As I see it....

To the roof of Africa... Climbing Mt.Kilimanjaro

2012-01-28T11:45:00.007+05:30

The view of Kibo peak, Mt Kilimanjaro from the clouds

‘It was excruciatingly spectacular’, she said. Her group had just ascended to the top – some made it, and some did not.

And EXCRUCIATING it was. Especially the last 100 or 200metres or so, when the goal post is in sight, so close, yet so far, and requiring you to squeeze every ounce of your will power. The challenge with the Kili is mostly on the night when you attempt the summit – depending on the route, you needed to climb at least 900m in altitude at a stretch to get to the top and none of the preceding days truly prepare you for it. The distance of 4Kms is one of the shortest distances on the trail, but ends up being the longest. You climb less than you think you have and there is more to go than you think should be. Physical endurance is key, but it is also very much a test of mental strength and will power to keep going. I recalled the girl saying, ‘you will think you can go no more, but push, and push. Crawl if you have to’.

When I got to the top, all I could think was, ‘the view is ok! but oh god, I still have a 2-3 hour descent in front of me’. Low oxygen and tiredness together can play havoc on your spirits. It was only a day later, when we were done with the whole trail, and seeing the outline of the Kilimanjaro against the evening sky, that it hit me – Yes, I had climbed the Kili!!! I had actually been to the top of that daunting, gigantic mountain!!! I couldn’t stop smiling silly for a long time.

The Kilimanjaro has 6 routes to get to the top of the mountain, which is a crater. Depending on the route, you will hit the top at Gilman’s point (5681m) or Stella’s point (5756m). Walking along the rim of the crater from these points, you can reach the highest point of Kilimajaro at Uhuru peak (5895m). Machame is considered one of the most scenic, but we had chosen Rongai as it is considered slightly easier.

Cold, runny-nosed (I was), and thoroughly exhausted, but we made it to Gilman’s at around 8AM in the morning. Getting all the way to Uhuru was a personal aspiration, but when I did get to the crater, I knew I wouldn’t be going forward. Just the thought of coming down alone seemed arduous and I just didn’t have the will to push myself. My friend A however, did plod on and made it to Uhuru.

Climbing Kili has been a fulfilling experience in a way I never expected it to be. Some times, when I need to push myself - may be for running the extra mile a day or even trying new interests, I find myself asking the question what’s the point of it all? (that is my excuse for laziness). WELL, may be the point is simply in the challenge and the thrill in accomplishing something beyond your existing abilities, rather than any larger than life revelation from the activity itself . I didn't set out on this trek as a way to challenge myself, but there was a satisfaction in pushing myself. And in all this, I’ve re-kindled some forgotten love and probably found new aspirations for the future too, and for that I am thankful!

A lot of people, after the trip ask you if will come back to climb the Kili again. It was hard to answer truthfully at that point (ha, ha I still was wondering what madness had possessed me to it), but I do hope I will sometime again, and may be this time will reach Uhuru too.

At Gilman's point
photo by Raven

Defying definition...

2012-01-28T11:06:00.003+05:30

... somewhat like state of life at the moment. Love this line from Monalisa Smile. Not all who wander are aimless. Especially not those who seek truth beyond tradition, beyond definition, beyond the image.

Been obsessed with un-focused photos, the lack of definition adding a hint of mystery, I think. Singapore ablaze in night lights on the walk from work to home. Can you place them???

Bridge over the Singapore river, near Fullerton

From Boat Quay to Clark Quay

Clark Quay with bungee jumping on the right

View across Clark Quay

At the signal opposite to MICA

Sunset in Zanzibar

2012-01-15T17:08:00.007+05:30

Walking back slowly from Stone town along the water front, navigating through the evening crowds, recording every moment of this last evening, her only aim being to get back to her hostel before it became too dark, what with all the hostel warnings about it not being too safe at nights.

And once again, she was struck by how much the scene in front of her felt like home – the sharp smell of the sea in the air, the waves rising high and splashing spray all over the pavement, families, friends and lovers sitting along the waterfront, in the park seats and under the trees, in conversation or just watching the sea, a bunch of young boys appearing to have some contest in jumping off the pavement into the water, vendors in the Forodhani market peddling food of every variety for the stomach willing to chance it...

As she waved through the crowds, watching the scene ahead of her, it suddenly struck her the time for the sunset wasn’t far away. Putting aside her fear of getting late, she raced to find a spot to catch the first one for the year.

There is something about being in a place so far removed from the regularity of everyday life, lost in the anonymity of the crowds, where you could suddenly be anyone, anything you wanted to be. The vacation was coming to an end, but the memories would stay. There was hope in the air, and a feeling that anything was possible… a sense of new beginnings. New year or not. ;)

Catching the sunset at Forodhani water front, Zanzibar

Stone Town

Ten days for Tanzania...

2011-12-07T20:23:00.008+05:30

Actually less than ten, but it rings well. Yes, that is where I am headed and although I say it out loud here, and when I tell friends, there is a definite smile that creeps into my face, it still doesn't feel really real yet! Early this year, as a part of a project I had researched 15 African countries... I still remember the one company slide on Tanzania featuring the Kilimanjaro, Serengeti and Zanzibar... I knew I wanted to go one day, glad the day has arrived this soon!

So, its me, R of Sikkim and Eastern Europe fame and R's boyfriend. Yes, I agree, I too don't know how I find myself in such groups! (ha, ha, just kidding). Anyways, I usually don't post much before a trip, but given I'll probably never get around to it after.... so here comes a pre-trip update.

The itinerary?
1) Scaling the Kili - 8 days - We are flying into Kilimanjaro, and for the first couple of days will be camping at Moshi which is the nearest town/city. We need a couple of days to pick out some of the hiking equipment and then we are off. There are about 6 routes to hike the Kili and we've chosen a slightly not so popular, but considered kinda easy route - the Rongai. The Kilimanjaro is the tallest peak in Africa and a part of the seven summits (i.e. tallest summits in each continent) and its highest point reaches about 5,895mts. Altitude sickness is going to be the challenge here and the last day of scaling to the summit and the Uhuru peak sounds scary! Keeping fingers crossed and hoping for the best.

2) 5 days in national parks for game viewing - we will be touching Serengeti, Ngorongoro, lake Manyara amongst others. We are taking the camping option which works much much cheaper that wildlife lodges.

3) Zanzibar - this is our last and final stop, and we get a couple of days here. Zanzibar famous for its spice markets of by gone days has a mysterious feel to it. Will probably unwind here before we return home.

Unlike the usual heavy duty research I do for my long trips, I haven't done much this time. As usual, R, has taken charge of making decisions (which I hate), so we have some plans in place and she continues to keep me updated on to-do's and to-not-do's.

Travel agent?
We are planning to use Gladys who has so far been quite helpful with our queries and are also know for their equipment hire. More after we get there!

Trip preparation...?

1) Bought hiking boots last week... supposed to have got it and broken into it 2 months back. Just starting to now! While trekking in Ladakh, we managed with regular sneakers, so I was convinced that this was more a marketing ploy. But in the interest of my ankles....

2) Winter wear - coming from India, dressing up for the cold weather is an ordeal and is usually wearing a sweater on top of another and emerging like Santa. Learning the tricks of layering. Finally! Also, found this fantastic website which has some pretty good deals on winter wear - www.sierratradingpost.com... I also recommend going to any adventure outfitter in your city and they can give you a pretty good idea of what you need to get depending on the destination.

3) Vaccinations - yellow fever is needed when you arrive in Tanzania and more importantly, when you return to Singapore. Typhoid and Hepatitis A are recommended... but India was also marked as high risk for HA, so figured i shd be immune :). Those in Singapore, head to Tan Teok Seng hospital in Novena where they have travelers vaccination clinic - very efficient and helpful!
'
4) Visa - Tanzania is visa on arrival for Indians if your country doesnt have an embassy (Singapore doesn't have one)

5) Other than which, stay in reasonable shape for the Kili. The hardest thing is usually managing altitude sickness and there is no real way to prepare for that it seems, but being in decent shape with regular work outs helps!

So thats it for the moment... restless, excited and CANNOT wait!!!

~N

PS: edited the post to correct the height of Mt.Kilimanjaro!

Uncharacteristically Bangkok

2011-10-22T14:37:00.009+05:30

And I was wondering how I found myself conned into carrying on with a trip to a country in the middle one of its worst floods in a decade. Yes, I was on my way to Thailand and the cab driver cheerfully informed me that Bangkok had had an ‘emergency’ alert on the floods just that afternoon… I have heard many stories of the one dreadful rain in Mumbai, which saw people stranded in offices, buildings, buses for hours together; I can only imagine the upheaval to life and yes, also worry I may get caught in it. I expect a wet, gloomy and damp Bangkok, and but instead a warm and slightly sultry evening greets me, not a whiff of rain in the air. It was a quick trip, and it was almost surreal to imagine just kilometers from where I was traveling to the Chao Phraya was swelling with abundance and threatening to destroy.

Some random thoughts from an uncharacteristic Bangkok trip.

Suvarnabhumi ... meaning golden land. There is a nice thrust to the syllables (we call it spashtam or pronouncing with emphasis) as the name rolls of my tongue. As I say it, images of civilization in the heights of glory, rich kings and queens, an abundant land flash by and leave behind the sense of hope and vision behind the simple name. The name has its origin from Sanskrit.

Can't remember when I last saw this many pink taxis.

A one day trip is too short. I remember scenes from the movie Hangover 2 and see nothing like it.

This skyline has nothing characteristically Bangkok... I am glad for the smaller number of glass walled tall skyscrapers. With these multiplying, pretty soon, I worry one Asian city may look like any other.

A view of the city

A lot of the signs, name boards are in Thai and it is hard to spot the English text amidst it all... makes me think how so used to the prevalence of the English language I've become.

Thrilled to find the traditional namaste (put your palms together and bow so ast to welcome) is still in use. Immediately, I feel a sense of regret; we (in India) have lost so many of our smaller, yet characteristic elements to blend with the West. This is not what makes or breaks us as a nation. Still.

The Marie Claire in the coffee shop is on Thai. So are the international titles – Gossip Girls and Peter Mayle’s books.

All books in Thai

Don't get to have my favorite pineapple rice. Lunch is in a government company cafeteria. For a dollar.

Doesn't matter how cheap the food is, I still don't find as cheap books as in India.

The sky train is hardly crowded... My colleague says people have headed home early to avoid the floods... the Chao Phraya is harder to reign in.

And before I know it, I am back at the start. Warm and safe. Suvarnabhumi.

The mythological story - Churning of the Milk Sea - from one of Vishnu's several avatars portrayed in the airport

On volunteering...

2011-10-01T10:13:00.003+05:30

Just when I was thinking of a volunteering vacation in Vietnam or some place else...

The protagonist, a Filipino, living in the US, : "...we were there in Costa Rica, helping build wells"

L: "Why not the Philippines? Isn't Costa Rica relatively well off?"

The protagonist: "Um, we didn't know that till we got there!"

-The Ilustrado, Miguel Syjuco

... found this funny. Charity begins at home?

Hopefully, no more extracts from the Ilustrado. Yet to fully grasp the ending, but loved the book, the style of narration. The protagonist embodies one we sometimes find in ourself, the part that is always trying to straddle the new with the old, the idealist with the realist, and probably for some who have left their roots, the west with the east. Mixed reviews on whether he presented Philippines truly or a skewed overseas citizen's version, but loved it anyways!

Postcards from Manila...Malate

2011-09-30T20:15:00.001+05:30

Transitioning from Makati to Malate wasn’t easy. For 2 days you are a part of the chaos the city is, but yet sheltered from it spending days in air conditioned conference rooms and within the walls of a 5-star the hotel.
Malate, a friend told me was the ‘party area’. The first sight of Malate was of narrow streets, ablaze with neon lights, buildings and shanties mixing into one another, and of course a general sense of chaos with both traffic and throngs of people. Each neon light advertises a place to eat or drink or both and every second place is a karaoke bar (the Filipinos love their karaoke)– although, some places leave you wondering what else is on offer. Boys with punk hairstyles and piercing, calling me in with a click of their tongue was not at all reassuring. Arriving at night threw me off balance I confess, and (in a very lame way) the Starbucks outside my pension was reassuring. The scene wasn’t very different from others I have see.. it, could have been Pali market of Mumbai famous for Hawaian shack or Toto’s, or even Goa close to Baga beach, and I wondered if this unsure was how outsiders felt with their first visit to India.. Next night I was more prepared and found myself having a nice evening in Café Havana. And also, the boys were simply ‘marketing’ the food places and didn’t really mean harm.

Malate used to be a red light area in the past and now is yes, one of the party hangouts in Manila. It also offers cheap accommodation for backpackers – all listed in lonely planet.

At Malate

Streets of Malate

Cafe Havana

Simple evenings

2011-09-06T20:10:00.005+05:30

can be such a pleasure, with just a brilliant breeze, beautiful lights lighting up the night landscape. Kite flying festival at the Marina Bay boardwalk... families come to try their hand at kite flying, couples taking a lazy stroll, friends hanging out... hardly too many kites, but the mood was light, conversation good...

At the board walk

Kites in the air

Battling the breeze

Postcards from Manila...Pearl of the Orient

2011-09-04T12:46:00.012+05:30

There are some cities that make you feel warm and fuzzy when you return back to them after a long gap – and until I landed and was whizzing past familiar roads and buildings I didn’t realize Manila was one of those cities for me. I was just here on works, but loved the familiarity with both the people I was to be meeting and also the city.

------
From above, the city is beautiful. We pass over brown water off the coast, fish pens laid out in geometrical patterns like a Mondrian viewed by someone colour blind. Over the bay, the sunset is starting, the famous sunset, like none anywhere else. Skeptics attribute its color to pollution. Over there’s the land, the great gray sprawl of eleven million people living on top of each other on barely more than 240 square miles – fourteen cities and three municipalities, sky scrapers and shanties, tumbling beyond kilometer zero, and the heart of every Filipino, the city that gave the metro its name: Manila.

Modern Manila. She who was once the Pear of the Orient is now a dowager…She, the trusting daughter of the East and the West, lay down and was destroyed, her beauty carper-bombed by her liberators, cautious of their own casualties, her ravishment making her kindred to Hiroshima, Stalingrad and Warsaw. And yet, from air, you think her peaceful and unflustered. On the ground is a place tangled with good intentions and a tyrannical will to live…. Five hundred years ago, Spanish conquistadors sailed their wooden ship into the world’s most perfect harbor to begin their mission…. Manila has changed much since. It’s changed so little. If you know where to look, this is the most exciting city in the world.

-An extract from the Illustrado, by Miguel Syjuco

PS: Didn't know what the square grids on the water when seen from above was, now I do!
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A rainy September day in Manila

The EDSA, one of the highways criss crossing the city

The famous jeepneys in the city

Makati - the business district at night

I was just rushing through Little India to a Spanish Tapas bar...

2011-06-12T19:13:00.013+05:30

...at 8PM on a Thursday evening . And somewhere along the way, I suddenly had this moment (yes, I have many of these ‘eureka’ moments in arbitrary places!), a revelation. I had actually managed to put in close to a 12-hour efficient work day, and then was also heading out to meet a bohemian mix of friends, and travellers for the next couple of hours. In that moment I was taking stock of how the pace of my life had changed (yes, in my past life, fun stuff on a work day was rarer than a blue moon and weekend used to be about recouping energy, although I had begun to reclaim life with this new year...) and I swear it was making me heady. And I was loving it.

So yes, its been 6 week since I have moved to Singapore, and its been frantic, hectic, and a little breathless. I feel like I may have already done a year’s worth of things (in my lazy alter ego’s scale of time). There has been work, but also different things going on at work, and meeting new people, and a lot of going out. And in all this, the drama of finding a house and settling in! I feel like I am running a bit short on sleep and more on adrenalin, but all in all a good problem to have, as long as it lasts.

From my office

So here is how my moving-to-Singapore-first-2-months checklist looks like -

1) Get obsessive and search for the so called ‘perfect’ house where I may not spend too much time, and over pay for the same ...check and done to perfection!

2) Move in, settle down... WIP still. Already had a washer emergency (aka, didn’t-know-how- to-use-washing-machine-and-flooded-the -place). Looking desperately for maid service before my perfect house becomes not so perfect, and need to find tons of things that I can’t remember. Like my agent says, by the time I am all settled, it will probably be time to move!

3) Get work started... check.

4) More importantly, remember work isn’t everything... trying really hard, work in progress.

5) Meet new and diverse people... Yes, you got it right, I actually put it down on my to-do list! I now know more people who are happy to check out some crazy heritage trail, but not who want to watch hangover-2. Working on this! And yes, if you are in Singapore, and a fellow blogger/travel enthusiast, holler. But please don't be a crazy stalker!

6) Find things to do other than work.... check, and doing it quite well.
Checked out the Mac Ritchie trail, Frisbee games in the garden, a musical, Macbeth in the park, the esplanade, wakeboarding (my bones still hurting me from this one)...

7) Travel.... WIP. A lot of plans, and a lot of opportunities and also some company (yeay)!!! So looking forward to plenty of trips. For now, have tickets to Borneo in July to see the rainforest music festival (http://rainforestmusic-borneo.com/). So yeay!

And what perfect time to talk about these 2 books on 2 women who move to more foreign lands and their experiences?

Me, Myself and Prague... Reading this book was like reliving my 1 week in Prague and Czech. Not only did I love some of her tips (to check out for a next trip), and her humor, but I could totally relate to the travails of moving to a new city (especially if you are single and may not have friends and family in that place) and trying to figure it out and just get a life really, (a good one at that). Loved it!!!

To Hellas and back... for all those of romantics who fantasize about a new life in a new land, this book is a reality check. The author has a tough time in Greece, and although, to a large extent it seems to be her fault as she doesn't making much of an effort to get out there and brave changes, but still another point of view – are you one of those who can really adapt to a new country, new ways?

The view of the River front and promenade, and the Marina Bay Sands hotel - Singapore's newest landmark!

Goodbye seems to be the hardest word...

2011-04-29T21:39:00.005+05:30

The sun was streaming through the french windows, stripped bare of the curtains that had adorned them for so long, flooding the whole room in bright light. It felt like the first time I had walked in and fallen in love with the place. There had been a s sense of hope, and of new beginnings. Except, now, on the floors, in the corner, stood my bags. All packed.

This was something I've wanted for a long long long time. Something I wanted like yesterday. Yet, at that final moment, I was in knots...

It was time to move again.

Goodbye Bombay. Hello Singapore!

An alternative side of a regular European city

2011-04-10T14:29:00.003+05:30

Who would have thought that this small city, nestled close to the Julian Alps, characterised as peaceful, laid-back, and may be even boringly nice (if only you knew!) would be defined by the word 'Alternative'. Ok, still not sure if ‘alternative’ captures it, but for sure alternative to the regular. From the girl we ran into the dead of the night, with multiple piercings and spiky hair, but yet speaking sweet, to Metalkova, to the Trn fest and the rap show in the park, Ljubljana totally surprised us!

* * *

Metelkova
Metelkova is a neighbourhood of abandoned warehouses and barracks, which was claimed by squatters (people who take over abandoned buildings) and converted into a kind of “modern” art center. We heard it was being used as art studios and also hosted a lot of parties and jamming session (we could hear someone playing, but they didn’t invite us in!). You are just as likely to find ugly goblin headed structures just as you can find the most colourful spray painted walls and graffiti. The whole place was a cross between Noddy’s world(remember Noddy? )with its vivid colours, an art studio bordering on grotesque and a well worn ramshackle biker hang out. Set in a ground with untended greenery, with a moon glowing overhead, this place turned even more eerily exciting at night.

Metalkova has quite a bit of a controversial history as the supporter's fought to retain its individuality and today it is nearly a regular stop for travellers. Its s a great place to meet other fellow traveller's, you'll find information at all hostels. More on Metelkova’s history here...

At the entrance to Metelkova

Ain't these goblin heads pretty?

The bar...

Eerily interesting at night

* * *

Behind Metelkova, is the Celica hostel... a prison converted into a hostel, the rooms are actually modelled on prison rooms. Who wants to be jailed for a night or two? This hostel is known for its party atmosphere, a filled event calender and as a great place to meet other backpacking travellers.

Both Metelkova and Celica lie on the other side of the old town, across the main bridge. This part of the city was relatively quiet with lesser thoroughfare, maybe more residential, hiding a few character-full bars and restaurants.

* * *

Trn fest is one of the biggest yearly events in Ljubljana with dance/music/ theatre (? not sure) shows. It was nothing like I’ve seen before... the place was packed with people ‘just hanging’ as my friend likes to say. It was a total social event for people to meet friends and grab a couple of drinks and catch-up on the days events and not one seemed to be paying attention to the stage. Not blaming them, on stage was one of the weirdest, (oops!) extremely new-age dance performance I’ve seen till date... Couple of people clad in white seemed to be moving to noises, and sounds ...no really, it was just a series of sounds like fans whizzing, wind blowing, then some sirens... ! I didn’t get it for sure. And the crowd was equally alternative – mostly hip-hopper/rapper types, and a good proportion of Goths... but we did meet a few ‘regular’ people who were also discovering this side of Ljubljana. We left past midnight, but it was still early in the night for Trn Fest!

* * *

On the last night, in a park on the way to the train station was a Slovenian rap show... the last thing we experienced in Ljubjana.

People, just hanging

The show

Into Trn Fest

Cycles piled up at the entrance

Falling in love...all over again...

2011-04-02T16:05:00.005+05:30

The sun was burning down in all its mid-day August glory ... one of those hot scorching days when the heat lies about like a thick cloak, like something you can feel, and if you move your finger in a slicing motion, you can feel the air molecules actually rearrange themselves... only it was an air-conditioned car, but in your head, you could still feel the hear. The mood was restive...it was a long day and an even longer journey, beginning the mid-night before... a sleepless train ride and a long car journey there after... the silence was heavy, weighed down by sulks and the aftertaste of a tiff... the industrial highways of Italy overshadowing the distant hills, raising doubts and offering no respite.

And all it took was a single breathtaking view!

It was like falling in love all over again...

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
............

Our own farmhouse apartment for a few days

The view from the window

Our backyard...

The fragrance between the pages...

2011-04-02T09:50:00.003+05:30

Just thinking of my book worm days... I miss those, but love this!

I stepped into the bookshop and breathed in that perfume of paper and magic that strangely no one had ever thought of bottling.
- Carlos Ruiz Zafón)

Hitchhiking to Pienza, Tuscany

2011-04-01T12:42:00.016+05:30

“Yes... I hike to Pienza...it take around an hour from here...”, said Claudia, who was stretched out on the sun bed, lounging under the lazy evening sun, with her palms shading her eye from the sun as she looked up to me. “Really?”, I asked and she says “Si, Si”. I wasn’t so sure, but if it was an hour’s hike one way, it didn’t sound too bad... And that is how i found myself hiking to Pienza on one day in Tuscany. But, boy, had she underestimated the time or I had underestimated her... definitely the former I think!

It was a great morning... the sun not strong still and a nice cool breeze... An hour later, I had just reached the crossroad leading to Pienza... and guess what???? The signboard was showing another good 10kms away... (note to self, if it looks far, it probably is! And have the sense to double check!!).

