind of stopping the problem, but it's not going to solve it … we don't actually cure nothing."
The streets of many towns in northern Israel remain deserted — military vehicles and personnel outnumber civilians.
In Kiryat Shmona, most shops remain closed. A few have opened their doors, but they have not been doing much business.
Just hours before the ceasefire came into force, a rocket fired by Hezbollah hit the local bus station. The burnt-out shells of three vehicles are yet to be removed.
"I think that letting the Lebanese come back or move back to their villages close to the border is crazy," Hayley Lavenski told the ABC outside a supermarket.
"I think that not having a fully occupied Israeli area before the Litani [River] is not a good idea.
"If we're not there, then we're not safe — so it's kind of going back and taking one step forward and two steps back."
She stayed in her community of Kibbutz Amir, while others in the surrounding area fled.
"The north is a beautiful place in Israel, it's lovely here, and not having people here has been kind of eerie, quiet.
"I want everyone to come home. And I want it to be safe. I want it to be quiet.
"I don't know, I kind of lost faith."