On the way to Pienza

The weather was still good, I was enjoying fantastic views... but soon the sun would be blazing down on me... and I had to pick up my speed. Plus, all the photography was slowing down, (yes, I was trying to get some timer snaps of myself with the landscape... lame, right??). I was tiring myself out a bit, and also partly dreaming of the previous day when I too had lounged on a sun bed in the balcony, with a book and little else to do... But it wasn’t until I came really close to the town, I gave up hope!!! You see, all these towns are perched on hilltops, and the last leg is the hardest...

And up went my hand, sticking out a thumb for a ride...

An abandoned farm house?

A young couple in a car... they wave to me, but won’t stop

A family... this time no wave even!

A slightly beaten up car and a little hippy looking old couple... but there was a lady... so thumbs up again....Voila! they pull over and I am very, very, very grateful (cannot overstate it enough!!!)... we chat a bit , and they are quite cool!!! They speak very good English, couldn’t yet figure out if they are settled here or on vacation...The lady does warn me that she see’s many tourists doing “this” and says, it’s not safe... before I can figure out if she means the long hike in the midday sun or just the hitchhiking, we are in Pienza.

After a bit of a search for the food, I have one of the MOST DELICIOUS ravioli’s in my LIFE!!!! Only 3 piece of the pillow pasta, in a bed of olive oil rather than the usual cream sauce... my first thought was dismay at the paltry portions, but it was Yummmy and also filling!!!

yummm!

Emboldened by my first hitchhiking experience, I decide to do that on my way back too...

My first ride is an old Italian man in a beat up car...I was a bit tired, and lowered by rules a bit (of ensuring at least one woman in the car. He was old, so I let it go...). He spoke only Italian, I spoke only English and well, he rattled on. He did pat me on my knees a couple of times as he discoursed on heartily... (having seen some Italian men, would definitely NOT believe it was grandfatherly)... Anyways, I was a little relieved to get off.

My last ride was a biker...I later realized he wasn’t even going the way I needed to go, but took the trouble. He owned a farm nearby too and we chatted a bit (as much as you can with the wind howling as you race through). It was wonderful racing down those roads on a bike, with the wind in your hair, refreshing me after a hot, sweaty day.

And I was home!

A note of caution: Hitchhiking was a fun experience, something I didn’t plan for, but happened. Sorry to sound like a grandmother and be melodramaitc, but I CANNOT OVEREMPHASIZE enough ON SAFETY OVER ADVENTURE any day. Hitchhiking can be fun, but please, please be careful!

The Tuscan slopes... you haven't heard the last of it!

a self timer one...

Views along the way

Views along the way

Views along the way

What a rollercoaster ride!!!

2011-03-26T13:09:00.004+05:30

I started this year with a lot of optimism (no particular reason, just a general feeling of goodness)...then some news that what I had been hoping for wasn't happening and taking me to a dark dark place.. and then fate turning tables and winds of change... which then simmered down to barely a breeze or not even! has been a roller coaster 3 months, I am worried about the remainder!!!

Still, the doors open yet again, and I wait!!!

Sorry for such cryptic writing, but the story will unravel soon!

Searching for the best Neapolitan in town

2011-02-12T22:25:00.006+05:30

Everty time I start to think I need to catch up on my posts on my Italy trip last year, I don’t know why, but I get this huge writer’s block. There is so much to tell and I don’t know where to start –that’s the trouble with long trips, I guess. I have an abyssimal 2 posts... So I am starting with 3 random experiences....or less, depending on when my word count runs out of steam.

* * *

One evening in Naples, we set off in search of the best Neapolitan pizza in Naples. We were recommended to Il Presidente in the centro storico (city center). The road was narrow, and quite deserted, but the Pizzeria was buzzing with people spilling out into the roads. It seemed a bit like Bade miaan (for those who are familiar with Mumbai).

As we queued up, we got a terribly huge token number. We first tried to find out how long that may be – everyone around us spoke only Italian, and we spoke only English. The token-giver would answer emphatically in a string of Italian with so much gusto that it could have been an ebullient answer just as it could have easily been a string of curses. Next we tried to enquire what pizzas were available in a mix of mime, English all in between sheepish laughter. The token-giver would reply and we would spend the next 10 minutes deciphering it. This went on for a bit. At some point, I think he understood what we were asking and made some reference to the pizzeria not being McD’s. We could hear the group around us breaking into laughter. We were lost – for the first time, ordering a pizza seemed like the most complicated thing.

We then tried to ask him if we could do a take away and he kept waving his hands and saying dopo, dopo. So far it had sounded like he was just being a loud, expressive man, and suddenly we wondered if he was insulting us – what with his multiple referrences to McD and him shooing us away. We were embarrassed slowly moving to being on the brink of serious frustration. And just like that my friend was suddenly incensed! We decided we didn't want the best pizza that bad after all if they couldn't even help us decently! And just like that we walked off in a huff!!!

So much for the perfect pizza!

Don’t worry.... in the last one hour on our last day, we decided we needed to give one more shot at having a true Neapolitan. We tracked down the second recommendation given to us – Da Michelle - which was spartan, white and almost like a hospital cafeteria in looks. Here, they serve only 2 types of pizzas (the Neapolitan and Margherita). We ordered the double cheese margherita , lightly flavoured in basil and oozing olive oil.... truly divine!!!

We later found out, the Dopo, dopo may have just meant later later!

Naples is considered the home of Pizza. The Neapolitan is particularly known for also the tomato toppings that goes on pizza (I understand). Both Il Presidente and Da Michelle are recommended in the lonely planet. Da Michelle is also the pizzeria featured in the Eat Pray Love movie.

PS: I swear, there were supposed to be 3... but will rein in word count on the next 2!

PS 2: Yes, I did put on a few kilos after the trip!!!

The crowds outside Da Michelle

A divine margherita

And so, we did a takeaway and ate by the roadside

Of Spanish and other new things this year

2011-01-30T23:16:00.005+05:30

It’s ridiculous how excited I felt to be enrolling for Spanish classes last week. I haven’t felt so enthusiastic about something like this a long time. I was worried if I would go through with it – considering, it is 3 hours on Saturday and 3 hours on Sunday early morn. But the moment I entered the school, I had a good feeling. One of my classmates candidly confessed that she needed to “do something more with her life” other than work et al, and there was a moment of relief and I almost broke out laughing, thinking that was exactly what was running through my head.

So this year is all about reclaiming my life (oh well, yes Getting A Life!). To put myself out there, try new things and meet (new) people! It’s not going to be easy – even as I resolve to do all this, I have been doing 14 hour work days and have been on a race against time which leaves me aching for an overdose of sleep– and it is still January! But, I persist! (And made it to my early morning Sunday class). So wish me luck.

Some Spanish and un-spanish thoughts...
1. It seems my name will never be the same again in Europe - Nee-ra-ha (Spanish) or Nee-ra-ya (German) - is only slightly better than my classmate’s Poo-ha!
2. I feel cheated of one Spanish speaking country cos I found Portugese is what is common in Brazil! (No, I didn’t Know).
3. Siente mi fuego – is the phrase I love. It means ‘feel my fire’ (after translating R Kelly’s Burn it up, and not at all sure of the grammar). Also love, Quedate conmigo – ‘stay with me’ (Enrique’s Bailamos). Bailamos is dance, Baila la calle is dancing in the streets...
4. I was the only one to fantasize about my profession – I was a bailarina for a few moments when introducing myself.

Saying some goodbyes... a girls road trip to Sula

2011-01-16T21:24:00.017+05:30

I was wondering, just for a moment, if I should make a blogging resolution this year... but sometimes you just know a lost cause, even without trying. As you can see, its 3 weeks since new years and I am still on my ‘bye 2010, hola 2011’ post!!! Anyways, 2010 had some surprises in terms of trips – including 5 days to NY , some 5 weeks in vacation (with quite a good number of holidays still in stock, not to worry!)...

Not all of my trips and all that I’ve wanted to write about have made it to this blog in the last couple of years- but at least, not for the lack of travel and I am happy for that. So here is hoping for more travel, at least some changes, and hopefully more blogging in 2011!!!

* * *

A bottle of Sula

2010 was a year of change... not so much for me, but many of my friends, what with people moving to other countries, people going off to study, people changing their jobs yes, I am still here, 4 years on, doing exactly the same thing, in the same city!!!). So when R (my closest friend from work ) was leaving Mumbai to study, we all decided an all-girls trip was in order and we chose Sula. We had a car, hired a driver (yes, we didn’t want the responsibility of driving) and the trip was on. Surprise, surprise, it was also the last trip with another one of us, P, quitting a few months later on.

My last trip to Sula was on a hot, dry day in February. This time it was a rainy, rainy July day and the landscape had slipped into its monsoon wear in lush greens. Sula has made several additions to its property since the last time was here – such as a couple of restaurant including my favourite Little Italy (the previous time we had to make do with pineapple-and-cheese starters although we were starving) – so now, you can have a nice heavy lunch, feel lazy and drowsy, hit the tasting room and just relax-and-be as you watch the evening slip into night. However, I wonder if it was the monsoon season (which spurs so many Bombayites to make a day of it in the Ghats) because the tasting room was quite crowded and bustling. I missed being the only group and having the balcony all to ourselves!

Someone else who managed to be having a relaxing, deep in thought moment out at the tasting room !

There are many other wine tasting options beyond Sula – our search revealed Tiger, and one Chateau d’Ori. So you can actually make a good weekend hitting 2 or 3 off these. One thing I was disappointed was with the lack of stay options – if you are on a wine trail, you WANT to stay in some LOVELY RUMBLING FARMHOUSE on the property (and No, I hadn’t been to Italy by then!). There is a Tiger resort (lukewarm reviews). Sula has a gorgeous looking villa, but you need a good group size. The other option is to stay in main-town Nashik, which is what we did at The Gateway at %K per night.

Some wine tasting options here. And Sula Wines here.

The crowd bustling on the balcony

A view of the vineyards

Some randomn Konkan moments

2010-12-31T15:49:00.008+05:30

I love beach vacations. Mostly because I have grown lazy I think.

* * *

In Maharashtra, if you trip and fall, you could find yourself at a fort. Sitting on the waters and jutting into the sea, the fortress walls of Sindhudurg make for a lovely walk. Reaching the edge facing the sea is the best, offering views of the boats on the sea and long coconut groves along the coast.

Sindhudurg fort

The view through a rifle point
* * *

There is something soulful about sunsets. Doesn’t matter if it’s behind buildings or setting into the sea – it somehow never fails to calm. We were cheated of the latter with the sun disappearing into some clouds, but I didn’t mind.

Sunset at Malvan
* * *

An evening in Deobagh

2010-12-30T08:50:00.006+05:30

At around five, when N (the younger N) and I headed out for a walk, the previously deserted beach (but for the odd dog), was starting to bustle. The boats were back after a day in the sea. Some fishermen were drawing their nets out from the sea and laying them to dry. Others had laid out their catch from the day and were sorting through it. Some women were waiting with their baskets – probably for the market for the next day? Two eagles were also bidding their time, circling overhead and repeatedly swooping low in a kind of duet for a chance to flick a fish or 2 from the piles. A few local children were playing on the beach, chasing a hoop with a stick. There was the odd tourist family as well.

As the sun turned pink, the spoils of the day were divided, and the crowd separated slowly… I expected them to have all retired to their homes but was surprised to see several boats making their way into the sea once again. A second fishing expedition? Possibly. Much later in the night, I could see lights from the boats twinkling from the dark depths in an otherwise starlit night.

It was just another day on Deobagh

The Deobagh beach

Fishermen pulling out the nets

Laying it out to dry

The impromptu fish market on the beach

Women waiting for their share

Some kids on the beach

Bring 'em home

A lone one out at sea

Discovering Bernini's

2010-11-10T10:56:00.000+05:30

I went to Rome, and I discovered Bernini’s.

Walking into Piazza Navona, the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi or the fountain of the four rivers is the most central piece of the square. Four powerful men, sculpted in a circle representing and celebrating the worlds’ four great rivers of those time – Ganges, Nile, Danube and Plate – and a an obelisk right in the center. Standing beneath the fountain – I was amazed by the gigantic proportions... (everything in Rome is so gigantic) and impressed by its magnificence. Needless to say, the concept of a dedication to 4 rivers was a beautiful one.

Piazza Navona at night

The next time I came up close with a Bernini sculpture was in the Villa Borghese in Rome. Pluto, is holding or rather carrying Persephone, like he doesn’t want to let her go. His hand is circled around her and holding her above, catching her in her hip and thigh, and denting her soft, smooth flesh as his fingers press into her. The force in holding her is etched in his stance, in his every taut muscle. I was stumped. Persephone is pushing away from him - I just couldn’t understand why! Her toes are delicately curled, to show her distraught it seemed. Even the swing of her hair, the tendrils of his beard capture the struggle. The intenseness, and the power of the moment so beautifully captured in an inanimate sculpture.

I couldn’t look away.

Ratto di Proserpina. This image is taken from http://www.storiadellarte.com

The sculpture is Ratto di Proserpina or Rape of Persephone, based on the story of her abduction. (I have a strong dislike of the word, and am happy that may be the word wasn’t intended in its crudest). Wiki says(according to one of the legends), she was picking flowers with other nymphs when Hades aka Pluto abducted her. Although she was later returned, she was tricked into eating a few pomegranate seed and therefore is tied to the Underworld. So she returns every year in winter to Hades and the Underworld; during which time her mother doesn’t allow crops to prosper until Persephone returns to her.

Bernini was 23 when he produced this masterpiece. And I was in love with it.

There is so much Art in Italy that it can overwhelm you. As an uninitiated person to art, I didn’t expect to find something that would thrill me this much. Bernini’s work is all over Rome. You can’t miss the imposing double colonnade in the Vatican City. You are likely to run across the cute (but also forlorn, I thought) Elephant in the vicinity of the Pantheon. If you like these Bernini’s, I would definitely recommend a stop at Villa Borghese to see Ratto di Proserpina and the equally impressive Apollo and Daphne.

This was a guest blog post and can also be found here.

A guest post...

2010-11-07T11:12:00.002+05:30

Hey all, a guest post of mine has come up over here.

Do hop over and take a look. Thanks!

Stop and Stare: Atop Shanti Stupa

2010-10-28T14:59:00.001+05:30

And then there are those places – really, moments – where you want to just be. You don’t go seeking, you can’t plan for them, but they do happen, creeping upon you unaware. Across the sidewalk as you watch life passing by. Or, in the beach, watching the waves. Moments where you lose a sense of time. You shrug your shoulders and sigh, just content to be right there. With no place else to be.

It was a tiring walk up to the Shanti Stupa. Once on top, we played the fool, clicking photos. There were people sitting around the terrace - catching up with friends, exchanging travel tips, and some just observing. We soon joined the group and sank into our own "silent" zones. Interrupted only by an odd comment here and there. Somewhere in between, I blanked out. Not sure if it was sleep, but the next thing I was conscious of was the cold creeping up. We then made our move!

Relaxing at Shanti Stupa

Christmas break, remembering Rann!

2010-10-24T11:26:00.010+05:30

Christmas break is around the corner, and I’ve finally convinced my sis to take a few days off from work. Yeay!

Thinking of Christmas reminds me of the Rann of Kutch trip last year.

I can still remember the December chill in the air, even as the sun burned down on us. The bright colours of the women’s Sarees and Ghagras (a long skirt and blouse teemed with a shawl) contrasting with their heavy jewellery. Men in white dhotis and shoes. Sleepy, sleepy village towns with old traditional havellis, but all in disrepair. A shepherd with his sheep blocking our jeep. Camel’s pulling carts with people and loads. A fat fati in the middle of nowehere. I couldn’t help but be reminded of my four years in another desert state – the landscape, people, the dryness, the heat and chill, all had a familiarity of yesterday.

I had always meant to post Devjibhai’s details (we stayed at his camp), and also some more photos. Meanwhile, I am looking forward to going someplace with my sis this time!

How to get there? There are several points of entry into the Rann of Kutch. Through bhuj and Gandhidham, you can enter the Greater Rann, and through Dhrangadhra or Zainabad, you can enter Little Rann. We went to Dhrangadhra. From Mumbai, we took a sleeper bus to Ahmedabad. From here, you can take both buses and vans to Dhrangadhra. From Dhrangadra, there was a jeep drive to the camp.

Where did we stay? Devjibhai Damecha runs a camp here and offers both huts and tents for accommodation. He is a nature photographer, environmentalist and birder. We found him very helpful – despite the lateness of our request, he was able to accommodate us. The safari’s were also well organized. In the evening, he even offered us a short ride to catch the sunset.

Devji's website is here.
Other options include: Desert coursers, and the Rann riders. Best way is to shortlist among these and call them for info!

How many days? We spent about 2 and half days. Reserving a day for the safari is good, but we were on a much slower pace, with nowhere else to be.

In a crowded van, chugging towards ...

Road blocked!

Mr. Shepherd

A beautiful sunset

Our hut or Kbooba

Cute dog in the camp

The moment when it started

2010-10-08T00:19:00.014+05:30

We were back from an unexciting day at Skofja Loka (a nearby sleepy village), and making it to some of the landmarks for last photos. Eventually we found our way back to Presern’s square (the most important, central square in Ljubljana).

Six o clock at Preseren is bustling. After a cloudy day, the sun was finally out, warming us all up. People walking past or cycling by, some sipping their coffee, tourists just hanging around at the foot of the statue, parents with strollers, shoppers... A street musician was playing and a small crowd was gathering. And then he struck the chords for ‘My girl’.

Preseren square in the evening

We had had a bit of grey weather in the first few days. And then, I had gotten to know that an exam I had given hadn’t gone for the best. Funny how such a small thing can come snowballing and make you see things in extreme gloom.

And then as the song began, it felt like – so what? Here I was in one of the prettiest, liveliest squares, - one of the most ‘realest’ squares filled with people who actually lived, and worked and belonged to Ljubljana. I imagine I would have been doing exactly this on any other evening if I was living in the city - walking by the square, stopping to see the river, catch a glimpse of the evening sun and soaking in the life in general. The sun was warming me to the core. I had a slight buzz from the bookshop I had dropped into, and the couple of books I had picked up. And then there was the song calling to me. I think that was the moment when I felt, yes I am here, here now. The moment when it felt like the trip was beginning to take off.

The triple bridge

Preseren’s square is not the most remarkable or even bigger squares in Europe. But what is nice is that it is a part of the daily life of Ljubljana rather than just being on the tourist trail. We saw a few girls with H&M bags and decided to ask them where the store was. They laughed, “Oh you caught us. Don’t worry we’ve left something for you”. The square is along the river Ljubljana’s banks, with landmarks like the Franciscan church, Triple bridge (Tromostovje). Preseren is a national poet who wrote the Slovenian anthem and his statue stands tall in the square. Story goes, he is looking across the square at the building of his lady love.

Preseren and his Muse

Us just hanging out

Later that evening, after some shopping at H&M, we stopped by a cafe offering apperitivos - it means drinks, but typically many cafe’s offer a filling but free plate of side eats. We had been looking for these bars/restaurants in Venice, but found these first in Ljubljana. Our first day in Ljubljana had started off in Preseren Square – where our walking tour began. On our last, we left with a glorious final image of the square blazing in lights at night.

Night lights

Gadget attack!!!

2010-09-27T00:21:00.004+05:30

I wasted a good 8 hours worth of blogging transit time today from Manila all because 1) I didn't have the right converter for my India plug points and 2) my laptop battery drains battery faster than the steam in a cup of coffee....

Agree, issue#1 is because of poor planning - so in the Singapore airport, I decide I am going to buy the WORLD CONVERTER ... which converts any kind of plugpoint to any kind of point... and guess which ones it doesnt support? The India 3 pins. We account for 1/6th of the world population - how can a world coverter not support my laptop power point??? Come on!!!

And now I have another useless converter, in addition to 4 chargers - for my phone, my laptop, my camera and my blackberry...And now, I will still go find another world charger, a world which includes India.

And just today I was just thinking how heavy my laptop was and whether I should get a net book... then I think of all accomapniments that may follow, the trouble of keeping both the laptop and netbook charged and backed up and the inevitable hours of delibaration before every trip - should i take the laptop or the net book or any one at all... I am dizzy

How many gadgets can we handle???

I am drowining...

ps: Just all my chargers took so much of luggage space :( :(

All roads lead to Italy

2010-08-13T20:17:00.003+05:30

... or so it seems! Every time I mentioned to someone that I was planning a vacation to Italy, either they were also planning or knew someone who was going there. :) Well, my road is now taking me to Italy, and taking me there quite soon - and I can't wait!

It's been a packed last few weeks - goodbyes to old friends (an end which seemed to arrive even before it started it seems), a girls weekend to sula, planning (and going mad in the process) of the Italy itinerary, wading through one of the busiest cycle of work, and all this amidst different personal crises. However, now that I am here, the crazy dash to the finish line seems good!

Anyway, goodbye for now and see you on the other side!

Finding friends in Bratislava

2010-07-04T17:51:00.013+05:30

We were all nicely settled in the couches the living room – there was K & R, our hosts and my friend R and me. We had just finished polishing K’s homemade cake and were enjoying a night cap after our day in Bratislava.

We discussed a lot of things that night – the different places we had traveled to, our jobs, our lives; K had been a part of an international agency and had some insight into caste system and its issues in India as well as female infanticide. She has never been to India, but wanted to hear more about it. (And if I may say so, explaining India is so difficult!) They told us a bit about the velvet divorce (the separation of Czech and Slovakia), R’s grudge that lonely planet still puts Slovakia after Czech; their pride in making into Euro (before Prague), even though the timing was a bit off with the crisis.

They were very surprised at our English; We were surprised how European middle class families can so easily travel abroad. Then followed weightier topics of religion - both Czech and Slovak are dominantly atheists (after years under the communist influence). We shared some conspiracy theories– though at some point it did cross our minds that the lateness of the hour, and the languidness of mind and body was not ideal for such a heavy topic!

Outside R's gallery in Old Town

We were "Couchsurfing" with K & R and that is how we came to stay with them. In other words, they offered their hospitality and their home for an opportunity to meet different travelers like us. Over coffee, R helped us find our way, pointed out key places. We may not have found the Blue Church or the fantastic pizza place – Pizza Mizza - on our own. Staying in one of the city's neighbourhoods also helped us see a bit of the non-regular Bratislava.

K&R's neighbourhood

This was my first and was a pretty nice experience with couchsurfing. Obviously, you should definitely feel comfortable about this, but it does seem to be a nice way to meet people and other travelers. If this has piqued your interest, Couchsurfing.com and Hospitality.org are 2 sites that come to mind, that help facilitate this exchange.

Dos & Don'ts
1. Be comfortable with the idea– this to me seems most important. A lot of my friends aren’t. On the other hand, I’ve heard some very positive stories, and that was encouraging. So we decided to give it a go, since it was also 2 of us.

2. Couchsurfing is not just about finding a place to stay. You could use it to meet people for a coffee in a new city or find company for a museum visit, which could be a more comfortable starting point. Many cities have regular CS meets on weekends and that would be a great inclusion to your itinerary. I regret not making it to the Saturday Beer garden meet up in Prague.

3. Be comfortable with your hosts – First thing would be to see if your and the hosts requirements match. Time restrictions (you may not have 24/7 access to the flat), smoking/non smoking, do you have room or just a couch in the living room etc. We spent quite a bit of time exchanging emails with K & R where they sounded very enthusiastic and also helpful and we were so glad they could host us.

4. CS has an option where by a member can choose to be verified for a fee, and so adding authenticity. But not all members get it done for their profile (I am not). Also, members leave references for each other – that could help you know your host a bit better (though I have never seen a negative reference, I have to say!). CS is an open community (anyone can join), so no harm in being careful!

5. And lastly, being sensitive to what the host expects out of you and making sure you have time for that.

Bratislava's blue church

Do Up My House 2 - a cane obsession

2010-06-16T08:09:00.008+05:30

Cane furniture is an obsession. Almost. I think they can be very pretty, and elegant – without crowding the room and most importantly, they are cheaper than traditional wood furniture

In Mumbai, I began my search 3 years back. Many evenings, I would just take an auto, ask to be taken me to a near-by locality and then start of enquiring around those areas. After months of effort, I am happy to say, there is no cane furniture available in Powai, Vikhroli, Bhandup, Ghatkopar (all neighbourhoods close to where I stay). In another attempt, I found a shop in a locality farther away and paid him an advance. 3 or 4 weeks later, the furniture guy tells me that he is unable to deliver and that I should come back and get my advance. The auto fare up and down would have been expensive than the money I would have recovered!!!

Cane shopping can get quite interesting and also frustrating – just as shopping for anything else in teeny weeny local market shops in Indian can be. You won’t find cane in the regular furniture shops. You may find them in high priced “ethnic” or “Indian” specialty stores – and obviously, ”cheap” is not the selling point. Most often than not, you have to go poking around very small one-room shops. Or sometimes, they are displayed outside the shacks which line Mumbai’s roads by the million.

Firstly, there is nothing in the shop itself that will convince you are in the right place – you are there out of blind faith or on recommendation. Then there is the process of customization – better not to, I think . The price haggling is inevitable – although either I am losing my touch, or may be bargaining really doesn’t get you much these days in Mumbai. And then the constant follow-up on delivery. But, hey, this is a different kind of fun, and the pretty piece that may soon adorn your living room is of will be worth it.

So this time, when I needed a few pieces to fill my house, guess what I thought of??? Cane again. I told myself I was on a fool’s errand. But, 3 times proved lucky.... and now I have what I’d like to think is a cute book shelf, and 2 lovely chairs and a coffee table – I am most thankful for the chairs, as I spent most evenings during my one week break sitting on the balcony with a cup of tea and watching the sun go down in splendid colours.

My own reading nook

Travel secrets - now an eBook!

2010-05-22T08:49:00.009+05:30

Remember this post? It was a Tripbase tag asking bloggers to share their travel secrets. Well, Tripbase has decided to take it to the next level after they recieved an enthusiastic response. These tips/secrets have been collated to create a downloadable eBook. Moreover, for every person who downloads an e-book, Tripbase will make a $1 donation to Charity:Water.

The Mission
1) To provide funds to build freshwater wells and clean drinking water to people in developing nations.
2) To raise awareness about this fantastic cause, encourage hundreds more people to donate and to make a real difference on the ground.

And all you need to do is download these books for free. So, please go ahead and take a look at these e-books! And as a personal favor, don't forget to specifically look up As I See It featured on the Worldwide Travel eBook and Worldwide Beaches eBook.

Personally, I am kicked - feels good to see my name against something other than my research reports! :) :) :)

10 million fireflies lighting up the world...

2010-05-09T12:34:00.005+05:30

You would not believe your eyes
If ten million fireflies
Lit up the world as I fell asleep
Because they'd fill the open air
And leave teardrops everywhere
You'd think me rude but I'd just stand and stare
- Owl City

This song has gotten under my skin. Although I am sure the writer intended a more profound association for his lyrics, it is bringing back memories of all those nights when I couldn’t stop admiring the beautiful inky midnight blue spread above filled with dancing fireflies. It feels like I am uncorking a jar of glorious nights, stumbled into unknowingly and collected little by little over the years.

Nights which amazed me – I thought I have never seen it this beautiful; nights which made me wistful, sometimes poetically lonely; nights, the beauty of which, brought pure joy and happiness and you wanted to sing out loud; and then nights where there couldn’t have been a more heady combination than that of stars and silence .

Most of all, nights that make you believe that nights like these is purpose enough for life. Now, if only I could remember that...

Language trouble

2010-04-24T23:42:00.000+05:30

It was a hot and sweltering day as I landed in Chennai, after a long break of 4 months since my last visit. I was taking in every small sign – the chattering in Tamizh, signboards, the Saravana Bhawan, movie posters – all making me feel home again. I was almost sporting a silly smile as I floated into the taxi and told the driver ‘Thoraipakkam poganum’ (I have to go to Thoraipakkam in tamizh). Maybe he didn’t hear me, but minutes later he turned around and asked ‘Kahan jaana hai?”(Where to? in Hindi). I snapped out of my reverie - ‘had I heard that right?’ I had flown down all the way to a certified no-Hindi-land and the cabbie addresses me in the language that they refuse to acknowledge? Was the sun rising in the west these days?

I tried again – repeated where I needed to get to and asked him which route he planned to take. He didn’t respond for a bit; and then seemingly disappointed at an opportunity lost to hone his Hindi skills (I presume, or maybe he was disappointed that I was just a boring local and not an exotic tourist) answered me in Tamil. Still, a few minutes later he did try again - ‘Very very hot no today???”. I couldn’t but help smile.

Are the winds of change sweeping through the city after all?

Little Prague - Cesky Krumlov

2010-04-16T11:02:00.000+05:30

Cesky Krumlov is mostly a day trip for visitors to Prague. But, stories of Bohemian fairytale castles, and the idea of a laid back halt, possible a day or 2 of cycling made this a longer stop for us. Cesky Krumlov is a part of the greenways project – a project to create and maintain trails between Southern Bohemia and Vienna for hikers and cyclists to explore the region. I was fascinated and I would have loved to spend a week or so, moving between towns and checking out a few castles. In the end, we decided to base in Cesky and do day trips.

Town of Cesky Krumlov

We hadn’t made any specific plans for our activities here and sadly, the tourist info center wasn’t the most helpful on trails around the place. But then we ran into an outfitter shop and Yana here was most helpful. We bonded over travel stories and she selected a wonderful trail for us for cycling. Canoeing on the second day was an experience too – R is terrified of water and in the first half hour we struggled to navigate on the river. And not to mention R’s hysterics at one juncture where we thought the canoe may topple and she thought she may drown. The depth of the river would have come up to our torso only – something we found out later. All in all a great day!

A sculptor at work on the streets

The best times to be in Cesky is in the early mornings, where you can get a quiet breakfast watching the castle spires, as you see the small town stir to life. And then after 5, when you can walk through the fairy tale like alleys, admire the endless but tastefully done tourist knick knack shops (they are clichéd but still have a lure to them) and have some of our best dinners in some really classy restaurants by the river. In the end, we never did properly see the Cesky castle.

Of the many shop fronts

Ideas for inspiration
Cold war legacy: peaceful hiking in Bohemia
Bohemia: where fairytales may be true

Where we stayed in Cesky – Town Theatre in Cesky Krumlov
There is a small pension in the attic of the Town Theatre- the place was very comfortable, right at the start of the town. The lady here however doesn’t speak English and reservations have to be done through the tourist information center. In the evenings, we saw some performances happening in the theatre, something you could pencil in. Despite being a smaller town, room rates were not very different from Prague.

Sports outfitters- I can’t recollect their name, but run by Jana and Peter, they are by the bridge in Cesky. Very helpful, if not the cheapest.

In the heart of Bohemia

2010-04-04T10:56:00.008+05:30

I the last couple of weeks, every time I have a breather at work, I find my mind wandering to my past vacations, and most often than not the couple of days we spent in Cesky Krumlov. I still remember this one moment – R and I were sitting under a bush after an excruciating stretch of uphill cycling, which we mostly walked, catching our breathe. We could feel the heat beating down steadily, radiating in the air, lulling the moment into silence, creating a buzz in our heads –beads of sweat rolling down our faces and a bottle of water, our respite. Our cycles carelessly lay on the ground. In front of us were slopes of green grass, undulating hills, houses here and there and distant forests forming the horizon.

And then it hit us – we are actually sitting in a random spot – a place we may not been able to spot on the map later, between 2 no-name villages in the heart of Czech Republic. We are actually there- no; we are actually here in Czech Republic. In Boehmia. And yes, Bohemia is a real place. It was real, yet surreal.

Gearing for the day

Our lunch stop on our cycling trail and an impromptu dip in the lake!

Ruins of Divci Kamen - an abandoned castle

The landscape

On the Vlatava - from Cesky to Zlata Koruna

When a work trip starts to kill

2010-03-06T12:37:00.008+05:30

‘You no bored?’ she laughs as she keys in my order for 1 veggie delight. I try to laugh away telling her I am vegetarian- although, I am sure she was referring to the fact that I’ve nearly been having subs for dinner and lunch every day for the last 2-odd weeks. I have a sneaking suspicion that the 2 women at Toast Box have been sniggering for the exact same reason. Every day it has been the same order – coffee, thick toast, to go.

Ah yes. That is how I was also speaking at shops and restaurants. Why need connectors like ‘and’,‘is’ when you can convey the meaning with just the important words. It is funny how you unconsciously changes your accent in a new place to be better understood. Sometimes, you change to broken English too. Like, after one month of eating at Denny’s in the US, I was all into thannnk you’s from my nose.

3 weeks in Singapore once again – but buried in work, and smothered in stress this time. I don’t think I have found myself in as much stress before. The second Sunday in office, I found myself crying in the ladies room - I was having my first panic attack imagining a life full of sundays at work. One part of my brain said, I should be working and that way I'll get the hell out faster. But the other part just refused to contemplate the thought of work. In the end I just left and slept through the panic.

I had no energy to call up friends. No energy for a meal in a restaurant. And yes, I came to the point I was too tired to shop! That, is the bottom of bottoms I hit. And so, I think I have finally arrived at that point where work trips may no longer be thought of as fun and a welcome change!

Highlights of the trip – yes, there were some at least –

In my first week, we had a team party held on a yacht in Sentosa. The weather was great, wine was flowing and we were after all in a place reserved for the rich and beautiful. Although, like any office party, I - the lowly associate – hardly had much to say compared with the high-flying and fabulous experiences of the big guns. So it was more an evening of smiles and head nodding, but fun anyway.

A day trip to Manila – a mix up of bit of the chaos of India, a bit of Mexico with old tin tiled houses and the Spanish names, and bit of posh tall rise buildings of Singapore and Hong Kong. I tried some ‘orginal’ Philippines food – a dish of glass noodles – and I have to say I don’t care for it! One day was hardly enough to understand the city, but the hope is for another trip. Hopefully to explore the country’s beaches and mountains away from Manila. And hopefully, when there are no typhoons.

And, there was fantastic book sale close to work and I found some very interesting travel titles – I had been considering picking up one of them at borders for 30 dollars, and I ended up getting it for 6 dollars in the sale. Also, a book on the next country on my list... it will be revealed when it happens!

On my last day, I woke up at 11 at night, made a dash for ‘Spices of India’ in hotel Rendezvous. Yes, they were still serving dinner, and the guy actually remembered me! One order of half portion peas pilaf, mushroom curry and raita please.

PS: Anyways, I am back after a long time. The hope is to get back to my routine of visiting blogs, travel planning and hopefully blogging.

My very own Do Up My House story

2010-01-03T18:41:00.008+05:30

This story has a happy ending. Oh well, a happy beginning too. :)

My new place.

I was almost despairing when one of the places that I had somewhat liked (didn’t like the owner, I admit) and was in the process of finalizing fell through. Despairing also because by then, I knew the design, type, pros and cons of flats in every building in the area and hadn’t found anything that would suit. Making a big move like moving out alone, you don’t want to settle for anything less than a house that screams ‘Come and Get Me’!!!

I was indulging in honest I Hate the World and Why do I Always Get the Raw End of the Deal, depression and self-pity, when this place came up. I was sure it wouldn’t fit in my budget, but what the hell, it would expand my real estate knowledge and so I went to take a look at it. It was an apartment on the 13th floor, with space like a football field (well, for a one bedroom place anyway!), french windows on all rooms and BALCONIES!!! What clinched the deal was that the balconies and windows DID NOT overlook another flat. What more could one ask for in Bombay??? And yes, it does help to be living in a banished suburb.

The living room

I moved in a few weeks back and I have to say it’s been great. Somewhere along the way, I realized I was in the middle of my Do Up Your House story. He He, nothing extravagant like restoring a villa in Tuscany or in Morocco. But MY scaled down version of it. Matching curtains and cushion covers and drapes, getting the right TV table, lamp shades – such complex decisions and such fun!

Distant buildings that light up at night

From a more day to day standpoint, I like that I have become more disciplined. True, I could have been that in my old place, but at some point I had lost the will to care. Now I have no choice but to care and make time for more mundane stuff like running errands, organizing the house, or to get an odd job fixed. OK, that doesn’t sound fun, but trust me, it is.

Sometimes, I almost feel like The Heroine in the Book of My Life, like there is a narration which makes the most banal of activities very soulful and insightful - ‘It was a lazy Saturday morning and she woke up to the sun streaming from behind tall far away high rises through her window. The image of a hotcup of chai drew her out and she walked to the balcony, feeling the cold early morning chill as she sipped a cup, lost in her thoughts...”. He He, I’ll stop here!!!

Anyway, there is no single verdict on living alone. But it’s an experience worth trying!My only tip, get a place u see yourself in. This was a big step for me last year, and I am more than thankful it came together. I may tired of living alone soon enough, but until then...

The view from my bedroom!

The view I wake up to

The horizon, dry cracked earth and us - Rann of Kutch

2009-12-30T21:00:00.010+05:30

We stared into the vast expanse of land in front of our eyes. Dry, cracked - cracked as if an earthquake tremor had left its marks behind, spreading out as far as we could see, meeting the blue and slightly pink skies at the very end. The landscape at the start was broken by a few shrubs here and there, and then by the salt pans. At this point, there was nothing else but us, the faint outline of a faraway hillock and the horizon in front of us. The sun had beaten down upon us strongly through the day, and the air was laden with the dust from the earth. This was Rann of Kutch.

The Rann of Kutch - trying to capture the vastness of it!

Calling it beautiful wouldn’t be right. The Rann doesn’t match the stark and harsh beauty of the deserts of Ladakh or the soft undulating curves that one imagines a picture perfect desert. But there was something about being in this dry, near barren, expansive, and literally ‘no-man’ land.

A friend reminded me of the story, 'Love Across the Salt Desert'. How could i have forgotten the love story set in the heart of this place. The author describes it beautifully... The monsoons had, so to speak, forgotten to land. The Rann lay like a paralysed monster, its back covered with scab and scar-tissue and dried blister-skin. The earth had cracked and it looked as if chunks of it had been baked in a kiln and then embedded in the soil-crust. Then one day the clouds rolled in like wineskins and the lightning crackled and the wineskins burst. Though two years have passed since the drought ended, everyone remembers that it first rained on the day when Fatimah entered the village. This is how she came...

The Rann in perspective

During monsoons, the Rann of Kutch is flooded with water, being at a very low-height to the sea. The Rann becomes accessible only in the drier seasons, and even then may be not entirely. The jeeps that venture inside could easily get stuck, as the dry top level hides beneath it soft and mushy clayey soil layers. There are no well defined roads or trails. Yes, there were jeep tracks from visits before us, but how our driver found his way through and how the other locals find their way to the salt pans was beyond our grasp. The desert is also broken by several salt pans were locals make salt from the ground. Coming back after watching the sunset, I kept asking our driver if he could find his way back.

Getting directions from a local chakkada

The quintessential dirt driving jeef safari picture

Our visit was actually to the part of the desert known as the lesser Rann, which lays a little interior to the area called as the Rann. The Lesser Rann is home to the ‘Wild Ass’ also called Khar (ye ye, I see you laughing, and btw did you know that Jack Ass is also a variety?), the Nilgai Antelope and Chinkara deers. On our safari on the first evening we saw glorious herd of both the wild ass and Nilgai. We didn’t realize how nice our sightings were until the next day, when for quite a long time we saw only loners or pairs. The Rann is also famous for migrating flamingos, visitors from Siberia.

A herd of Nilgai antelopes

A herd of Wild Ass

Cranes taking flight

My 3 travel secrets

2009-12-22T22:53:00.007+05:30

There has been a travel tag going around and I have been tagged by Cate and Neha for it. The tripbase Blog Tag is to share my 3 travel secrets. Here they come!

The Armenian Church, Singapore-
It was a hot day. I was walking around the so called ‘civic district’, using a tripod to take photos of myself, (and yes, to timer pose is funny!). My friend had mentioned a big church in the center of Singapore, and I thought this one was it. It is a white building, and could easily have been a bungalow. The main room was circular broken by long rectangular windows with wooden shutters, revealing the hot day outside. A ceiling fan whirred slowly. A painting of Jesus was the only thing indicating that this indeed was a church. It was a place more for peace, silence and introspection if you will. A place one could contend time in…

Inside the Armenian church

The Armenian church

A secluded beach in Hvar-
Mustacho is a restaurant and a beach along Hvar’s coastline. It is less of a secret really, but is less frequented because it’s farther away from the Hvar town and people (tourists) are too lazy to walk up to this one. We decided to go in search of it on our first evening. The walk to the beach was very beautiful, as the houses thin away leaving behind the trees and natural greenery of the island. The first sight of the restaurant (at night) was a blaze of lights amidst a crescent of dark waters. We were its only dinner guests and it was gorgeous to sit by the open sea, hear the sound of the waves and dig into our food. The walk back was even better, as we stumbled our way through the dark, with nothing but the stars for some light.

The temptation in Hvar is to jump to the famous islands of Bol and Brac. But if you keep your eyes open, you will see smaller signs for not so popular beaches. I can't speak for all of them, but our gamble on one proved to be the best!

Another secluded beach in Hvar as I don't have photos of Mustacho

Lost in the smaller villages of Sikkim
Kewzing in Sikkim is just another small hill town. But go beyond the market area, and you’ll find that some locals have thrown their homes open to travellers to give u a taste of their lives. The homestay in Kewzing was the highlight of our trip to Sikkim a few years back. We went on hikes, sat amidst hidden stupa ruins, watched Mt.Narsingh as we sipped morning tea, ate wholesome healthy meals, sang in front of bon fires.

The house we stayed in, Kewzing

These homestays are a means for these villages to generate income to support themselves, but are still not mainstream tourists stop, making it an ideal off the beaten track stop. There are homestays in the area of Dzongu also in Sikkim.

Please dont forget to see Cate's 3 travel secrets and Neha's 3 travel secrets. Thank you guys for tagging me!

Terezin – still haunted by its past

2009-11-21T12:04:00.011+05:30

The bus rolled to a sudden halt, and we woke up with a start to realize we had arrived. We,and nearly the entire populace in the bus tumbled out sleepily. And there we stood, a bunch of tourists, trying to get our bearings with only the zoom of the receding bus breaking the absolute stillness of the town. We were in Terezin.

The town of Terezin

Terezin has a fortress that was built originally by the Hapsburgs of Austria. The same fortress came in handy once again during Nazi rule, this time to house a Jewish Ghetto. Over time, the original residents of the town were asked to leave to make way for a prison city. The museum today recreates the sad state in which Jews were forced to conduct life. Somehow, they still managed to have some hope during their time here. Terezin was not a death camp like other concentration camps, burdened with stories of torture. But the sadness of years of human spirit that was broken, piece by piece, till none remained, is undeniable.

“A little garden,
Fragrant and full of roses,
The path is narrow,
As a little boy walks along it.
A little boy, a sweet boy,
Like that growing blossom,
When the blossom comes to bloom,
The little boy will be no more”
~ written by a young boy who lived in Terezin

Gravestones

In memory

Terezin today is peaceful and laid back, once you get used to the stillness and state of abandonment. We in fact had one of our best lunches sitting at a roadside cafe in hotel Memorial. We saw people swimming by the river, and bikers in beer joints just outside the fortress. The green memorial sites make for a nice walk, a place to sit and even a picturesque place for a photo. It is easy to banish the image of the town. the way it was. But the words of the prisoners, their hopes, their sadness, still hang around and that still get to you, years later.

Inside the Little Fortress used to jail prisoners of war

PS: I found these very moving accounts...
To holocaust deniers, come to Buchenwald
To those who never got a chance to die where they were supposed to

Alone or not alone? That is the question

2009-10-31T14:20:00.007+05:30

Ok. I have to take a diversion from my not-going-anywhere Europe travelogues to turn to more pressing problem.

I have to move. My flatmate is being transferred (to London btw, and yes lucky her!) and I have to find a new place. I have for some time now been wanting to change apartments – we have put up with the same place, same cranky owner, same maid, same area for too long and a change is warranted. So this was an opportunity and I couldn’t chicken out on laziness.

The question now was – should I find a place all by myself? So I decided to do a survey and this was what I found out –

1. It would be way too lonely in the evenings and weekends. The evenings drag too long with no one to talk to.
This probably was not meant for people who work 14 hours a day, have dinner with a TV, and could go days without meeting their flatmate who also works 14 hours, if not more.

2. One friend had had a great time staying alone and in fact it had been his dream for a while. I was hoping for inspiration. He says, “It was nice. But would be nicer with a fun flatmate”.
OK! Needed one fun flat mate.

3. Now for the more serious feedback – for most women, when they were staying alone they had a boyfriend frequently visiting them. Sometimes it was also their parents, but mostly the boy friend.
So, it’s not really the same as living alone. It was just a matter of technicality.

4. My sister came out right and said ‘isn’t that a little weird?’
Ok. I can see where she is coming from. Still in her 4th year of college, she is probably planning house sharing plans in Bangalore (where she will take her job) and it probably didn’t occur to her that there will be a point when close friends are not so close by (location wise) any more.

But I thought that for other reasons. Are we judgemental of people, women in particular claiming to be ok of being alone?

But now that I think about it, several of my friends have lived alone at different points in time. When my flatmate in Hyderabad – the girl who couldn’t have eat lunch alone in an office cafeteria – took a place for herself, it was radical. And trust me,she lived it up. Another friend who took a place for herself was kicked about doing the place up and loved having a place of her own. For one friend, a place for herself was the highest kind of "evolution", if you can put it that way (well, except for her fear of staying alone). Another said that it would have been the natural choice.

So, maybe it could be liberating. Like the woman who buys flowers for herself and I’ve already done that once.

Maybe it’s just about being ok in your skin kind of thing. Believe that it’s no big deal ; and it really isn’t.

5. One said, ‘I was too young to be alone’.
How sweet. Is it an age thing? Do we become more ok with this sort of thing after an age? Or could this be an unavoidable option for some of us in the future? This scares me... I don’t think I want to accelerate this eventuality any further than I have to.

So, here I am going through all this emotional and psychological upheaval about moving alone. And I forgot (how could I?) – it always comes back to the basic things. No no – its not facing my fear and all that blah. I’m talking money and exorbitant rents in Mumbai. All this drama and struggle before sorting out the most important question – will I be able to afford it?

Old Towns of Eastern Europe

2009-10-15T22:33:00.008+05:30

“Have you guys seen the Old Town Square yet? Beautiful isn’t it...”, he said. And with a mischievous grin, he smoothly adds, “ Almost like Times Square”. Yeah, right!

That was the American tourist we ran into in Petrin. Within moments after he had told us he was from New York, we both gushed that we loved New York and Manhattan. And in return, he was taking a dig at us. Still, we didn’t mind. He was cute.

This post is not about him, but about the Old Towns and Town Squares of Prague and of Eastern Europe. Small, neat, historic and at the same time colourful, the old Town area is almost like a toy city from a different age. Roaming around the Old Town Prague took a little getting used to, it was almost like a set. And you think you haven’t seen anything like it and don’t think you will see anything like it. And then you are in Bratislava and find yourself in another quaint Old Town, an even smaller one if that’s possible, and you fall in love all over again.

Prague Old Town Square

It was not until the last day that we truly discovered and duly got lost in the maze that the Old Town Square of Prague was. Like the quite corner of Ungelt, a small corner just behind the Town Square, which we hadn’t even thought of wandering into. All through our walking tour on the last day, we kept noting several quirky restaurants and cafe’s we wanted to come back to for lunch (especially a particular choco-cafe) – sadly we couldn’t find our way back.

A small bridge in Bratislava Old Town

Bratislava - we didn't expect anything and in fact we didn't plan to do anything but chill by a cafe. But once again, the historic center lured us into her folds. Much much smaller, and slightly less ornate, and still very distinct from Prague! I remember how excited we were to find Bratislava the way we found it!

Sigh. I keep telling myself travelling isn't about compare and contrast. But visiting these smaller Eastern European cities, with their colourful Old Towns served on cobblestones, could just almost spoil you for the biggies.

Oh, and ps, I did have my wits around me to tell him, yeah right. R, of course was nodding her head in agreement.

The dominating church in Bratislava's Old Town

Prague - the city of thousand spires

2009-10-03T14:37:00.007+05:30

How beautifully true. We were standing at a view point, near the entrance to the Prague castle (aka Pražský hrad) and in front of us stretched out the city of Prague. The sky was cloudy, with a light fog blurring distant buildings and the horizon and giving the view a slightly ephemeral quality. There is a clutter of orange-brown rooftops and old buildings along the Vlatava. And from this slightly hazy view of the city, were several spires breaking the nearly flat sky line.

Prague from the castle

Escaping the crowds in the Prague castle and in search of the omni-present McD signs, R and I stumbled upon the quiet streets of Mala Strana. The road was narrow, flanked by tall ornate buildings, with huge wooden gates at intervals like each of them held a palace inside them, and the quintessential lantern like street lights along the walls – in the quietness of the streets, I could almost imagine a world from years ago, and could almost hear the clutter of hooves. It wasn’t until after lunch when our stomachs were satisfied and our minds were rolling, there was an ‘oh!’ moment and we realized we were at Mala Strana.

We found the owner of the green dome that had dominated every view from the Prague castle – St. Nicholas Church. On Nerudova street and in its namesake cafe, R had a coffee-shake and I, tasted my first Czech original Budweiser. We then discovered the road to Petrin (a wooded area with a mini-Eiffel like tower which offers yet another, but still different view of Prague). Another walk beckoned and we followed the call – a long day of walks and views! If there was any city where I’d recommend one to climb towers and tough roads all for the views, it would definitely be Prague!

The dome of St. Nicholas

Call it clichéd. Call it touristy. But I loved walking on the Charles bridge (the bridge across river Vlatava leading from the Old Town to Mala Strana. There is something about a place from where one can observe a beautiful sunset and see palaces in the distant horizon. The bridge is lined with statues on both sides. The most notable one is that of St. John of Nepomuk or the statue with 5 stars (I confess, I just googled his name up). Legend has it that if you rub the base of the statue you will come back to Prague . Or you could also get married. These were the versions provided by our tour guide. The website says this statue brings good luck. Sadly, I never got to rub the statue.

Charles bridge

Eastern Europe 2009 - a journey begins

2009-09-13T17:19:00.011+05:30

I am back, I am back, I am back! And actually not all that excited to be back. It’s been 2 weeks since my 18-day vacation got over- the first week was sleep deprived with a lot of work, the second week has been me battling my cold. And still, even as all these mundane of my life overpower me back to reality, I can still close my eyes and transport myself to the time when I was swimming in the aquamarine seas, or the time we cycled downhill at wind-breaking speeds.

Where do I start? Despite my disgruntled mood at the outset, and a lot of shakeups to our plans, the trip was fabulous. It was quintessential Europe –soaking in the architecture, revelling equally in old, weighty buildings as well as the charming rustic villages, walking around old town squares till our feet hurt, lounging in cafes. But also more!

It’s hard to put in words what I imagined about Eastern Europe. Places like Prague and Croatia definitely had that magical quality about them, and partly because they were lesser trodden. I knew they were “developing” vs being the developed. I had heard that their trains and buses and transport aren’t as good as in the West. I had heard the people can be a little cold. I wasn’t sure if poverty was an issue the way it is in India or not really. All these tit bits don’t give a picture by themselves, but tend to be a downer and make you a bit wary. But don't worry! From the word go, these cities rid you of these distortions.

From the moment we stepped on Prague, from the airport to the metro, all we could think of was this doesnt feel like what Eastern Europe should feel like (That’s also because Czech replaced its age old communist era train system in 2000 after a flood). Croatia was like a resort, and may be off the lot, Bratislava showed a bit of wear.

One of the streets in the old town square, Czech

Yes, some of the things used to describe Eastern Europe is true and I agree, countries like Czech may have come a long way ahead than others. Alright, everyone on the road doesn’t stop to smile at you, but that is likely true of UK too. They don’t have TGV’s, but their trains were still OK and on time!!! I didn’t notice a single homeless person in Prague like you see in New York (and of course India), but our walking tour guide did mention there were druggies who begged for money. And of course, coming from India, really, it seemed almost ridiculous to be apprehensive, and they seem light years ahead in infrastructure.

Street outside my room, Czech

Need you ask? I am telling everyone to go to Czech and Croatia and Eastern Europe, especially before they join the Euro regime :).

And yes, I have so more tales to tell, if you will only listen. Till I can sort all that out in my head, I’ll leave you with some initial glimpses of the places I’ve been to.

Stone alleyway, Croatia

The Euro Trip...

2009-08-14T00:00:00.003+05:30

Ok. I have been waiting to do this post for a long time now. And i’ve pushed it far enough (for the fear of jinxing the trip) just till everything fell into place. Which it almost did – until it fell apart this morning. Hehe - so much for waiting for the perfect moment huh? So no better time like now.

In a few hours, I leave for Prague with my friend (yeaaay!!!) – which is where our official Europe trip starts. I’ve been researching Europe for a while now, and somehow after always finding reasons to push it out, this year I thought I have to make it happen. I was contemplating travelling alone – but I doubt I would have really done that. And so, when my friend also joined in, there was no turning back.

Czech had caught my fancy at a time when it was still offbeat. And though it is definitely mainstream now (I personally have heard of quite a few people who have been there this year), it hasn’t lost its sheen in my eyes. I can’t remember how I zeroed in on Croatia - probably when my other friend said that she finds beaches more exciting that architecture. Vienna was added in because it was on my friends wishlist and Bratislava as a transit point.

So, it came together as Česká republika, Österreich, Slovensko and Hr̀vātskā. (Don't you love the way the names roll off your tongue???)

We were tightly timing our visas and it seemed every possible delay was going to happen to our visas. The schengen which should have been a cake walk, took a few days longer. Every extra day the schengen took, meant lesser days for the Croatian. The Croatian – well, what should have happened on Monday, was magically pushed out by another day and another day. Finally – yesterday we were relieved. The Croatian visa had been stamped. Only, to find today, when we got our passports in hand, that our Croatian visa falls short by 2 days!@#$%!!!!

Our final flight is from Croatia to Mumbai – and so now we have to rework that. Most of all – of all the places, I’ve been really excited about Croatia and i had almost transported myself to its beaches and it seemed like a fitting end. Now the visa not only cuts our time in Croatia from 6-7 days to just 3 days, but also messes up our last few days.

The entire day, I don’t think i really believed this was happening and expected that magical last-minute-things-fall-into-place-end would be the end. But that isn’t our end and I am a little upset. Still - on the brighter side, I cant wait for tomorrow to start when I will finally land in Prague - (touchwood)!!!

Flocking over Mumbai...

2009-07-09T23:36:00.004+05:30

The endless blue sea, the strong sandstone Gateway balancing itself against the waves, the yatchs beyond, the paved clearing ahead, peddlers here and there, couples holding hands, families laughing, kids running about… and the scene suddenly broken by the flight of a flock of pigeons. This scene is a classic one, undoubtedly evoking Mumbai to people’s mind.

The white one among the black sheep

I don’t think these pigeons have consciously ever occupied my thought – till Mumbai. In Mumbai, they gain a significance other than the one above. Imagine this…

Once again, I am standing in the service area behind my bathroom looking at the mess the blasted pigeons had created. There is still one pigeon fluttering about in panic, trying to escape out of a window that had been wired precisely for NOT allowing pigeons in. And once again I would have to call the apartment help to take the bird out. Yes, unimaginable, but they keep losing their way within my service area and can’t seem to recognize that just because they see the open world outside, they still cannot fly out of a window that has been wired. Comic really, if u are in the mood for it. And once again I am swearing, “stupid bird”! This is a scene that plays over and over again in my flat in Bombay.

To keep the pigeons out, I wired the windows. They didn’t get the message started coming in through the vent in the roof meant for pipes. Then they began to build nests. I kept removing them, and they kept rebuilding them. Then they laid eggs, which is a stupid move considering I am likely to throw them out in anger. But by that point I’d given up. So now the blasted pigeons have their very private own area in my apartment. And yes, they are my constant company with their never ending guttural ‘ow ow’ cries!

So, when I landed up at the gateway for a photog enthusiast meet, I was surprised to find myself shooting the pigeons more than anything else. Or rather the scene around the pigeons. There are peddlers around the Gateway who sell channa (or some such) so people can have fun feeding the pigeons. It was amazing to see the joy on the kids faces as they tried to catch the attention of these birds (which by the way are spoilt for attention!) Personal irks aside, the pigeons are here to stay in this city - roosting in every crevice they can find in this concrete jungle or being fed by the endless tourists who land up to see the Gateway!

Father and son trying to feed the birds

Greedy pigs pecking of from people's hands

Excited kids!

Rains...

2009-06-21T23:57:00.003+05:30

The monsoons are here again. Or almost. As I was walking down from my office, I stopped at this spot – almost like a vantage point – where I always like to take in the view of the rest of Hiranandani. I always liked this view, giving me a feel of standing on the outside and looking inside. With the rains, the view was all the more beautiful – the fogginess from the light drizzle almost adding a mystical air to the view. I know- monsoons in Mumbai are not to be looked forward to. But before the torrential downpours, the clothes that wont dry, the room that is flooded, the walls that are damp, the days where you get soaked, but before all that, that is inevitable begins, before the daily wars that we would eventually have to wage, can I just say...

...I love the smell of the damp earth signalling the imminent monsoons (even though there is a lack of damp earth in some places, the rains still seems to be able evoke their earthy smell for concrete!), love the moist breeze which breaks the monotonies of the days, and love the feeling of change around the corner (– who knows what it may bring). The rains have been teasing us for the last couple of weeks – will it or will it not today. But until they do, it’s good to take in the moment. ‘Cos, this too shall pass.

Caught by the rain in the not so distant past, Singapore

A House in Fez

2009-05-17T19:01:00.009+05:30

The shelf was lined with several books of my favourite theme - people buying a house in a new country and the cacophony and confusion that follows. However, it seemed like Tuscany and Provence were the most sought after places. It got me wondering if these authors stumbled upon each other at some point of time. Anyway, amongst a mire of vineyards and valleys, I caught sight of 'A house in Fez' where the author was re-doing a house in Fez, Morocco. My interest was sufficiently piqued.

The theme is well known – Suzanna Clark (author) after visiting Fez just once falls in love. With the place. And so, she and her husband decide to buy a Riad (the Moroccan word for one kind of a bungalow) here. The story is all about the people she meets in the process of restoration. The book was an easy read. I loved Morocco as a setting. The cafe's she discovers, the traditions, the shops she goes looking for – in search of doors, windows and whatever else that goes into making homes. Of course, the quirks of the local people as well. Morocco has now fallen into my travel radar as a result of this book.

However, I did think that her style of writing was somewhat lacking. It wasn't somehow the most interesting narrative from a point of view of judging a written account per se - the words themself and her narration of events or feelings or experiences were somehow not the most evocative account i've read. Nevertheless, a reasonable nice read!

Eat, Pray, Love

2009-05-17T12:53:00.004+05:30

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert was a book I was totally 'in to' - after a long, long time. And for a partly travel book, I read it in 2 sittings straight. So when my friend put a negative review here, I was quite surprised I have to say. And a little disappointed. But that has also spurred me to writing my take on this book which may have otherwise taken months (OK, who am I kidding, I have travel book reviews waiting from 2007), or may have never seen the light of day.

I actually passed by this book many times simply because it’s cover read “… after a bad divorce… rediscover herself…” and I decided, ok another chic lit/woman heavy novel (not that I don't read those books, but I wasn't in the mood). The Italy, India and Indonesia bit was totally lost on me. But after reading a review here, I finally picked up the book.

What I loved about the book – the author opening herself so much about what she went through while travelling to these places. After EPL, I realized that’s what I miss in some of the travel books – the authors shows the different places, but they don't show what it does to them. Of course, not every travel or vacation gets emotionally loaded. But there are sometimes when one travels, seeking for something - peace, happiness, meaning of life. Here the journey of self is as important as the journey to the place. And I think Eat, Pray, Love falls into that category.

Having said that, there are very heavy topics in this book. The author does realize going full emotional overloaded on those topics is likely not palatable and tries to describe it in a funny way. Like, the first time she introduces the topic of god - "What happened was that I started to pray. You know - like, to God".

What you most probably may not like – her journey through India. She comes to India to explore her spiritual side. And I am sure every single person will go – duh!!! The second bit is also that she delves into her own spiritual journey – and this is likely to spook you completely. People are going to be more comfortable reading the most explicit s*xual exploits of another person rather than another person’s spiritual journey. Listening to spiritual experience at some level shows too much of the other person than you care to see. In a way, it closes down the spaces and you need to be ready for it.

So yes, I did get tired of her own spiritual experiences. I am not sure if I should judge the veracity of her experience - but I don't mind giving her the benefit of doubt. Especially since the fact that I was uncomfortable makes me a biased judge. However, I loved her ashram experience, and her simple way of phrasing some of the learnings on god, yoga, the extracts from gita etc. that have been passed from guru to disciple for years now.

As for Indonesia and Italy – it was vacation cum slice of life. Here, she develops routines - the first step to establishing a sense of living versus visiting. There is a touch of the classic ‘girl-meets-boy-and-life-turns-perfect’ ending, but if the author did in fact manage to find this ending that we all dream of, good for her.

Initially, my first thought was to say – if you don’t like too many emotions or are not comfortable with spirituality, this book is not for you. But what I do want to say now is – if you are willing to test new waters, give this one a try!

PS: For a long time now, I have been searching for a good source for travel books. So check out some of the new links I have added to my blog.

Beautiful bougainvilleas

2009-05-13T22:24:00.008+05:30

Beautiful bougainvilleas at the Esplanade park...

... were a refreshing treat even as my legs sought some rest

Striking a Chord With Buddhism

2009-04-19T11:49:00.010+05:30

Visiting a Buddhist temple was hardly on the cards for my Singapore trip. For one, the thought didn't occur even once when I tried to make a list of things I would like to do here. But as it would turn out, I found my self visiting a couple of Buddhist temples, and almost made it to a third.

The courtyard at the entrance of the Tooth relic temple - yes, it was raining again!

Talking about the Buddha tooth relic temple is almost straight from the tourist guide. To be honest, that's how I landed upon it in the first place - I was looking up China Town, and this temple is round the corner, just off Pagoda street and therefore fell into both mine and Uniquely Singapore's China Town 'itinerary'. Having said that, the temple is simply one of the magnificent of Buddhist temples I have seen - in a rich and grand way. It's simple exterior gives no clue of the rich, impressive hall or the eye-dazzling Maitreya inside. I was in awe.

A lady lighting an incense stick in offering

Ironically, I also witnessed one of the most beautiful Buddhist services with people were singing in a choir like fashion here. Despite what seems like a lifetime of monasteries in Sikkim and Ladakh, this is the first time I saw or heard anything like it. The song was lyric-less. And the whole of it sung with the one syllable 'ah'. For once, I wish I could sing right now instead of using these words so you can also see how beautiful it was. (Although, you are probably better off not hearing me sing!). It was one the most moving prayers I have heard. I stood there for almost an hour -just like that, just listening.

People singing together

And the last thing I liked about this temple (yes, one more reason) - they have a nice museum on the second or third floor. In the Ladakh trip, I finally picked up a guide which ran through some of the basics of Buddhism. My knowledge before being limited to only Gautama Buddha, but the religion itself has a begining much older than that. The museum tracing the life of Gautama Buddha was a nice stop, adding a few more grains of information.

The Maitreya in all his glory

A Dash of Orange Amongst Gray...

2009-03-25T21:42:00.010+05:30

Was all it took to make my day!

We moved to a new office this week (actually, the old office from where we moved out and have moved back in. But it's new for me!). So I am busy spending my last week establishing a new routine - timing my mornings, dashing to the bus stop, stteling into a new coffee routine, finding lunch places to eat...

The one thing I do miss - ok! I hear you. I've not been here long enough to "miss" things. May be I should say, the one thing that I did like about the other office was the view of the Quay. The orange and red tiled brick houses breaking the monotony and the monstrosity of grey office buildings around.

Boat Quay along the Singapore river from 34th floor, Battery Road

The bright orange and brown brick tile roofs

Singapore sprawled beneath a cloud laden sky - yea, it was going to rain!

Lost in One Art

2009-03-20T21:53:00.003+05:30

This poem has been weighing on my mind for the past one week. For no reason, yet, for some reason.

One Art, by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
..........................................
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

I wonder if ‘losing’ really does get easier...

When I saw the movie AND read the book, I liked the poem quite a bit. But it takes a melancholic mood to really, really, feel it I suppose. The other poem in the book is also beautiful. On reflection, not so much for the words, more for the moment where one sister reads it for the other. And for all that the moment signifies.

I carry your heart with me, by EE cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
............................................
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Such sombre thoughts for a Friday night! On more mortal affairs, my trip has been extended by a week. So, lots of options for the weekend – Mcritchie reservoir, may be the ECP... or may be just blogging and reading. Will have to wait and see what the morning brings.

PS: The book is ‘In her shoes’ – not brilliant, but definitely a favourite.

Comfortable?

2009-03-16T23:22:00.002+05:30

A girl seated on one of the sculptures found along the Boat Quay

Caught this girl seated on one of the many scultptures set along the Boat Quay. There are several sets of sculptures, depicting the history of life along Singapore river in times gone by. On reflection, I should have caught the whole sculpture as well. But couldn't resist this pic!

In Search of the Perfect Nook for Coffee and A Book - A Day in Randomness

2009-03-08T14:03:00.009+05:30

I had the Saturday all planned out in my head – a nice toasty day, white sands, blue seas, the wind in my hair and hot coffee as I settled to finish ‘The Hours’. I was going to go to Changi Village, a sleepy locale close to the airport, by the sea and if it was anything like the scenes I had seen on my drive into Singapore on day 1, could be close to paradise. I had read and re-read the scene where Clarissa steps out into a spectacular New York morning about 3 or 4 times. I was getting a feel for the book, and all I needed was a great place to settle into for me to fully devour it.

I had a late start. Ok a really late start! Grabbed a sub, caught the MRT and I was on my way. The sky grumbles, here and there. But my excitement cannot be dampened. I reach Changi Village. Changi is really sleepy. And the sea – grey and murky. This place is nowhere close to what I had in mind. I notice a sign that says ‘Coastal Walk’ and indicates a stretch of beach. So I decide to check it out. 30 minutes, and a kilometre of sweaty walk later, still no sign of my dream. I realized I had grossly mistaken that Changi would be like ECP.

Sleepy sidewalk in Changi Village

What to do now? After a quick coke (the village may be sleepy, still expensive), I decide to get on the bus and try and get to the ECP. On the way, we pass the Changi chapel. On an impulse, I get down. There’s no way I am coming back here – May as well take a look. Plus, there was a cafe attached!

Outside the changi chapel

Just as I get done with the chapel, the sky that has been ominously threatening with its growls and grumbles, decides to unburden itself. So, I sack in the cafe. Now my stomach is rumbling – but the menu is pricey. I order mushroom soup. What I really really crave is endless cups of coffee. Coffee that is strong and not milky. And doesn’t cost 4 sing a cup. I want my Kopi. Still, the cafe is quiet, and I manage to turn a few pages. And chat up with this westerner guy who comes and asks me where I was from. Apparently, he is right now based near Pune and travels to North East very frequently. A vague thought is hovering as we talk - I should get his contact or something like that. But I don’t. The rain stops. The cafe is pretty and all. But there is no feel. So I leave.

Stranded in the Bark Cafe

ECP? May rain again. I don’t want to go to Starbucks. My bus comes – I get on. The bus feels closed. I feel restless. The day feels pointless. I see a signboard for ECP. On an impulse I get down. I am in Bedok. Looks like a residential area. I just want to walk. Few more cafes have come in sight. All serve cappuccinos, Irish coffees, lattes and others I can’t remember. Not a sign of the simple, honest Kopi. I walk further. Ahhh – a Chinese food mall, with graphic designs of all possible meats in the world. My hopes rise a little bit. I run through the menu. And there it is – coffee, Hong Kong style and coffee , China style. I don’t know which one it is. But I say Kopi and she seems to understand. And then I look for something vegetarian. I want plain toast – but she can’t seem to grasp toast with butter by the side (as inferred from her breaking into a song-like squeaky Chinese). She asks if I want Kaya. I don’t know what that is, so I am dragged to the kitchen and shown Kaya :). Yes, a plate of Kaya toast and Kopi for me. All for a buck and ninety.

Kopi and Kaya Toast

There is Chinese music playing behind me and radio jockey talking in between. All slide into the background as I sip the coffee. And bite into the toast. And finally, finally settle to flip a few pages of ‘The Hours’ in soul deep contentment.

A random day, broken only by the monotony of my attempts in photography.

Me in Tang Tea House

Tang Tea House

City Quirks: The Fine City?

2009-03-06T07:44:00.005+05:30

The T-shirt says it all :). I vaguely remember being warned about fines for littering on our first trip to Singapore (15 years back). To be honest, I haven't really paid attention to these fine boards, which supposedly can be seen everywhere. And I probably would not have registered this fact but for the T-shirt.

Of course, my friend pointed out that one can hardly see any cops policing on the road (I wonder how they go around fining people) and people follow rules implicitly (except may be not so much for jay walking :)).

A T-shirt hanging in a shop in China Town

City Quirks: First Impressions

2009-02-25T16:22:00.011+05:30

Ok - finally, I get to click the publish button on my first impressions. These were penned down after my first couple of days itself, and I have more to add. But all those in another post!

- I love the ‘green’ look that the city has got going. Not just trees, there are also stretches of grass lawns here and there and everywhere. Lends the right mix of picturesque and laidback sub-urban air.

- There is a feel of ‘space’ all around the city (excluding my hotel room of course :) ). Even in areas with tall buildings on both sides of the road, I didn't feel as towered in. I think it has to do with the pretty wide roads and broad walkways for pedestrians. Or may be, they just don’t have that many floors on their buildings!

- This one I love. I love the ‘informal’ and 'unorthodox' style of work wear. No ties. No blazers. (Well, you can if you want to). All around me (by the way, I am in Raffle's Place, which seems like the financial center), people are in what I think is the widest variety and COLORFUL of western wear. Who cares if you are an i-banker? (Ok – may be ALL the people hovering around aren’t i-bankers. Still). It is so hard to predict what you will see on the next woman - fancy swishy skirts, dresses and blouses in satin that would be considered party wear in lots of places, a range of colors and prints... Obviously, even in all the informalness, men have only so many choices.

Last friday, people wore jeans to work. Can you beat that? We don't do that even in Mumbai!!!!

Not that I mind going the formal way - I still love 'dressing up' for my job (adds a bit glitz, if i can say so). But with just a pair of suits, I always felt a little under dressed in a place like NY city! Singapore takes off that pressure a little bit.

- And oh the shoes!!!! it has to be the highest of heeled ones. While there is nothing new about fancy high heels, what catches my attention is that these women don't exchange them for flats while on the roads or on the train or making that long walk to the bus stop. Impressive!

- A lot of shorts and skirts going around the place. And definitely tinier ones that what I've seen in other places :).

- And the crowds!! I was pleasantly surprised to see people all over the place during my first lunch. Every single restaurant was buzzing with people and long queues. Lunchtime also seems to be a good time to check out a shop or two. And at night, standing at start of Boat Quay (close to work), you can see heads of people, all the way till the end. People grabbing a drink, people catching up. Quite a lively after-work scene.

In the Lion City, Singapore

2009-02-23T20:45:00.007+05:30

My fourth day in Singapore. Though the city lost its sunny disposition within hours of my arrival, I was impressed and loved what I saw. I like it and am liking it more.

A rainy afternoon greets me on day one at Singapore. The smudges on the right are probably rain drops on my lens. Not a great pic, but doesn't look too bad in this size!

The drive from Changi Airport to the YMCA clinched my first impressions. For the first 5-10 minutes of leaving the departure terminal, the road was all tree-lined and incredibly pretty, even though if in a landscaped way. the road trails along some pretty beaches, bay-side restaurants and golf courses until hitting some flyovers (which appear to be the equivalents of the highways). Even on these flyovers, I could get a lovely spread of the city! Quite a contrast to most other places, where usually the drive from the airport to the main city is through highways in somewhat un-inhabited surroundings and one needs to keep their expectations at bay till you can actually get out!

I am being put up in the YMCA Hotel – definitely not corporate style living accommodation. I suppose one who was drowning should not ask for a yacht and just be happy for a trip on a tug boat. (:))I have gotten over most of my cribs, but cannot forgive this one – they do not have a full length mirror in the room!

The location – 1, Orchard Road however is perfect. More on this soon.

PS: Waking up at six is taking its toll on me. Goodnight!

The Singapore Museum of History from my room window

Puppy Love

2009-02-17T16:39:00.009+05:30

Well, I am just back from a weekend in good old Hyderabad filled with a whole dose of puppy love. My friend R with whom I stayed has this incredibly adorable Lhasa Apso ‘Tipu’ and I just can’t get over him. The way he stands poised, waiting at the door when he hears someone coming in, the way he sniffs and prances around you, gauging and measuring a new-comer, the way he keeps running up and down the house checking to make sure every one if ok, the way he was relishing his single cube of panneer, the way his front locks falls over his eyes – the list of his ‘adorable ways’ is endless.

Darling Tipu

Sunday morning, as I drowsily woke up to answer the maid on my tea preference, I could feel a cuddly ball of fur sitting on my bed and nosing around me; I reached out and gave him a huge bear hug and may have scarred him of (:)) in return – but it was one of the best wakeup calls I’ve had in a really long time!

Tipu looking out of the car on his way to his walk

I confess – I am not one of those ardent dog-people, who seem to have their way with even the scariest beasts. I am easily scared by a dog that barks a ton at me or just looks daunting in many cases. But still, there is that idealization of the simplistic yet unconditional love and faithfulness of a four legged friend. (All selfish, but nevertheless there :)).

As they say in Marley and Me, “A dog doesn't care if you are rich or poor, educated or illiterate, clever or dull. Give him your heart and he will give you his.”

On the travel front, a couple of days of re-discovering Hyderabad and some photos, my first sleeper bus travel, a few thoughts on a recent trip to Vasai fort, a still pending 2009 resolution and an upcoming Singapore trip. Lots to write about – I hope they will all make it to the blog!

Kanheri Caves

2009-02-02T19:08:00.016+05:30

In the heart of Sanjay Gandhi National Park are the Kanheri caves. According to the good old Wiki, the caves were used by Buddhist monks as places for meditation and prayer and apparently date back to 1st to the 9th century BC. This location must have been an ideal retreat for those seeking solitude and peace. The large meditation hall is the first piece of construction that one comes across. The hall is lined with pillars on the inside, and is quite unadorned otherwise while the walls of the outside veranda carry Buddhist sculptures.

The main meditation hall

This shot of the meditation hall and the Buddha below are fairly common. The pillars not so much! :)

Pillars in the small veranda outside the meditation hall

Buddha on the side walls in the veranda

Although this place is a Buddhist relic, our good friend S pointed out other influences - a sculpture of the Hindu snake god and a sculpture of common people (we think) of those periods.

Beyond the main meditation hall, there are smaller dwellings all around the place. If you hike across and slightly beyond the main lay of the caves, you come to the spot where we clicked the ghost trees (previous post) and the view of Mumbai.

When we landed at the caves, there was a huge group of 40-50 college kids at the Kanheri caves – flooding the place, and acting silly that we immediately sought out a quieter parts to explore. When we were leaving, the caves were packed with people –families and groups of friends on a weekend outing. Were we glad to have had an early start!

A Walk into Mumbai’s Woods

2009-01-30T18:24:00.003+05:30

Couple of weekends back saw me and A heading to the Sanjay Gandhi National Park early on a cold Sunday morning. The park has a walking trail leading to the caves. The trail is a good 5kms long, one way, and makes for a great ‘I want to stretch out those muscles, feel the crisp cold air, get away from honks and dirt and crowds and work my appetite for a heady Sunday brunch’ kind of walk!

Ghost tree inside the park

Note: Don’t be misled by ‘national park’ as I was. I did not expect to see more than a handful of nature and hiking enthusiasts, but there were a bunch of people who had arrived even before when we did (7.00 AM). The park opens its gates much earlier to regular ‘walkers’ who hold a pass. There was also a karate class as well as a yoga class (if I remember correctly) happening in the park entrance. Of coure, this part of the park is separated from the actual forest with the famous leopards.

After walking for about 20 to 30 minutes, the crowd thinned away as most people visiting had driven down. I didn’t quite understand people driving down, because the walk was really the best part of the visit. So, it was just us, enjoying the fresh morning air, getting a dash of green and also a great work out.

Mumbai from afar

In Transit

2009-01-26T01:18:00.011+05:30

Mumbai trains and long transits are one of the most chronicled aspects of the city. Despite this, they never cease to fascinate.

People moving towards the train in preparation as it whizzes to a halt

I live ten minutes from my place of work, and so don't go through the whole rigmarole of taking a crowded train first thing in the morning and last thing at night. And therefore, my memories – or at least a majority of my memories – are probably quite different from those of the larger masses. The mildly filled compartments, the evening breeze on my face as I stand by the door and watch the silhouettes of apartments spotted with lit windows - sometimes filtering through gauzy curtains, the much closer shanties with a window or a door open, laying bare to the world the life within, the temple that surprises me every time somewhere along the Vikhroli-Dadar route, and a mental note every time to look it up. The pleasures of a weekend commute.

Early morning at borivilli station

Coming from a not-so-dependant-on-trains-metro, autos were the instinctive first choice for transport. You know that trains have somewhat usurped that position when a friend, giving directions to a new year's party, suggests you take a train, and you don't think twice about it.

Postcard from Italy

2009-01-18T18:29:00.006+05:30

Postcard from Italy

A Postcard for Me

Look what came in the mail this week - a postcard all the way from Portofino, Italy! Not the e-mail one, but full with postage, delivered by mail man kind of one! To be honest, I thought postcards must have been a wiped out art of sorts by now. The last time I got a postcard-from-between-a-trip was from a friend when she was visiting her brother in the US back in college. As a kid, when we used to travel – we referring to my family – we always used to pick up postcards in nice places, but definitely never mailed them to anybody. May be they were just keepsake buys!

It is so nice and fun to dash off a postcard, just scribbling a few thoughts that take you in that moment. Thanks Sriram! He writes, “Portofino is famous with celebrity tourists for its yachts’, sailboats and beaches. Good place to be in for an expensive holiday!”

Maximum City

2009-01-10T13:10:00.005+05:30

Bombay Lost and Found, the by-line for this book is a little misleading. What I hoped would be a book of life and experiences in Bombay was actually his two year research on different aspects of the city - but I was not disappointed.

Maximum city neatly compartmentalizes Bombay into underworld, Bollywood, bar-girls, politics- all this interspersed with Sukhetu Mehta's own personal anecdotes. The book's beginning is what is easily relatable to any non-Mumbaiite moving into the city. Thereafter, it is a Mumbai I probably would never have gotten to know - and maybe, some of it, I don’t want to know - except through movies, and maybe the newspaper. The rent Act, the crazy hype over the West (West Mumbai), why New Bombay failed, the lack of solutions to Mumbai over-population situation – we have questioned all of it at some point in time. And he lays the answers or at least the history for us. His portrayal of some banal scenes from life, like travelling on an overcrowded Mumbai train, dealing with your plumber - yes, you have seen all of it. Yet, the book has managed to throw a different angle to it.

What makes the book's narration of some of the already beaten-to-death-aspects of the city is the interesting characters the author meets and how he has beautifully fleshed out each character's life, dreams, aspirations, their philosophy and what makes Mumbai tick for them. I loved his portrayal of Babbanji’, a 16-year old who runs away from Bihar to Mumbai.

I won't call the book an easy read. It's voluminous, and sometimes like a text book. The author's style is vivid, and so graphically descriptive that it borders on repulsive and disgusting on many occasions- but that is probably what helps drive the truth home. However, his narration is simple and flows beautifully. He has managed to simplify a complex city, complex people and complex country (to some level) and present the nuts and bolts of it engagingly!

Exploring the Sahyadris

2009-01-01T13:51:00.009+05:30

It was 12 ‘o’ clock in the night. I had just come home from work and I couldn't make up my mind if I should be going on this trek tomorrow. The usual excuses - don't know most of the people in the group, too difficult to get up early... But next day morning come 5.45, I was ready - fresh and raring to go on the Mahuli trek. And thus began my explorations of the Sahyadris.

A temple on the way to Duke's Nose

I take no credit for these trips. It all goes to my colleague, an avid trekker and the initiator of these one-day hikes into the Ghats. One of the best things I like about these treks is that I have nothing to do but just land up at the appointed time in the Kanjur Marg station. I only know 3 things - 1) place we are heading to 2) time to meet and... Oh well, actually only 2 things to remember!

The village sprawled below - as seen from atop Duke's Nose

My Sahyadri round up for the year included Mahuli fort, Duke's Nose (near Lonawla, Khandala), Naneghat and then Siddhaghad. The first three happened during and slightly after the monsoons, when the landscape was bright green - almost with a fluorescent blaze. The Siddhaghad trek was filled with hues of golden and brown.

Our target in the distance -Mahuli Fort

Obviously, the landscape doesn't wary widely between each of the peaks and passes. I wouldn't call any one of these places a must do over the other- but we still have our favorites. Siddhaghad was particularly my favorite because we spent the night over at the top of the hill. There is a temple on the top of Siddhaghad and there is an empty “mandap” where people can camp. No rooms or anything, just a roofless courtyard of sorts. The food cooked by the couple living there was one of the most delicious meals I've had. We sat out in the night talking about this and that. Then retired to sleep under the sky!

A view of the ranges shrouded in mist, Mahuli

The start of Naneghat

The treks are good fun for other reasons too. We travel in a way I would have never otherwise done in Mumbai - take 2 or 3 trains some times, local buses, share autos, unreserved class. Then there is the food in some roadside-dhaba-like places serving some of the most spiciest and tastiest of dishes! Then, you meet people - nope haven't made thick as thieves friends from these jaunts, but there is always some new stories, new conversations.

And of course, it gets you far away from the madd(en)ing crowd.

Kailasanathar Temple, Kanchipuram

2008-12-30T23:58:00.009+05:30

The first glimpse of Kailasanathar temple

Heading to the Kailasanathar temple, one has to leave the crowded roads of the main town emerging into village like areas of the district, bringing with it a distinct feel of calm. The first glimpse of Kailasanathar temple with its huge green lawn - the stamp of the ASI - although repetitive, has a similar effect. Since the temple is under ASI, full fledged worship (vazhipaadu) and pooja's are not allowed. A priest comes and performs minimal rites twice a day.

The courtyard around the temple lined with pillars

The temple is all done in a sort of sand stone or lime stone. If you have been to the Shore Temple in Mahabalipuram, the resemblance between the two - both in terms of material of construction as well as architectural style is unmistakable (yes, even to the untrained eye!). The inner walls of this temple are covered with sculptures depicting different stories. Even this had a distinctiveness as each sculpture seems to be encased in a mandap of its own and bordered by thin pillars.

One sculpture that caught our eye was this one, primarily for the hair style resembling that on buddha. Buddhism was just about getting prominence around this time, and maybe this was an evidence of its influence on the Pallava rulers!

A sculpture on the wall

The British, during their time, apparently attempted some sort of a restoration effort, however ended up ruining the homogeneity of the temple. While it is not clear who really was the cause for the destruction, you cannot miss the evidence of failed restoration efforts.

Remains of paintings on the walls

The priest who was there kindly gave us a brief on the temple. Legend goes that Lord Vishnu worshipped Lord Shiva here. Vishnu had just destroyed a demon, who also happened to be a devout worshipper of Shiva. Therefore his penance here was for cleansing himself of the sin of destroying a Shiva worshipper.

Another interesting belief is that of the cycle of life. The passageway around the inner sanctum in this temple is blocked at the entrance and in the exit - with only a one feet tunnel like opening to enter the passageway. You have to crawl through these small tunnels in order to go around the sanctum. The belief is that, once you have crawled through these two tunnels, you have left your sins behind and have been reborn.

Chaatwala on the Street

2008-12-24T00:31:00.007+05:30

This peanut chaatwala was the source of nibbles for many of the audience through a play at Horniman's circle. When we left the circle garden at about 10.30, the place was nearly deserted. Except for him. He was still sitting around, chating with his friend, and still doing his thing.

Monotonity... and Then This!

2008-12-19T00:01:00.015+05:30

The week has been horrible. Monotonous. A sense of restlessness weighed down only by inertia. Sometimes, you just indulge in a bout of boredom hiding under the excuse of purposelessness of everything. From drinking coffee to reading a book to planning a vacation. It was scary for a while, that just for the few days of doldrums, nothing spiked my interest or energy levels.

And then this arrived.

I recently decided to join the library service launched by my company (aah, I wouldn't call it a return to normalcy yet, but more the 'the ship is sinking, but we'll make your last moments very pleasurable!' effort). All we need to do is log in and place our orders - and the book is deleivered to ur doorstep - all wrapped perfectly in glass paper. Ahh the pleasure of ripping apart the cover - feels like it's gift opening time everytime! Anyways - this one just arrived today, and I have hardly been able to contain myself. May be, just may be, this would be my summer destination of 2009.

Reminds me - time I started making a wishlist!

The Land of Thousand Temples, Kanchipuram

2008-12-09T13:14:00.018+05:30

My mother has a strange fascination over Kanchipuram. It's difficult to ascertain exactly when in the last few years, this small crowded temple town got its hold upon her, but it has. Ever since then, Kanchipuram has been thrown at us as an all-stop-panacea. Out of sorts, want to go to a temple? Kanchipuram. A day out from Chennai? Kanchipuram. Do you have particular plans when you come down from Mumbai to Chennai? No? Then, Kanchipuram. Kanchipuram is a standing joke between my sister and me, both of us always desisting my mom's urges to visit the town. But it seems like my mom has made some kind of a convert of my dad ... he patiently gives her company on her expeditions, though his un-religiousness remains intact.

In the last couple of years, my parents have discovered several temples in this town through their frequent visits. So, when my mother first mentioned the Kailasanadar temple, my interest was piqued. Plus, I wanted to explore some old and lesser known temples myself (yes, getting to know my roots). And so we went in search of a particular Guru temple (where he is present with his spouse, a rarity, it seems) and of course Kanchipuram for a day.

Idols outside Kailasanadar Temple

My mom is probably the perfect company if you wanted to 'temple' - she can tell you the stories behind the temples, the gods. This is of course as long as you have the patience for the single mindedness of a true devout. The nandanar story of Chidambaram was my favorite. The story of Mayiladuthurai, of different nayanars (or followers of shiva), the story of how the Thiruvasagam was written. Visiting temples for me is always tied up with listening to these tales of devotion, gods conquering the asuras or of divine romance, stories listened to with the same fascination as for fairy tales. Visiting Kanchipuram was just like the old times.

Kanchipuram is called the city of thousand temples. Among the 'puranada' temples or ancient temples, there are 108 Shiva temples and 19 Vishnu temples. Did you know that The Kamakshi Amman temple in the center of the town is the only shrine for the goddess in the town? Kamakshi is believed to be a form of shakthi or supreme power. Kanchi's Kamakshi, along with Madurai's Meenakshi and Kasi's Visalkshi are three epitomes of the shakthi forms. Exemplifying her importance, none of the Shiva temples in Kanchi have the usual secondary shrine for the goddess. Interestingly, all the Shiva and Vishnu temples have been built in a way that these deities all face the Kamakshi. Yes, Kamakshi appeals to the feminist in me.

The Gopuram at the entrance to the Kamakshi temple

It would be hard to cover all the temples in Kanchi at one shot. We managed to visit the Kailasanadar temple and Vaikunda Perumal temple, but had to miss the Ulagalanda Perumal temple, amongst others we hoped to cover. Without doubt, this one and several others have been put on the list for another time. There is also a Chola excavation site just outside of Kanchi - the name eluudes me for the moment - but, that has also been put off for another time.

Oh, yes, there will always be a next one to Kanchipuram, what with my mom threatening to retire here!

A flower seller at the entrace of the temple at Govindavadi

Lighting a lamp

Memories from Yesteryears

2008-12-07T17:25:00.004+05:30

Last weekend, my sis and I were rummaging through some of cartons at home, all ready to be shifted into the new home when I caught sight of my slam books from school. I couldn't remember the last time I had laid eyes on them and of course we stopped midway through the rummaging to dig into memories of yesteryear's.

A lots of things that I couldn't remember - a really long long emotional 'won't ever lose touch' goodbye from my best friend... and no we haven't. :) Lesser emotional write-ups from others. Called a hard nut to crack by one, impulsive by another. Unbelievably, I have actually added slots in my slam book for classmates to fill in their crushes, the boys they were teased with and their embarrassing moments. What's more interesting is that all my friends have with dedication filled those out - priceless !

I had also filled the first page out in a 'this book belongs to me, and a bit about me' fashion (no, i didn't fill in my crushes or my embarrassing moments), but interestingly I have written that I want to travel the world. And I just can't remember wanting it back then. Of course, I was totally jealous when a friend went to the US for a whole summer vacations and she wasn't even half as excited as I was. And I was always the first to line up for school excursions - turtle walks, trekking in Himalayas, Lakshadweep. Of course, I also wanted to be a computer engineer... hehe, and we all know how that dream turned out!

Anyways, always fun to look back.

note to self: scan pics fron the by gone age. Can't be forgetting what I used to be!

Diner Trivia - Alice's, Ellen's

2008-11-23T09:23:00.009+05:30

The other day, (as a part of the random browsing I always find myself doing) I was trying out this new website which allows you to make lists -lists of activities, sights to see, places to eat, shop. The lists could be like '10 shopping stops in Manhattan', or 'on the Moroccan food trail in NY'. I found the idea very interesting - it is a variation of other travel websites and opinions, but a list based on a theme is kind of like having a custom theme based tour made for you.

Anyways, I was trying this website and I for some reason decided to add Alice's to my list on 'California road trips'. I was looking for an image to go with my write-up which is when I ran into this...

"Named after the song, Alice's Restaurant, made famous by Arlo Guthrie, this Alice's Restaurant is a true country diner gem. While it may not be the original restaurant the folk singer sang about, it has an unmistakable charm.The building the restaurant is in, was originally built in the early 1900's and served as a general store t0 support the logging industry in the area. What had been called "Four Corners" was then turned into a restaurant. The building was eventually purchased by Alice Taylor, who renamed the restaurant after herself, and the song. The restaurant was sold again in the 1970's and has been family owned ever since. On summer days you can see long lines of bikers, stopping by for one of the fabulous burgers on the menu."

Who knew there was a story lurking behind this place! Sadly, I have no photo's of this place. But you can check some out here.

While we are on the topic of diners, here are some snapshots from Ellen's Stardust. I went there once again with my friends (on my trip to NYC this year April).

On the Markha Valley Trail: Sun burns and a Snow Storm

2008-10-16T10:19:00.004+05:30

Day 6: Thachungtse to Kongmaru La Base camp

Being prepared (aaah – I refer to the mental make-up here) can make all the difference to a difficult day and it did to yesterday. The stretch from Thachungtse to Kongmaru La base camp (the base camp comes after crossing the pass at 5200 meters) could have easily contended with day 2 for the ‘most toughest day’ spot. Not that it didn’t. But the going was made easier simply because we knew what lay ahead. And we prodded along slowly but steadily to that end.

The actual stop on this stretch is usually at Nimaling – a meadowland half way before the pass. But instead our guide thought we should take the pass the same day to make out last day easier. I was frustrated. Out in the middle of nowhere I had nothing but my guide’s word to make an informed decision. I know I make it sound like a life and death decision – but it was an important decision. Anyway, we had a horse with us again – so we decided to cross the pass.

Nimaling was pretty – a green clearing cradled in the valley, but not spectacular. But it is also one of the coldest spots on the entire trail. An Indian trekker we met on the route mentioned that if it rained in Leh for two days together, Nimaling would see snow. And our luck (or lack of it), we got to see some as well.

What was spectacular was the view of Kang Yatse which crept in behind us as we hiked the pass. We were huffing and puffing our way up from Nimaling, took a break at the flat land that breaks the climb, to turn around and see the KangYatse towering over us, as if it had sneaked behind to shout boo-hoo! It was a breathtaking moment. Once on the pass, we were greeted with a welcoming snowfall. Though it hurt and felt a bit like ice rather than snow. None of us were dressed appropriately (talk about lack of etiquettes :)) – but it was a downhill climb and we somehow made it to the base.

The smokin mokin Kang Yatse

We were the only ones in the camp and I loved it for that. It rained endlessly through the night and today when we woke up, we could see the mountain tops that we had passed by yesterday covered with snow – not capped but like the sprinkling of icing sugar on a cake. We were happy that that part was behind us.

The team at Kongmaru La as we set off for our last day trek to Shamsumdo

Day 7: Kongmaru La base to Shamsumgdo

We just finished dinner and admired the clear night sky for the last time. For the last time, M and I laid out our tent, aired our sleeping bags. It is hard to believe that five days ago I was doubting our chances at finishing the trail. And here we are, in the end. I am happy we did it, sad it is over.

Our last day of setting the tent ritual

Today’s landscape was one of the prettiest – an interplay of pinkish rust and green throughout. A change from the barren browns of the initial days and the greens of the small villages we crossed. These mountains are fascinting. And walking through the heart of this ranges for the last 7 days, an experience. And each day has been different. In some places, they have the gnarled appearance of an old man's hands - all wrinkled and veins popping out. Sometimes, they are sharply cut with a metallic sheen, as if shaped by a diamond-cutter. Sometimes, they are smooth slopes of small infinite pieces of gravel creating varying hues as if from a painter's brush. Some have the look of clay, all ready to curmble to the lightest of touch.

Me on the pink and green trail

I worry that I may not remember every single sight of the last few days. Already, the scenes are overlapping from their compartmentalized days they are supposed to neatly fall into. But as long as I can bring back some, if not all of the images, call upon some breathtaking moments and of course, incredible maggis......

And of course, there will always be the photos! :)

On the Markha Valley Trail: Dark Clouds, A Drizzle and Hot Pakoras

2008-10-16T10:12:00.003+05:30

Day 5: Markha to Thachungtse

I dozed for three hours this evening and am still all ready to go back to bed – once I finish this quick write-up.

Today’s trail was gentle – a bit of ascent, a bit of descent. The skies are cloudy and I hope it doesn’t rain – which it exactly does. Our initial itinerary had this broken down into 2 days with a stop in Hankar. Can’t imagine why, especially as we managed the bit to Hankar in three hours.

Another 'Mani' wall - that is the wall where the pile up slabs with a buddhist prayer, found near stupas

The prayer slabs on the wall

An old lady adn her grandson we saw on the trail. She actually came and asked me money for the photos I took.

Two river crossings and five hours later we are at Thachungtse by 2 in the afternoon. We encountered a light drizzle on the way – so me and M hurry with our tents. Our troublesome cook has suddenly turned friendly and made pakoras. Hot pakoras in the rains… we are in heaven in heaven.

With nothing to do, we decide on a quick evening nap – only to be woken up by the rains. It’s not heavy, but from within the tent it seems like a storm raging upon us. However… sleep overtakes. Until dinner and a write-up waits…

It is still drizzling outside. The camp looks beautiful with the last of the sunlight fading away, and star making their entrance. And us surrounded by dark mountains, nestled in V between their slopes, with lighted tents dotting the landscape.

On the Markha Valley Trail: A Pass and Some Plains

2008-10-09T19:35:00.009+05:30

Day 3: Over the Ganda La Pass to Skiu via Shingo

I want to say we woke up after a log like sleep after a long day, but sadly was not the case. I kept tossing around and waking up breathless to find my heart racing like mad. Deep breathing brought no results. I was sure I had AMS. My other friend had breathlessness and headache and the other friend didn’t sleep at all.

The campsite at Ganda La base

So we were the Bright Brady Bunch next day morning! However, we had learnt something the previous day and slowed our pace to match our breathing. And tackling the pass first thing in the day was a plus. M was on a horse and we were all ok. After the pass was a whole day of descent – I don’t think we relished any other stretch as we did this one.

Nestling a cup of tea and a bowl of maggi at Shingo, we relished the cross over of the pass. And also had one of the most interesting conversations in the trail with a frenchman. He was solo trekking with no guide or horses and living of t-stalls and the homestays, all through the trail. I was very impressed. He talked about he saw the Taj from afar to avoid the “tourists” (:), his trip to Pangong by bus and how Leh was too hippy. The last bit came as a surprise, as we may have mistaken him off as one (interesting to realize that so far, my definition of hippy was a foriegner dressed in hare rama kind of clothes!). He also chatted about the nuke deal and surrounding drama and the Jammu problem. I was surprised by how much he was tuned into the going-ons in India. Philosophy prof, we ended our chat by wondering if 2 months vacations were good for kids or not.

Evening was interesting – the entrance to Skiu was like a scene out of Indiana Jones (and the Last Crusader – the only one I have seen), a shower in a solar shower which was of course not working and a night under the most star-dusty skies I have ever seen...

Ibex heads welcoming us as into Shingo

Day 4: Skiu to Markha

Finally! A night of solid sleep and none of the breathlessness. We have been hitting the sleeping bags by 9 and waking up by 6.30. A schedule I haven’t seen in ages. I am lovin' it.

Today’s route was to be on flat plains. We were looking forward to that. Barely 20 minutes after beginning – we ran into an old woman – a really old wrinkled woman. Our guide who dedicatedly greets every passing by guide, fellow Ladakhi or tea-stall owner chatted up with her. We learned that she was going to Markha from Skiu – our “trek” for the day. She had this frayed, old, teeny weeny backpack – the one which teenagers carry around for carrying absolutely nothing. She was on her way to either get her knees checked or get her spects fixed (that was lost in translation). But she was going to wobbly walk her way to it.

I was amazed, amazed at the way of life in this unconnected region. I wonder what life would have been to grow up in a place like this, to have grown up with weekends spend rambling in mountains and wilderness. Like Heidi. Like Gerald Durrell. Like our guide here.

Canyon like rock faces on the way to Markha

On the Markha Valley Trail: The Proverbial Last Mile

2008-09-28T17:59:00.002+05:30

Route: Jinghchen To Ganda La Base past Rumbak via Yurutse

“Gruelling” was the only way to describe day 2. Today we set off from Jingchen past Rumbak, Yurutse to the base of Ganda La (pass). From a height of roughly 3900 meters, we ascended to 4200 meters according to our guide. The guide book notes that the base camp is at a height of 4500 meters and for all our sakes, I hope that is in fact right. The actual pass is at a height of 4900 m – so still some way to go. All these numbers which were mere numbers have begun to take significance of their own.

Before leaving for Leh, the Markha Valley Trail (marked as moderate) seemed very simple. I kept looking for ways to extend the treks, include places to cover more and see all that we were supposed to see. Today – that has all changed. 8 hours as such is not hard, but add to that a group of first-time and moderate trekkers, and a steep incline – the picture looks very different. And shortness of breath, can be a real speed breaker.

If the saying “the last mile is also the toughest” ever held true, it was today (not sure if it is really a saying, but nevertheless). I remember the exact moment when we reached our end point or what we thought was our end point. Only to find that our horses had found this site unsuitable to their fancies and had decided to camp a few hundred meters ahead in the second campsite!! Every step after that is etched in my memory! Our guide’s view “every step today is step lesser tomorrow”. While it was hard to argue with that logic and his smile, it didn't make it any easier!

PS 1: All qualms about an “elaborate” staff (yes, the presence of cook versus a cook-cum-guide counted as elaborate, not really, but somewhat) have been squished. The extremely watery Maggi and pickle waiting for me was like heaven. (Yes, Maggi and pickle!)

PS 2: For tomorrow, my friend (who has half a mind to cut the trek short at Skiu) is taking the horse. I hope that works, I would hate to turn back!

Red clashing with brown

The lonely Chorton (or Stupa), among the many we saw

Green fields at Yurutse

On the Markha Valley Trail: A Smiling Guide, Four Horses and a Sprightly Donkey Later

2008-09-26T16:27:00.006+05:30

"The person who wrote these notes passed away the moment his feet touched the Argentine soil. The person who reorganizes and polishes them, me, is no longer, at least I am not the person I once was. All those wandering around "Our America with a capital A" has changed me more that I Thought". ~ 'Che' Guevara, Motorcycle Diaries

(As written on 18th August)

Finally, today we are embarking on our Markha valley trek. I know I sound like we have been waiting ages for the trek to begin, though it has only been three days. I guess I have been a little worried that we may not get to do it at all.

We began by getting the band together – the horseman, guide, and we were surprised to find a cook thrown in to the mix as well. The ‘preparatory activities’ at some level came as a shock – it seemed like we were taking way too many things contrary my intention of taking as less as possible and going basic. The sight of loading these animals with kerosene cans, stoves and tent equipment wasn’t the prettiest. They are the beasts of burden, but some looked so ill-fed and unkempt that we were worried about some animal activists locking us in. At some level, we began to wonder if this was the best way to have gone about it. We ended up with 4 horses and yes one sprightly donkey. The donkey, despite the weight on it's back, was jumping around like a scatter-brain scared out of its wits. Quite cute really.

I was unsure if Markha would do justice to the beauty that Ladakh had to offer. The first hour put to rest all these doubts. After walking through a short green patch, we emerged on to a desert like flat land. This stretch ran along small towns like Phey and Phyang on side and was bordered by rambling mountais on the other, capped by azure skies on the top. This stretch extened for like an hour before we landed on to the narrow trail cutting across the mountain slopes.

As we set off

A group of horses in the distance

The stark mountains intermingled with vast patches of desert like sand sweeping the slopes, the wonderful play of brown, the numerous shades and shapes. The Sind gave us company for the initial part of the route – it is surprising, but I would have never imagined that a brown river could look so beautiful and so right at home.

Veins cut into the mountains

Rafters on the Sind

We crossed a french couple with whom we got chatty. J was upset they had more donkeys in his group than horses (:)). Yes, it is always nice to have mighty beasts to spruce travel tales. It was nice chatting up with them - and the first of interesting people we met on the trail. J also had ridiculously long number of vacation days, which we faithfully felt jealous of! Not only that, his job allowed him to travel crazy - he was off to Burkina Faso after Ladakh!

Our stop for the day was Jingchen. But having reached Jingchen at an early hour of 3 in the afternoon, we wanted to plough ahead to our next stop 4 hours away. Our cook had already set up camp and refused to budge. He seemed to think he was the boss of the group and well, we didn't really know how to impress otherwise. I was now regretting leaving behind my reading companion in an effort of travelling light. But as you can see, I have put these free hours to good use – thoughts have never before flown the way they do today - fresh from the experience and free of after thoughts and hind sights.

Through Coffee and Chaos, We Made History

2008-09-25T19:45:00.014+05:30

In a matter of days, my world has been turned 360 degrees several times around and if possible upside down as well. It would be unreal and unnatural and just, well, unreal for me to carry on with my Ladakh trip accounts, without making a note of these events – which have left their mark on not just my life but I would think world financial history as well. Hell, for all you know, I could be a part of a HBR case study – alright, may be the part that gets lost between the lines, but definitely a part. So, in the duty of dutifully recording the most important events in my life, here I go.

You may be aware (honestly, I wouldn't blame you if you weren't), we just witnessed what could be THE financial crisis of "our time". Yes, I hear people are talking about this debacle in the same breath as 9/11. (:) (I know I joke, but it is not every day that you are a part of something this big, even if it is big in a screwed up kind of way!) And I have been a spectator, but a spectator from the inside simply from the virtue of being employed in one of these firms. The recent demise of my firm however has of course drawn me from the audience right into the battle field.

It all started two weeks ago when we saw our public standing see a rapid descent in a matter of days. While the gods convened, we, the lesser mortals remained glued to our screens tracking the minutest flickers in the pulse of our survival, and the craziest of speculations, all the while wondering, and actually joking about our future. Time was filled with rounds of coffees, meetings and discussions. By Friday, we knew. From “business as usual”, we had progressed on to “business no more”. I find myself, once again, seeking refuge under the word “unreal” to describe the mood, but unreal it was.

September 15th, Monday. That morning brought a whole dose of reality. Hearing “I am sorry” from my boss was not the best wake up call I have had in years. We were left to the only other choice available – to break ourselves into parts and put each up for sale. The days that followed have been the most surreal of all – clearing and saving the remnants of our past. Coffee and discussions continuing ....

Just as each passing day has brought new developments, it has also brought about a change in our attitude and standing. We have been disappointed by what we believed in. For all the one firm philosophy that was brandished, it was the each man for his own attitude that survived. The bright spots have been the support and concern extended by the people we work with and friends.

As for me, I still wait. Out of pure inertia and nothing more. (And of course the absence of enticing job offers at the moment - and not for the lack of trying!) This definitely puts a spoke into my 2-year plan (or rather at least 2-year plan). However, all is not over - not yet. And of course, I continue to worry that I have still not had the opportunity to brandish my photos from Ladakh...

Towering Into The Clouds

2008-09-10T22:28:00.004+05:30

I know, I know! For someone who just came back from Ladakh, instead of flooding my blogs with pictures, I've been dousing it with words. My laptop has crashed sadly - with no signs of revival in the near horizon. Unless of course the random laptop repair guy I called today proves to be a jem! What you see below is one of the first photos I uploaded - consider it a preview for the full show!

The mountains outside of Leh

The Familiarity of Leh

2008-09-06T15:14:00.014+05:30

(As written at the Airport, waiting for the flight to Mumbai)

Two weeks of crisscrossing with this city at various instants to acclimatize, just rest between journeys, search for travel agents, trip deals and drivers, trying out its various German bakeries, walking down its sinuous gully-ways. By the time we left this place, Leh almost had the familiarity of a city lived in.

One day as we were walking out of Zar-la, our residence in Leh, we noticed a small board which said ‘shortcut to market’. It was a narrow gully leading to the market crossing fields, other houses and gutters. Though we later conceded, that these were really not “shortcuts”, but nevertheless fun exploring them. On our first visit to the Shanthi Stupa, we were once again guided to a narrow gullyway, which on the way back we truly lost. But we still managed to figure our way back.

Leh's Gullies

There was the scarf shop man, who would wave every time I walked past his shop and invite us in over for chai. The day we came back from our trek, we were out hunting for a deal to go to Nubra and Pangong. And we turned around to ask a taxi driver for some directions and there was our Jumma ji. Jumma was the driver who took us for our first couple of road trips. We had had a great time on those trips. His favorite question used to be “trek jaake kya karoge – mein aapko nubrak leke jaathi hoon, whana bahuth kuch hai” (what will you do going on a trek, I’ll take you to Nubra). It was fun listening to his description of tourist, the place and little titbits we gleaned about his life. The first thing he told us when we ran into him was that 'Aapka rishtedaar bi nahi pehachanega' (even your relatives are not going to recognize you now!). It was like running into an old friend.

Then there was the Mero travel agent, another person we kept running into after the trek. He didn’t think we'd make it beyond the second day of the trek (a thought that might have echoed through us to at some point on the trek). And then we'd stand there reminiscing about our trek or he'd tell us some of his experience. And of course, there always seemed to be some of our fellow travellers whom we kept running into. We got to know a few quite well; With others it was just a quick wave.

Yes - I'd say the familiarity we developed and meeting new people was one of the best things about Leh and this vacation.

Last Day, Lasting Thoughts at Leh

2008-09-02T21:45:00.017+05:30

(As captured on 30th August, our last day at Leh)

Today is our last day in Ladakh and Leh. We are sitting at Penguin – a café we seemed to have frequented the most. There is lovely music playing in the background – what seems like South Indian classical fusion, though the café manager claims it to be Nepali. Quite a change from the Buddha beats which seemed to be their favorite.

Yesterday, on the way back from Pangong Tso, I was panicking. Pangong was our last trip in Ladakh, and right towards the end as we were returning back Leh, I was driven by this sudden urge to photo-shoot like a mad woman. Had I clicked every single moment, recorded every memory? My friend, M, sitting opposite to me refuses to even listen to my already beginning ‘post vacation’ cribs. She doesn’t want to talk or even think about the Monday morning that’s up ahead of us, not until she absolutely has to.

I have heard of people saying that their vacation was a total break from reality – and this one was truly like that. Maybe it was the length of the trip – fifteen days seems to have been enough for us to completely break from all things familiar. Or maybe it was fifteen days with nearly no cell connection, no TV, no news (for some of reason, none of us even really thought of picking up the paper even while in Leh), barely any connection to the world we left behind except for quick calls home assuring family that we were indeed alive. Or maybe it was simply Ladakh - long hours spent hiking, or driving and just soaking in the beauty of these mighty ranges, the nights spent lost in one of the best night skies we have ever seen.

The iPhone 3G has been launched in India, Bihar has seen a flood, J&K is worse off, Salman and Shah Rukh seemed to have made up, and Air Deccan is no longer Air Deccan. A lot has happened.

The hope for today is to laze around at Leh Café. Maybe chew on a book. And maybe search for stoles and jewelry to break the monotony of lazing around. A one last visit to the Shanti Stupa for a view of Leh sprawled below and the unreality of the mountains would be a perfect ending. A day of endless possibilities...

PS: Yes, we made it to Shanthi Stupa for one last time after all...

PS 2: Did I already mention it? It was glorious 15 days! And reality hurts!

Lying down on the terrace of Shanthi Stupa on our first visit

The lay of Leh beneath us

Ladakh Calling...

2008-07-27T14:17:00.009+05:30

Yes. It has been calling out to me for a while. Since a friend's motorcycle trip couple of years back. Since my trip to Sikkim. Since my realization, life is too dynamic and anything can happen waiting for another opportunity. Since I read Pico Iyes's "Heaven's Gate" on the NY Times travel magazine. And when a close friend from undergrad and a colleague signed up, it was a definite sign. We were going to Ladakh this summer. :)

I have been waiting to blog about the upcoming trip, since it was more or less decided. But you know the thing about counting-chickens-before-they-hatch. However, last week, we finally made the formal "commitment" and booked our flight tickets into Leh and back! I can't wait - fifteen days just to revel in, soak in and take in the mountains.

In the book, 'Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance', the author explains why he does not like road trips in a car. I can not recollect his exact words. But in essence he says, being in a car, you are in someways disconnected from the environment you are in. You are an outsider watching the landscapes, while not being a part of it yourself. I feel exactly the same way (though I know a lot of people who are road trip crazy won't agree to this). And so I hope, (dearly hope) to see the mountains as much by foot.

On the other hand, trekking the place also means I cover lesser area, lesser places in the same time. Already I have people asking me "You aren't doing the Leh-Manali route? But you have to! It is one of the best roads ever". Or, "You have to go to Nubra or .....". While they say it with good intentions, and are probably right about those places, I wish people understood that at some level, every trip is different, and every traveller different. For some, it is to see all that they can see. For some, it is to see one thing but see it well. Sometimes, you are lucky, and you do a bit of both. Sometimes, you take the chance to see a not-so-talked-about place, but are unlucky, and end up spending time in a place you didn't like. Some like long sumo journeys, some don't. Some are budget travellers, doesn't matter what their bank balance. Some are the luxury travellers, doesn't matter what their bank balance. And sometimes, you are simply good with your travel research and have your reasons for what you chose to do. (:))

It's hard enough, that when you plan a trip, it is more easy to find tons of places people praise about, rather than find places people honestly say they didn't vibe with or didn't care about. So, even as you research and sternly tell yourself, you want to do quality vs. quantity, somehow the quantity bit keeps popping up in your head urging you to squeeze more in that you can. And then, if I were honest with myself, there is that need to bring back badges, stories and adventures. I already find myself lured into places simply because that guide book says "From here you can see the mighty peaks of the Karakoram", just so I can bring back names and moments others can ooh aah to.

When I started on the "research" for this trip, I called up Mridula, travel blogger and honorary advisor (:)) for her insights. I asked her "There seems to be so many regions to go to, and each raved as very beautiful and seems to fall in the cannot-miss category. Can you order them in your opinion which is the best, most beautiful to go to?". She said, "Each and every part of Ladakh is beautiful. It won't matter. Don't worry, you are just going to love it." I loved her answer.

Anyway, I hope to keep both above-mentioned urges at bay, and do what I really really really want to do - take our time, and trek the mountains. It doesn't matter if the trail chosen is a disappointment or if it is plain regular. And with time to spare, we may ultimately do the road trips too!

If you are wondering, all the "I"s in the post, and where is the "we", well, this is what I want to do ideally... But, won't know until it all unfolds!

Random City Photos...

2008-07-13T14:40:00.002+05:30

In need of a friend

2008-07-13T14:19:00.004+05:30

I saw this fellow as I was criss crossing through Greenwich village and West village. He was patiently waiting for his owner to return, who I presumed was picking up something from the nearby bakery or grocery store. The neighbourhood was filled with owners walking their dogs, playing with them. They all appeared to be the working kind, I wondered how they took care of their pets during the day. Sigh! I could do with some company and love and affection from a four feeted, tail wagging, adoring eyed friend...

Shopping Pilgrimage, NY

2008-07-06T14:45:00.006+05:30

"So, did you travel around when you were in New York? "

Me : "well, you know, my trip gets so hectic with work and meeting friends, there's hardly time to plan... "

"So what do you do then on weekends?"

Me: "ah well... just exploring neighbourhoods... and walking around... and well, (sheepishly) shopping!"

Ok -I confess! It has been all about shopping and shopping, that I have hardly bothered even thinking about stepping outside and exploring new places. I have been to New York twice, and both times, it has been like a trip to the Mecca of fashion. I am almost possessed to make sure I have seen, tried, shopped (where I can) and window shopped all that I can. Well, shopping is another flavor to experience a city by. And definitely, shopping in New York has been an experience.

The city is all about brands -Gucci, Prada, Dolce Gabana, Ralph Lauren, and their slightly smaller cousins - Kenneth Cole, Nine west, Aldo, Sephora, Ann Taylor. I am not a brand conscious person myself, and pride myself on several (actually I should say mostly) "brand-less" great "buys". But there is that kick to be able to indulge in an expensive brand without worrying about the economics. Once in a while, instead of looking at the price tag and walking away, you want to say "what the hell, I like it, I want it, so I am going to get it". I love it! (Of course, this didn't apply to Saks or the ralph lauren's where I ended up doing what any sel-respecting shopper would do - take an "I've been to Saks" photo!)

Yes! We can't stop shopping.

And most importantly, I just love the variety available in terms, of sizes, cuts, fits... it is amazing what they can do to a simple white blouse! And the idea that my size falls into a more "average" range and the fact that I can find a beautiful fit in almost any shop I walk into most often makes up for the relatively expensive price tags.

A Ralph Lauren window display in West Village

There is shopping. Then there is this window shopping. Window shopping is a lot more fun, simply because there is no pressure to find something immediately. And of course, the real twist is that you should leave room for the chance that you may actually buy something. Setting out with a clear mindset of "not to buy" could be a damper. Anyways, so while there was shopping, there was also window shopping.

Random window displays in West Village

On one weekend in my last trip, I was in West Village. The idea was to window shop and explore the neighbourhood. I kept getting drawn into these quaint boutiques dealing in body oils and perfumes and the likes. Just losing yourself in the heady mix of fragrance in these places is amazing. And the shop attendants, donned in aprons introduce you into an unknown world of self indulgence as if they themselves were the creators of each of these concoctions.

The last one I entered was Sabon. Dim-lit, and designed with an antique touch, lined with bottles of body lotions, bathing salts and hand made soap. As soon as I entered, the person in charge asked me if I wanted a hand wash? They were offering free samples of bathing salt for a hand wash. I was then offered an array of flavors to choose from. He explains "oh, that is the patchoulli vanilla lavender, my personal favorite. I usually don't prefer vanilla myself. But just a touch of lavender balances the sweetness", "smell this, don't you love it?", "and this just has a subtle nutmeggy fragrance", and then proceeds to paint a picture of how each would work wonders. The hand wash was followed with matching lotions and of course flattery on how soft my hands now felt. I almost swooned at the indulgent sales pitch I had, and yes, there is a vanilla lavender body creme sitting on my dresser.

Inside Sabon

Just as much as this self-pandering variety of shopping can be an experience, so can hunting in smaller localities and tucked-in-a-corner-shop be. Last year, I checked out a sunday market right in the middle of 7th av. With stalls selling crepes, kashmiri carpets, the best of Dolce Gabana handbags for $20 and bohemeian jewellery, it almost reminded me of the fairs (the annual shilparamam sale in Hyderabad, the Linking road or Colaba Causeway market in Mumbai, Panthean road/Beasant Nagar beach Chennai for the best cotton there is and pondy bazaar in Chennai) back in India. And of course, there was also an half a day escapade to China Town, for hand bags and stone studded rings that we ended up falling in love with.

The sunday market on 7th Av

Now back at home, even as I advise my friend on where she can order stuff from or ask her brother to pick it up for her, I check myself. I realize it isn't all about just buying and owning things. The best of shopping is going through the whole process of checking out the array of options, mentally building images of what you want, letting the object of desire call out to you and grow on you, and ultimately allowing yourself to be seduced into the buy.

A flower that caught my eye, West Village

New Place, New Home, New Beginnings

2008-06-01T01:10:00.017+05:30

Imagine altering your whole life to be in a place you fell in love with. A holiday that keeps you longing to go back, an opportune house that comes up for sale - and lo and behold, you have moved lock stock and barrel to start a new life as a wine maker or a teacher. The concept is thoroughly fascinating. Its like inventing a new life for yourself.

I first fell in love with the idea when I saw the movie "Under the Tuscan Sun". It is one of those movies that make you wish "if I could do something like that". In this movie, recent divorcee (portrayed by Diane Lane) is pushed into a trip to Tuscany by her friend. During the trip, Diane is led astray by a house she sees, and on a whim buys it. The rest of the movie is about her discovering Tuscany, and making a new house and life for herself. Beautiful. Though the movie has a run-on-the-mill end, I loved it. The movie is based on a book "Under the Tuscan Sun" by Frances Mayes, which is about a couple who move to Tuscany. I haven't managed to grab a copy of it yet, but its on my travel reading list!

Peter Mayle's 'A year in Provence' is about his first twelve months in Provence after he and his wife and two dogs make the move to the little town, having fallen in love with it during their vacations there. He says "We had been there (Provence) before, always desperate for our ration of two or three weeks of true heat and sharp light. Always when we left, with peeling noses and regret we promised ourselves that one day, we would live here. And now, somehow to our surprise we had done it. We had bought a house, taken French lessons, and aid our goodbyes, shipped over our two dogs and become foreigners." Particularly enjoyable is his style of writing. Especially, where he describes the idiosyncrasies of the French, he brings out the humour with such indulgence; in a way one would tease an old friend. Though, on second thought he was not as considerate about the English.

In this NYTIMES article,"Guatemala as muse and a base for a writer" authoress Joyce Maynard talks about how she buys a second home in Guatamela. She spends four months in a year in this place writing, conducting her workshops and of course enjoying the country. The article says she had no intention of owning a home in Guatemala when she set out to travel there seven years ago with her daughter, Audrey, who was studying Spanish in a Guatemalan school. On her stone patio one recent morning, Ms. Maynard, recalled the conversation that changed the course of her life. “I said, ‘I so envy you, Aud, for getting to be here and study your Spanish,’ and she said, ‘What’s stopping you, Mama?’ ” Dramatic pause. “And I realized, ‘Nothing!’ ” She had been divorced for over a decade. The youngest of her three children, Will, had just finished high school. Her older son, Charlie, was in college. Her work as a writer required only a laptop. She was supposed to be traveling on to Hawaii, but cashed in her ticket and rented a house for eight months. The longer she stayed, the more certain she became that she had stumbled on the next chapter of her life story.

Though ofcourse, all the romaticism in starting a new life is somewhat curbed by the practicalities of the cost involved. This seems to restrict such fantasies to the more privilged. But then there are those bohemnian travellers out there who take a long break - six months, a year or 2, move to a new country, hire an apartment, settle to do anything - waiting on tables, teaching, being shop attendants - just to experience a life in a new place, a new country. This is as romantic as moving entirely to new place - and possibly a more practicable option for some of us. Maybe someday ... We all dream on...

"Mishandled"

2008-05-18T10:11:00.006+05:30

Blue, black, black, black, black ... and yet another black bag on the conveyer belt with no signs of wine ... I had been standing there for more than twenty minutes and was going through my usual post flying trauma of "will it or will it not come?". It never seems to matter what kind of bags I carry or whether I am the first to check it in - my bags are usually the last to arrive. And, by the time it appears, I've almost decided that it is lost, and am shedding invisible tears for my preciously hand picked pieces of colthing and shoes (the only valuables I usually carry and mean more than the money that got them).

We had landed some 30 minutes back, and my bags hadn't yet arrived. I was absently observing to myself "Did you know that a vast majority of the luggage is black? Wine is proving to be an infinitely cooler choice". Another 10 minutes .... and slowly there were whispers.. "Bags mishandled". "problems in heathrow". What seemed like half the plane was still around me, how could so many bags be "mishandled". Was this some kind of a joke?

Apparently not. Or rather a poor one if it was. BA had finally managed to do what seems usually unimaginable and set a new record that night. They had left behind luggages of 80 people. But, one thing that worked in their favor seemed to be the time. Landing at early morning 2 o clock, after a 17 hour flight seemed to have mellowed down people. Some were ranting that "BA is known for this". One lady actually said that this was the second time it happened to her, and last time she didnt get her bags back. Why she flew BA again, i couldnt fathom! But people were definitely bonding over there mishap.

Personally, at 2 o clock, the whole thing just seemed unreal. Also, I seemed to have become a veteran at losing things (cell phone, luggage - this is my third major luggage incident in last five years), that my acceptance levels have risen up considerable. And I swear, my new Kenneth cole shoes and Sephora makeup didn't race through my eyes. But thankfully for me, my bags did arrive two days later. But for those who didn't know (like me), BA has the highest rate of mishandled bags - so be prepared!!!

PS: Yes. BA does have highest rate of mishandled bags. Though they have a decent enough system for tracking your bags. Only crib is that, for a long time, the status was just "tracking", it would have been better if it had said "identified. in london. waiting for shipping details"!

The Luggage Headache

2008-03-30T13:14:00.015+05:30

If there is one aspect of making a trip that I find very tedious, it's packing. Not just what to pack, but which bag to pack in. Deciding which bag is as difficult as planning the entire trip. In fact its probably more difficult. Over the years, I have collected an assortment of luggage ranging from day packs to back packs, air bags, suitcases - and every single time I have always bought a bag too small or too big or too heavy or too something other. And obviously, every single trip - I am left with the feeling that I don't have the "right" piece of luggage.

And no surprise, just as I am about to leave for a month long trip, I have been gripped by the same paranoia of "deciding the luggage". This time, the decision was further complicated as I had to buy a new bag - therefore instead of choosing between the 5 to 10 options from my collection, the choice is thrown open to 1000's of brands, sizes, shapes, materials, features and blah. Color of course is limited!

So finally, I chose a shop close by , spent couple of hours discussing at length the pros and cons and picked up a wine colored Giordano 28 inch suit case ideal for travel for longer than a fortnight. Well - happy ending right? So one would like to think. Instead, I come home - and the bag appears far too big than it is supposed to have been. I am concerned - should I have gotten one size smaller? I call my mom, crib to her for a while. I spend a sleepless night. First thing in the morning - I am on the net, looking for information - and guess what? I couldn't find anything!!! called up few colleagues, bothered my frequent flying friend. Called the shop manager, got myself an "exception" to exchange. And even after which I couldn't decide what to do - to exchange or not to. Ultimately, I decided I cannot let such a minor event ruin my peace of mind (though the cost of it isn't minor) and did the "pick a chit" test which said stay with this bag. So that's the end of the matter.

But for those who are as confused as me, I finally found this price chart - thanks to luggage online luggageonline.com and some infor from about.com. Though, I am still not entirely convinced with my purchase. :)

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Price chart from luggageonline.com.

Anyway - what one really needs is a luggage invention which can change into different forms and sizes. And if it can gauge the owner's mind and pack itself - nothing like it.

PS: I am surprised that a lot of people actually agreed with me on this one when I thought, maybe, I was in fact spoilt for choice. I agree with girl with big eyes' sugesstion of use and return. Personally, I would prefer it if the luggage shops had items like shoes, clothes, business suits, cosmetics kits - so one can actually pack it in in the shop to get an idea. I feel that is the most difficult part of the purchase - trying to visualize what a bag can hold.

In my case, the extendible bag proved to be a good choice to fit in all my shopping. so women - definitely go for that one!!

The Lost Continent...

2008-03-23T13:02:00.008+05:30

Finally O finally, I managed to complete this book. I dont know if it was me or if it was the book or it was just the way it was meant to be - but i ended up dozing off more often with this book than I did with my CFA books!

Bill Bryson talks about the road trip he undertakes across the American continent touching all except for 10 states. The book had a promising start. He starts of by saying "I come from Des Moine- somebody had to". He has a sarcastic wit which is entertaining - but gets tedious as you get deeper into the book. I can understand his disappointment that the small town America he knew no longer existed, nevertheless, his comments that the every town had mindlessly let malls and McDonalds take over becomes repitive when he describes about 85% of the towns that way. Halfway down the book I was reminded of the narrative style of J.D.Salinger's in 'Catcher in the Rye'. In my honourable opinion, it would have been nicer if he had not taken the pains to explain the drawbacks of every motel he had stayed in. And he had dropped his cynism levels a tad bit.

But truth be said, I agreed with him on some things, though these could be true for any country and not just America. Many small towns lack individuality - but probably to be expected given the continents size and unfortunately, limited number of phyical features available to land. I also disliked the tourist crowds in Yosemite and Niagara (though Niagara doesnt star in this book). A number of "spots" are more about the advertisement - 'a tourist trap' he calls them. Lastly, if America stopped spending, the rest of us would definitely be in trouble :).

The good parts - I like the sections where he enjoys the place. I like his discovery of lesser populated places such as the appalachians, the region around the great lakes. In fact, Lake Erie is on my must see list, if and when I ever go back. He also flavors his writing with a lot of titbits on people, their origin, accents etc. As he drives through the appalachians, he describes this tribe which has features such as eye color etc like the whites, but has a dark skin tone. Quite interesting. He also reminisces a lot about "his days" and how America has changed since then.

Overall - do not be dissuaded by my initial comments. Bill Bryson is supposed to be a well liked and appreciated author...!

On The High Seas of Mumbai

2008-02-21T23:51:00.012+05:30

Last Saturday, me and a few friends went to check out the cultural festival held in Elephanta caves, hoping to catch a ferry ride, see elephant caves lit, get a bit of culture in our lives and of course strike out a few Mumbai-must-do's. While the festival and the caves itself are going to turn up in a different post, I couldn't stop myself from writing about the ferry ride from Gateway to Elephanta.

The timing was perfect. We left Gateway at around 6, right in time to catch the sun setting behind the Mumbai skyline. After being in this city for 8 months, you don't believe its possible to find space anywhere. Terms such as "fresh" "unpolluted" just don't exist. One gets so seeped into the crowds of the city, that one almost forgets the openness of the sea. So it was not until we pulled away that it hit me - the sound of lapping waves, clean unpolluted air, and just being on the sea. The twilight seascape was quite fantastic too. The sea was lined with yatchs, then barges, and what looked like oil rig kind of ships - all balzing with lights - giving the sea a true "night-life".

The second highlight of course is that I truly like some of the photos I clicked. And I hope you like them too. Most are unedited, couple are sharpened!

Ferries Sidling Away On the Coast

Away from the madding crowd

Mumbai SkyLine

A barge on the Mumbai Coast

Sailing High Seas

All eyes on the Deck

This and That

2008-02-15T21:58:00.005+05:30

Long time no see. I am kind of brimming with things to say, of things which are of importance in the context of enriching your day and at the same time not so important from a larger than life perspective.

Before I start my ramble – no, these are not really travel things, ‘cos though some don’t seem to realize it, I have a job to do and unfortunately, a job that doesn’t have too much linked to travel, unless of course it’s the incidental kind, and like a lesser mortal, need a lot of my weekends for boring activities like sleep, sleep some more, hopefully read and of course watch desperate housewives. I know I started a travel blog and all, and did a glorious and seemingly adventurous trip, but starting of a conversation with “hey – so where are u these days”, as if I may be in Timbuktu (not that I don’t wish I were, though Macchu Picchu is more on my list these days) or “so, how come no trips anymore?”, as if ‘travel’ were my sole reason for existence, would definitely be taking my interest in this pass time too far ( though, I am ofcourse flattered witout doubt!). :)). And realistically speaking, I lack company to make even the easiest of trips – like to Goa – I know, sounds unbelievable, the gal that conquered Sikkim has yet to set eyes on Goa (at least at an age that counts which renders my trip in class 4 with mom, dad and sis uncountable), but that’s life or so some say.

So, yes, my travel "visibility" for the year does indeed look bleak, except for escapes to Chennai.

Incidentally, talking about travel, my lead analyst was in Barcelona last week for a conference. Sounds exotic huh? Or so I thought a year back when I was getting interviewed and my collegue mnetioned that my boss was in Barcelona. Anyway, it appears that it may take years before I get to go. Plus, not sure if I want to after talking to my boss. He's been there for 5-6 times now, and he pretty much hasnt seen anything beyond the hotel where he stays and the conference center. And the airport. And same applies for Shangai, Seoul and Taipei. So much for work travel!

Anyway, now for some aforementioned common place topics.

I have opened my eyes to a Bombay I didn’t know. A late night drive in search of ‘rock bottom’ (into which we were denied entry as we lacked socks which would have seemingly covered otherwise uncovered feet, and would have been deemed as better character assessment over our weighty visiting cards) – and I lay my eyes on almost the entire stretch of linking road. Furhter exploration of Khar/linking road leads me to decide that this is the place to live in. And yea, shop in as well if you have a loaded purse.

Few weekends before, I landed up in Matunga – the “Southie Mumbai” not to be mistaken with ‘South Mumbai’. Never has the sight of Nalli Silk Sarees made me feel more at home than it did then. And, yea, I ended up buying a sari over there as well (possibly, making me the only south Indian who sought to look for a Kancheepuram silk sari in Mumbai when I was leaving for Chennai in a couple of weeks). Well, the shop was small, with lesser options than the original (incidentally, this Nalli is not the same as orginal Nalli in Chennai, too many sari shops going by the name Nalli, have they run out of names or what?), but the few saris they had were quite nice, and I managed to like 3 of ‘em! And of course the hot pongal vadai, and masal dosai meal all for less than 25/- that we had on the road side- definitely unmatchable.

Anyway, inspired, I managed to track down a ‘dosa atta vendor’ who will deliver fresh atta with six hours lead time. Got my maid to make thakali vengaya chutney as well as urulakezhangu masala. The ease with which a crisp dosa rolls of your non stick pan with a dash of oil – I may even consider taking up cooking again. Anyways, getting my maid to do some south indian dishes, and i feel like i have accomplished something!

I unfortunately missed the Kala Ghoda festival, which is quite talked about. But am headed for the elephanta festival today. Food stalls, night lights and pictures!!!So, yeay!

Anyway, I am tired of rambling - but rest assured, I have begun to accept life as is in BBy!

When life was a one long summer

2008-02-02T14:03:00.002+05:30

The description on a photo exhibit in the NY library

It’s interesting what thoughts take you, when you lie back on your oversized beanbag and have nothing better to do but let your mind wander. Today, actually for some days now, my thoughts have been running away to summers. Summers, despite all the heat and humidity, bring out the best in me. And the welcome of summer, a lightness to my life. Anyways, for some reason - the summers at this house kept coming back.

We had just moved into this new house a few months back. It was one of those regular rectangular houses, with a portico and a small garden in the front and bigger one in the back. Looking back, my father with his intention to fancy the house up, may have inadvertently removed some of the old-day charm in it. Next to our house, was another old bungalow with its colonial style intact? I loved this house. With the old red cement flooring, slightly high roofs, and two dominating columns in the veranda - it was a house I looked on from the outside and dreamt off. The walls were bordered with bougainvillea and there were lots of trees, but nothing organised. The whole house had a 'rambling' feel about it. Its occupant was an old lady, 'Shantha aunty'. She had never married and for a long time had stayed alone. The stray cats in her house were company until another friend came along.

It was summer holidays. A warm afternoon. I can’t remember how old I was, but it was my birthday. I was in this white frock with pink flowers - I loved this dress. Sadly, I don’t believe I have any photos of this one at all. I remember standing on the bench in our portico, and looking over the wall and talking to Shantha aunty -I was telling her how I had been ill the previous day. Sometimes, I’d balance myself on the Neem tree, which broke the compound wall, to talk to her - or to climb over to her house.

She would invite me and my sister to "pick" nellikai (small sized gooseberries), and we of course would end up eating more than picking. We'd spend afternoons making custard, jelly and pudding - dishes only read off till then. Once, when one of her cats had kittens, me and my sis (in one of the rare moments we were united against my parents) picked up one of the kittens, and tried to make a pet of it. I can’t remember how that one ended - but my parents most likely asked us to give it back.

I liked my house too, despite its lack of style. I loved climbing the compound walls. My room on the first floor was like my own private quarters. It made me feel all grownup to have a room. I used to keep lifting furniture from the rest of the house to 'do up' my room. The large kitchen - warm and well, large. There used to be an outhouse- cold and damp. During summer vacations, when I was steeped in famous fives and five findouters, I’d pretend it was the "secret headquarters". I in fact had a password when my cousins were around and we'd play detective. Since we had our own private terrace, we started the habit of making vadams. I also liked the balcony, partly covered by the Neem tree. On many a hot nights, we had dinners here.

We went through a whole life full here, but most of all, I remember the summers. Rather, life itself seemed like one long summer. Picking mangoes. Gardening or at least trying to (nobody in my family seems to have been gifted with green fingers). Running around the house. My grand mom and sis spending hours playing the daya kattai (ludo) or pallanguzhi (a game with shells). Me, either pouring over some book, or getting burnt in the sun cycling with my friends. Standing outside the house, and having long talks with friends. And fights with my sister. Once she was so wild, she actually got the aruval and threatened to hit me. And of course, spending time at Shantha aunty's house.

We lived there for almost 8-9 years. Even after we moved out, everytime I went by the lane, I’d look at the house or both houses and think it seemed like a dream that we had lived here. Today neither house is around. Instead, there's a huge apartment in their place. Right in your face and unreal.

Sikkim Travelogue

2008-01-18T13:07:00.001+05:30

Finally - after so many tries, and inspiration from my friends one-shot narration - here's my Sikkim trip accounts and some pictures. Now I plan to zip up abt Sikkim for quite a while now!

22nd December Mumbai/Chennai – Delhi –Bagdogara - Gangtok

Sleepless night, early morning flight – tiring! The gang met in Delhi – made fun of and embarrassed sis (cant seem to stop myself, and in my defense she does the same!). Flights are such a drag, so whiled away Delhi to Bagdogra by wondering if we should rag the airhostesses and cracking up. Ride to Gangtok was beautiful, with Teesta for company. Decided Momos were not our ‘plate of snacks’. Our first landslide experience was a 30 min stop in the drive. Shocked by nightfall at 5.30. Dinner at 9 – we were the only souls roaming around Gangtok.

23rd and 24th December Gangtok – Lachung (stayover) –Katao –Lachung – Yumthang – Zero point –Lachung –Gangtok

Yep- Days 2/3 were a long road trip with most of the time spent inside a Mahindra Maxx with a family from Calcutta. It was a family of 6, with the 2 women nagging their men, particularly one lady yelling ALL the time. The 2 spoilt brats of daughters couldn’t have sulked more – in fact I felt like slapping them and asking them to behave- luckily, they were not my kids. The trip started of auspiciously with us and the family fighting for ‘preferred seats’ in the Maxx. And the lady continued to yell more often than not – to keep us company – until we and then the driver told her to shut up. Seriously, I would have hated myself if I kept nagging like that. Of course, for us the funny family was an added entertainment other than being a mild irritant – so no hassles.

Loved Lachung. Loved the drive from Chungthang to Lachung. The feeling of driving down to a valley surrounded by gigantic and humbling mountains was beautiful. Infact, it was “night” when we started our descent and all we could see was a cluster of lights from the village cradled between stern, tall rock faces standing like guards – it almost felt like this town was hidden from the outside –like a Shangri-la (Lost Horizon, James Hilton – I loved this book btw, and they don’t write like this anymore!).

Woke up 4 in the morning to Katao – it was once again a fantastic drive. Freezing cold morning, but still managed a quick hike beyond the final driving point. Saw sun rise over the mountains – a beautiful sight. Its lovely how the sky turns pink, peach and golden, colors I haven’t seen before on the sky. Then to Yumthang and zero point – both a slight disappointment in comparison. Lunch at Katao resorts, Lachung. Loved lazing around in the terrace, by the log shelf – the location felt like a swiss cabin house (or what I think a swiss cabin house could be!) – would have loved to spend the afternoon cuddled around a book right here on that terrace – but had to head back to Gangtok!

25th December Gangtok – Kewzing

More driving – today we were off to Kewzing. A late start and a 3-4 hours drive passing through lovely tea gardens, it was well after 4 when we reached. A welcome ‘ceremony’ in the Kewzing monsatry and a hike to our homestay. It was almost night (5:00 p.m) before we got settled. At our pleading references to “hikes”, Mr.prez took us around the village on a one –two hour hike. The lepcha monastry burning bright atop the hill was a lovely sight. A nice campfire, starry skies, a taste of ‘chang’, classic rock songs (for once loved mobile phones) finished with a hot tasty dinner.

26th December Kewzing

Today was monastery day – hiked through village – we were totally in love with these cute wooden bhutia house by now (not to mention the priceless location!). On through a cardamom forests for a nice hour to Bon Monastery’ (an older form of Buddhism, and this is one of the oldest monastry or Gompa for ‘Bon’) – then on to Lepcha monastery or Mangbrue monastery.

Our hike from Bon to lepcha was exceptional starting of behind an old colonial house passing through Stupa ruins, views of the beautiful valley and river Rangit. On the whole, a fantastic trek!

We loved this spot - I thought this point made a good suicide point - but others thought it would be too bloody.

Afternoon spent outside gazing at mountains, warming in front of fire, with what my sis calls ‘soul to soul’ conversations with her! Then a lost cell phone, a night hike (no lights except for the stars! Ok, alright, I had a small torch, though I tried to keep it shut when i could) with the search party, and a scary, scintillating village fight to spice the stay and day!

27th December Kewzing – Reshi hot springs – Tashiding Monastry – Legship –Yuksom
After goodbyes to the bhutia family and loads of last minute pics, we set of to Reshi - hot springs or tatopani were a disappointment and didnt match up to my vision of a jacuzzi in the middle of a seculded forest. Drove to Tashiding monastery. 40 min walk according to our driver took nearly 2 good hours including our breaks - headed to Yuksom, hungry and even more hungry. Maggi and rounds of literature for the night - the latter after a long long time!

28th December Kanchendzonga
Today's plan was to trek in Kahnchendznga national park. We targetted the second bridge (6km one way). Interesting route filled with lose rocks and loose mud has all concentrating on every step. I love trekking like that, where all your six senses are tuned into gauging ur next step, foothold. Tiring, but fun! Supposed to Dubdi monastry and a couple of ASI sites- gave it a pass.

29th December Yuksom - Khecheoplari - Pelling - Kalimpong
Started off to Khecheoplari. This trail was once again different from any of the other we had done - and most tiring as most of it was uphill. Lake itself wasnt very pretty. Lit lamps for wishes. Savored the truly fantastic maggi and steaming chai. Quick stop at Rabdintse. Another short hike to the palace - the palace is perched almost at the edge of mountains and the location is breathtaking. Continued to search for the Kanchendzonga peak - which proved elusive. Landed in Kalimpong when town was half asleep for a halt.

30th December Kalimpong -Malli (rafting)- silguri
Rafting started at Malli (2km from) Kalimpong to 29th mile - yep, lots of places are named in just miles like 4th mile, 5th mile! Not sure if this rafting was better than dandeli or not, though dandeli is more professionally organized, but was fun. And cold - the raft-man tells us 'u jump once, u'll want to do it over and over again' - we did ,and we realised that he meant 'if u havent frozen to death already, jump in again!'. Cold rafting followed by some hot and spicy samosa chat. Night at Silguri spent watching 'Welcome' and no the movie isnt welcome. though i was in splits mre because i was in a cranky mood rather than the movie.

The gang that went - all ready to raft

31st Back to Mumbai
And finally we were off to Mumbai. flight delay by 3-4 hours - more literature - strategising on how to handle the 45 min trfr time at calcutta for sister's chn flight. in the end, it all worked out. Spent the whole day in airports- slipped into bed, the moment i got back and slept through new years!

Not so frequently found answers on Sikkim

2008-01-14T12:31:00.000+05:30

While planning for Sikkim, I found a lot of information on some of the popular destinations or packages like the Yumthang valley tour or the Nathulla pass tour. However, I was looking for some info beyond this and found it on one or two rare websites. So have decided to put these titbits and some knowledge gained on the trip down here –

View from Kewzing of Kabru and Narsingh

1.Sun Down by 5:30
Traveling in Decembers, the sun down time came as a shock – yea, the sun sets by 5:30and by 6 it feels like 11 in the night. And yea, in most of the places, Gangtok inclusive, most restaurants etc shut by 9. So ideally, try fighting the biting cold and waking up early to maximise your day, cos not much is possible beyond sun down!

2.Who needs Avomines???
The first thing that struck us and we all loved about Sikkim – hardly any hair pin bends. After fear of being nauseous for the whole trip, it was a pleasant shock that we didn’t feel the “uphillness” at all – not even to the levels one feels while in ooty or kodai! Ofcourse, Ofcourse, the Yumthang to Zero point stretch is an exception to the case – but otherwise, the whole drving experience turned out to be not too tiring and good fun!

3. Allocated stands for Cabs
All cabs, depending on the part of Sikkim they ply to, are segregated and have specific stands they are allocated to. So you will need to transfer to a local cab (Maruti Omni's) from these cab stands.

4. TAAS (http://www.taasindia.com/)
There is a sikkim travel agents association called TAAS. Their website lists a number of travel agents. In most cases, the travel agents suggested that we come to Gangtok and make payments - we were just asked to keep them informed in advance - may not be the case in peak season.

5. Most Landlines don’t work. So don’t bother with those.
In my case, none of the landlines I tried worked. And after 3-4 days of banging my head I gave up. My theory is that these lines are probably down due to landslides which are common in the state. And now with prevalence of mobiles, people must have stopped bothering about landlines. Mobile connectivity was good in most places.

6. Accomodation
By friend has done an exhaustive feedback on all places we stayed. You can check it out here: Sikkim for Travelers
Katao Resorts : I particularly loved this place in Lachung. It was arranged through Dreamland Tours and Travels.
Deki Lodge: This place in Sikkim was also a great pick!
Yangrigang: This is the best available in Yuksom - so says it all!

7. Dal , Chaaval and Aaloo
well, that was our meal in most places! I was quite surprised to dfind that rice instead of rotis is the staple here. And for some reason, veggies were limited to aaloo, gobi and mattar!

8. ECOSS
is an NGO which has been working towards creating homestays is several villages. I came across their Sikkim homestay program from their website . Though their website lists just Dzongu, they have it in other places such as Naitam. You can contact Mr. Adrian Parkhin from ECOSS who was also very helpful with out itinerary and trip planning.
Contact: Adrian Parkhin 9733003300

9. Kewzing Tourism Development Comittee
For Kewzing, there is a community based organization KTDC which manages the homestay program. We loved our 2 days here and I would have loved to base myself in this place for more than couple of days. The cost of homestays (not just in Kewzing) is however slightly more expensive as compared to Sikkim average standards, but the experience was worth it.
Contact : Yugen Bhutia, President, +919434865154

10.The homestays are geared largely for foreigners
I think it would be difficult for Indians to get taken in by some of the stuff as it is possible that u might have seen this in your own houses or villages. But definitely, staying in a bhutia house, hot home cooked food, campfire at night, meeting people, and hikes around the village was beautiful. We loved this place

11.Arranging Treks
Ok - everyone i spoke to kept advising me 'land up and figure it out'. While this is good advice for people who have done it before, it just left me clueless - where to look for guides, how to go about arranging it? Though, I dont think i finally figured it out completely!-

In gangtok, the regular travel agents help arrange for guides, and porters for any trek. One agent i spoke to mentioned that it was possible to get sleeping bags for hire too. Not sure if travel agents are the best option, however. One can also talk to drivers - they have good contacts.

In Yuksom, we contacted Tensing Bhutia of Yangrigang. We had vaguely heard of a one "Mr.Bhutia" who helped arrange treks - and we managed to track him down. Very helpful with planning our itenerary here. Contact : 9434164408 / 9474351279 / 03595-241217

12. Trek routes
I was looking for doing some treks which could start of near Kewzing, to avoid any more driving than necessary... these were some of the options i came up with.

Tendong hill trek, can be done from Damthang. From Rabongla, the road splits one way for Damthang and another for Kewzing. Kewzing to Rabongala is an hour walk. Kewzing to Damthang maybe an hour and a half drive.
In Kewzing, if u are halting for more number of days, there is a route to trek to reshi hot springs - 2 to 3 hours one way, i think.
The Reshi hot springs as such wasn't so great - it is definitely a miss, except for maybe the trek. Couldn't find info about any other hotsprings, which are more hidden and lesser known.
Kewzing is a good place to base yourself, if in south sikkim. You can do the oldest Bon Monastry and Lepcha Monastry from here as well. Tolung monsatry which also has a lovely "jungle walk" leadign to it can be done - but you may need to drive a bit from Kewzing.
From Rabongala, also there are lot of options. On a wall, there was a map painted which indicated a lake, a very tall buddha and couple of monastries in the area.
As for trekkking between towns, these are a few options: Yuksom - Khecheoplari, Khecheoplari - Pelling, Pelling - Yuksom - these are not mentioned in too many places. Lots of small places can be trekked, but call an agent in the area to check.
Khedi trek. There is a KHEDI Ecotourism & Ecodevelopment Promotion department, but like mentioned above, the landlines werent working. So couldnt fine much information. This starts from Pastenga.
For moderate trekkers, we were able to do 14-16 km in 7 hours which includes breaks. This I think is a good gauge for people unsure of how much they can do in a day.

13. Jeeps?
Initially, we were not able to get much info on how often jeeps ply betweent towns. But after landing up there, we found jeeps are the way to get between any two places and almost equates to public transport. But, using these local jeeps would also mean a lot of "waiting" time to get one- as i dont think these are too frequent. So, if you have a sizeable group, and are short on time, it may make sense to hire one for ur group - although you may miss the "true wing it your way" experience.

14. Seeing the Kanchejunga
I am still not sure if we saw the Kanchenjunga peak from Gangtok. I believe it is more visible from Pelling???

15. Rafting
While Malli close to Kalimpong is the most popular one, you can also do it at Legship as well as Chungthang in the North.

16. Our Best find : The perfect map of Sikkim
We found this perfect map hanging in a restaurant at Legship, and in my opinion, its the best map of Sikkim i have come across so far. Most of the maps of Sikkim i saw (online) didn't offer these many details - were there were details, the map was split into 4!!! This was the only one which showed all places i wanted to see (Temi, Damthang, Kewzing, Reshi, Rabongla...) Anyway, sadly these are not in ciculation according to the owner. Well, what else are digi cams for??!!!

15. Other Links:
The Blue Yonder (www.blueyonder.com) - For sample itenararies
Arun on Sikkim : Yumthang Valley
Arun's trip report to Geochala
Mridula on Sikkim
Sikkim Trekking Tour guide - lovely trek options
FAQ from Mridula - she has a lot more posts on Sikkim, so poke around
Tendong Hill from Escape Artist
Geochala Pass Trek Account on Travelpod - here is how we tracked down Tensing Bhutia
Things to do in Sikkim

Where dreams come true - Khecheoplari

2008-01-08T18:42:00.000+05:30

I have been browsing my usual blog roll, and surprisingly, there seem to be very few posts dedicated to the New Year. Though not surprised, I have to say I am disappointed. It’s kind of nice to know what everyone is looking forward to as one ushers in a new year.

For me, 2007 was the year I discovered nostalgia. Not the nice reminiscence which fills ones being with warmth and happiness, but rather an yearning to go back into the past, and holding you back from enjoying the present and taking steps into the future. I have spent way too much time this year looking back. As a friend says, ‘Its too early to start looking back. More than that, to start going back. Save that for your 60’s’ – I most definitely should and will!

Anyway, it seems significant that three days shy of new years eve, we landed up in Khecheopalri Lake (Sikkim) - the significance being that this lake is considered as a “wishing lake” by the Buddhist - and the timing perfect for new wishes and resolutions. In front of the lake, is a room where people can light lamps to voice their prayers. Though not really a believer of such rites, we still liked the idea of lighting lamps as symbolic way to give fire to your dreams. So, we each lit a lamp. And I do hope all dreams, whether wished then or ever does come true!

For a year better than the last,
for new authors and books, who have so far taken me to places I could never be,
for friends, who make all the difference in this world and to this world
for new meetings, who add colour and a different perspective to life
for changes to keep me on my toes,
for new things, most importantly happy things,
and for all those wishes buried deep inside, and meant only for each of us!

Cant wait to be 'Sikkim'ing

2007-12-15T23:31:00.000+05:30

Yes. I cant wait.

I have been researching hard for the last 3 weeks, slaving away to getting my tongue used to all the 'north eastern' names. My friend, my accomplice in travel, has been burried in work all week and until today, when i finally gave her a call to run her through the itenarary - it didnt seem real. There we were running through options for day 1, day 2 etc. and splitting who would take care of what - and suddenly we realised
1. It was not a vague dream
2. And it was really happening
3. And in less than 7 days! Yeay!

This is going to be a different trip ofcourse. For the reason that, two of us elder sisters are dragging our 2 kid sisters with us. Overnight, our responsibilities have increased for this reason, and for once, i am abondaning some of my 'mad-hatter' ideas. And ofcourse, it's our first almost self arranged trip in the great mountains.

So - A little anxious, loads excited, and waiting for 22nd!

Wine Tasting in Sula Wineyards, Nasik...

2007-12-15T22:05:00.000+05:30

A lazy saturday ... as we get ready to turn around this year, I am trying to stay ahead of my trips and keep this blog as updated as possible. Ofcourse, not exaactly sure for what, but now that I have embarked on blogging, it feels like it shd record all the events it was meant to record.

While most often its fun to write - sometimes, it does become an effort! Anyway my last few posts have been loaded with words, this one's a photo post. Almost only a photo post.

Never could resist red bougenvillas

Where the wine grows

Vine from the wineyard

Where the wine is made

A toast to ....

Flaming crimson

Stacked

I dreamt I went to Pilani

2007-12-02T12:24:00.000+05:30

Last night I dreamt I went to Pilani again.

It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to into the campus for a long time, as the way was barred to me. And all of a sudden, with ethereal capabilities possessed in truest of dreams, I floated inside. The road appeared the same, lined with trees on either side, creamy yellow buildings housing students on one side, a huge ground with jogging track on the other. And the famous Gandhi statue on the four road cross section up ahead. The scene magically changed to another - it was a clear night, buzzing with students unlike any other night. There I was seated at the foot of the statue with my friends waiting for the bus - to take us out of this place into the real world. My last day in Pilani.

I was almost losing hope on the Pilani trip, when overnight all my travel arrangements were made. I wasn't sure what my exact role in the whole recruitment process was, but i dare not ask lest they decided i was not needed. We left Delhi around 10 o clock 5 of us in a loaded Tavera. Everyone was already dreading the 6 hour journey. I was looking forward to 6 hours of reminiscing.

I seemed to disapparate from that scene to another place and time. I was in the SUB or the students union block. The place had a charm of its own, the old rooms with slanted asbestos roof arranged along the three sides of a rectangle, facing the grounds. A tree here and there and a couple of broken benches to complete the scene.

It was a warm afternoon with strains of Bryan Adams filling the place. Sounds of excited laughter floated past. I was sitting in a corner indulged in our famous 'paper tearing'. My heart was beating just a little faster... I seemed to be just a little breathless as I lifted my head and my eyes met his. It seemed like we were playing a subliminal game, unnoticed by others. I was surrounded by people with whom i seemed to have established a bond from beyond the ages. Everyone was laughing. Some were recounting the adventures of the passed year. It was a beautiful afternoon when everything was magic.

We landed by 4.30 in the evening. We decided to go around the campus head of our presentation - so we caught 3 cycle rickshaws for the grand tour. At every corner, every bend I kept expecting a friend, an infamous couple, a rival group, a cheeky junior or just another face u noticed in the mess. It was weird.

I left them to the afternoon warmth and flitted along the roads to C'not and the park behind. In that few minutes it took me to walk, the sun seemed to have set replaced by a starry clear night. And then another image slipped in to place. We were sitting on the walls of the C'not park. It had become a routine for me and my friend, to head towards the quieter roads on evenings when time was at our disposal and when we had no things to do. We would walk around discussing the things of passionate importance - the latest department fight, the outcome of certain peoples love lives, why we disliked some one and in general the state of our lives- and then of things of lesser importance, but nevertheless as much passion like why we liked F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Today she was recounting why she liked Chandler the most for the zillionth time. And we were wondering why couples liked to claim that they were'just good friends'. Then we settled into an enigmatic silence absorbing the quiet night and starry sky that enveloped us.

I don't know if it was an attempt to connect to the past or to the present, I had tried to reach some students carrying the torch of our department still. It was there farewell night, and I became the 'special guest' for the night. It was endearing, but not the same all because the people were different. I longed for the old lot to mysteriously appear out of nowhere.

We seemed to have the knack for getting cranky at night especially after a dose of maggi. This night was no different. The three of us were coming up with reasons for why women should be allowed into the mime team. Or we were trying. Everything we said seemed extremely hilarious and all we managed was, was to keep laughing. My eys kept meeting my friend's to dissolve into pools of laughter. By now, there was of course tears streaming down. I stared at the scene of the three of us, struggling to get some words out, but lapsing back into giggles. It was one of our best brain storming sessions ever.

As I headed back to the guest house, where we were staying for the night, my colleagues came out stating that they wanted to explore the campus by night. So we walked by to sky, the huge lawns outside the museum which became a favorite hangout in our final semester, ANC or the all night canteen where we had innumerable samchats, C'not or the happening hangout street on campus. I had always enjoyed the late nights even while on college - there was something very adventurous and liberating about it.

The scene repainted itself once again. I emerged out of my room to see what was the commotion. My fiends were back from the Tamil play organized by PTM which had mocked "girls" to an extent beyond humorous. The mercury was rising in the room as every one let of their steam. I was thinking, so we are angry, and boys will be boys - what can we do. In the end, my friends sat up all night, coming up with charts voicing our protest. Before the break of dawn, they were up on all the hostel messes. And by mid day, every one we knew had see the charts and were all surprised at our reactions. The protest was famous, but no one knew who had put it up. It became one of our best kept secrets.

The next day was busy. Our initial plan had been to spend the second night in Pilani. But everyone else seemed to be in a dying hurry to return and i didn't have much of a choice. I had hoped to take some photos in the evening, but there was no time for that now. I consoled myself saying that what mattered the most was the i got a chance to return. We left for Delhi that afternoon.

We were all assembled in the guest house lawns for the farewell, discussing how 'it is still not sinking in that we are all leaving'. After we were all seated, there was a round of farewell speeches. Farewells were always nice, it gave you those exclsive minutes to run back in time and nestle in moments one most relished. Except this time, it was a farewell for my batch.

I was just starting my speech - there was so much i wanted to say. This department had in a way been the beginning and the end as this was where I had made most of my closest friends. It had been a tumultuous 4 years, nevertheless every minute enjoyable. I had just finished saying so much, and I was choking up. My eyes were blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to, but couldn't hold back. I started crying in front of a whole group for the first time in four years.

*******

The images kept coming one after the other. Sometimes it was just the feeling of the warm sun, the welcoming cold of the corridor walls, the lightness in the heart at te begining of the summer, the laziness of the evening at night, the fluttering of my heart at the begining of a new love, the feeling of being looked out for with special friends.

Sometimes, I was reliving the scene, and sometime I was an observer looking at an evening or night unfolding itself. I could feel a timelessness as I went through the four years at Pilani. It had been a world unto itself, untouched and un-intruded. And then just as suddenly, with all the cognizance possible in a dream, it struck me that, that was where I was - in a dream. I knew that I was standing on the outside looking into a time that was over. A time that was in the past....

And I knew then I could never go back.

PS: This post was in part inspired by 'Rebecca' with its famous lines 'Last night I dreamt I went to Manderlay again'.

A different Picture

2007-11-18T18:55:00.000+05:30

And then, i have been travelling. In the truest sense of packing bags and going to a place and coming back. Old places- but nevertheless, a different picture.

A couple of weeks back I was in Delhi on a suit booted official trip. We were taking a few people from the US to meet some companies. As usual, the long travel was an ice breaker topic - they got started on their harrowing flight experiences, new airport rules, security procedures... And then one of them said 'You know the 100ml rule for carrying liquids? So i had to finish with the security and then buy my 6 pack mineral water bottle - plus what a pain carrying it around'. And I was stunned! This person had actually bought mineral water all the way from United States in preparation of a 3 day stay in India. I mean- didn't they think we had mineral water? What was the deal?

From there on it only got worse. Here i was thinking that these people would go all rave about India ( an impression gained from eager travellers) - and all i got was the side effectc of malaria and other injections taken in prep for this trip. The best comments - "This place no longer looks like a third world country". And "This city looks like Shanghai 15 years ago". And this comment was about Delhi after having been put up in the Taj, having lunch in Intercontinental, and cruising around some of the best parts of the city. I dreaded to even wonder about what they would have to say about Mumbai.

Their comments actually got me seeing our country from their eyes (while some of it like the mineral water bottles of course extreme and ridiculous). Maybe when people do rave about this country, its more because its like an incredible freak show they see over here. I mean, who in their sane minds would want to travel in the over crowded Mumbai trains? But that is something that is commented on in almost every travel report in a 'U won't believe it' sort of narration.

And as for all of us, I feel as if we all so bought on the 'India Story' - bought too much into it. We do have a lot of good going for us - but we are so focused on shouting out loud about our new found glory, that we have failed to notice our shortcomings - which could eventually be our undoing. Either that or we have grown complacent. Take for example Mumbai - While every non-mumbaiite acknowledges the pathetic state of this city - not a single mumbaiite will - they have grown so used to the state of the city, that there only excuse is the unmanageable population. And that's their defence for everything that's wrong in this city.

One of the other comments that also caught my attention...
"This is the outcome of being the largest democracy - it is almost impossible to implement any reform. Look at China. People dont have much of a say against the government, but every strata of the economy has grown. Minimum quality of life is much higher. At the end of the day, I don't care for democracy, when I don't have a plate of food on my table for every meal and no place to sleep."

Very true. However I'd hate to think of a dictatorship in the hands of a wrong person in this country - which is what would happen most likely, if it ever were to! While I wonder where the solution lies, I hope it doesn't become too late for our country.

Secret thoughts of travellers revealed

2007-11-16T15:02:00.000+05:30

This was an article from NY Times where the author talks about his project 'PostSecret'. After what he terms a serendipitous encounter with a writer sending post cards on the flight, he started this project where he collects post cards from travellers on their musings while on the move.

I found the concept of this book very interesting. I mean - if one were to count the drift of thoughts - weird, funny , sad , nostalgic, philosophical - that cross our head every time we are on a train, waiting for the bus or twiddling our thumbs in the airport. And more often than not they slip away, un-noted and un-shared. What better than scribbling it on a boarding pass or the back of ticket ( assuming u wont need it for re-imbursement of course!) for some one else to find? Then again, there is something surreal about connecting with a nameless, faceless person through comments left on a book on or a postcard.

Not to forget - some of these comments are downright hilarious and beat many one liners I've come across.

One postcard I received had a hilarious picture of two pilots jauntily walking through an airport in crisp suits. We all have seen these people. We have all been annoyed by these people. The secret on the card read, “Stop walking through the airport like you own the place!”

Another secret that arrived on a baggage claim ticket read: “You called me an idiot so I sent your bags to the wrong destination. WHOOPS! I guess you were right.”

And a note from the heart...
On a boarding pass, I read a secret of love lost, “I would have left home and flown 2430 miles with you if only you had asked.”

The author says, "It should be noted that I don’t actually write books; I compose them from the postcards that are mailed to me. I essentially invite strangers to anonymously send me untold secrets written on homemade postcards. So far, I have received more than 150,000 inspiring, remorseful, funny, hopeful and even sexual secrets from around the world on every topic imaginable."

His favorite, and my favorite too is a quote from a pilot:
”When passengers ignore the ‘stay in your seats’ sign, I create my own turbulence.”

So, if you wanted to share a thought, I wonder....... :)

So close…. Could be so far?

2007-11-03T15:08:00.000+05:30

Do you know how it feels to be “thissss” close to something that is like an unimaginable dream come true and yet have it all foiled. That’s how I feel, although my plans aren’t foiled as yet – there is this fatalistic feeling that the plan would certainly fall through. Plans for what I am sure would have been the trip of the year. The trip to Pilani.

It was a team party, a lazy afternoon with no hint of information which was to possess me for the next couple of months. My manager, an ex-Bitsian, tells me that this year we had decided to include BITS in the recruitment roster- and I was thrilled. And then he adds, ‘you should come along. We always take alumni with us when we go recruiting’. And I still remember that almost instantaneous spontaneous stupid smile that filled my face - the feeling of being lifted by a light hearted breeze – and a euphoria which suddenly filled my entire being.

I was being asked to go to BITS. I WAS BEING ASKED TO GO TO BITS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just like that! I mean, how many times had I run through this idea with friends, and for some silly reason or the other we never made it. We didn’t even come close to planning it. And out of the blue I was being asked to go to Bits. Yes! Yes! Yes a hundred times over.

I know this trip will be different from what I always envisioned a ‘Return to BITS’ – which would have of course been in the company of my bestest friends – friends with whom I made most of my Bitsian moments and memories. Still – I want to go back to see if the place still holds the same magic through my twenty five years old eyes as it did then.

Of course, following this day I’ve had thousands of nightmares. What if my manager forgot the conversation? Worse what if he forgot I was from BITS. What if I had work and couldn’t make it? What if they chose not to go? Thousand of what if’s. And the fatalistic feeling that it was too good to be true and it wouldn’t happen. Last week, things however picked up some momentum and we are looking to finalize dates – but even then looks like it might clash with a friends wedding I absolutely cannot miss.

Keeping my fingers crossed, and praying hard!