Faraway Diaries

Open again

2010-06-28T21:34:00.001-07:00

I had closed both Faraway Diaries and Finely Chopped yesterday. I have opened them again. Here's why

A trip to grandma's for the the summer hols ... Literati Bookshop and Cafe, North Goa

2010-02-12T06:53:00.000-08:00

Some of our friends had told us about a place called Literati near Baga at North Goa. We were told that it was a cafe and a bookshop.

K and I went to the beach on our second day at Goa. I was carrying a stomach bug. Couldn't take the sun. So we decided to check out Literati the next day and have breakfast there.

I must confess that I was a bit underwhelmed when we reached there. We had the image of a Lila Cafe sort of place in our heads. What we saw was a pretty house in a lovely garden. Three rooms of books and a veranda which looked on to the garden. The 'cafe' part seemed limited. Creatures of urban comfort that we are, we missed our cappuccinos or having straws to sip the nice cold coffee on offer. The 'cheese sandwich' was just as your granny would make it. Cheese in two slices of bread, toasted in a griller. The food tasted tasted and smelt of the summer vacation trips to one's grandparents place.

As you have probably realised by now, Literati was a fairly rustic and simple operation. There were Irani cafe- like rules. 'No taking food inside.' 'No taking books outside'. 'No taking first hand books into the second hand section.'

So you had to sit quietly in the veranda and look into the green Eden like garden as you munched on the sandwich that granny made. 'Eden-like garden'? Was the place growing on us? Read on to find out more.

Fuelled by coffee and cheese we set off to check out the books. My first discovery was the 'Lost Diary Of Adrian Mole'. This set the tone for the rest of the morning. For Literati was not an assembly line of CD cum books cum mags cum fridge magnet cum Barbie shop. Literati represents the last of a rare, fast breed called 'bookshops'. They had the usual Pamuks, Harukamis and Balduccis. But if you looked around you would find books popping out and calling out to you. Books which would met your interests. Or of those whom you were fond of. There is nothing like the joy of discovering the perfect book when you least expect it.

The first room had the new/ first hand books. Then there are two more rooms which have second hand books. There are comfy sofas to sink in. Well worn. Ceiling fans to cool you. The mood is balmy and lazy thanks to the trees outside. The staff are very sweet and helpful. Don't expect any supermarket speed and efficiencies though.

To take the grandma metaphor further, the place did remind me of my visits to my grandparent's house when I was a kid. And the joys of discovering great books in my grandpa's collection. Literati is not a steel and chrome air conditioned functional shop. You should go there if you want to unwind, laze, step off from the treadmill and discover some great books. The place invites you to walk around, feel at home and takeaway memories. Don't go there if you want to pick a book on the go.

I suddenly heard Bengali being spoken while I was roaming around the shop. To be expected in a book shop I guess. They turned out to be a Bengali father and daughter couple. A Bengali lady called Mita, who had married a Dutch gentleman and had settled in Goa, and her father Mr Das who had come from Delhi. So we ended up having a Bengali association meet in the heart of Goa! Like my grandpa, Mr Das too felt that I should have joined the IAS!

Literati left us underwhelmed. And then overwhelmed. It grew on us. As K put it, it was the discovery of the trip. I can't tell you how good it felt be in a 'real' bookshop after ages. And in such an awesome setting. Looked after by such good natured people. Literati has shot up our 'must visit' list at Goa.

We picked loads of books for ourselves and our friends. Just about manged to dodge the excess budget limits.

For me the high point was meeting my old friend Aidy Mole again. And what better time for that than on my birthday trip? Hang on Aidy, the world will hear of your Newt Tales someday.

Notes:

Literati is at a place called Ice Factory near Calangute at North Goa. Here's their web site for more details
They are shut on Sunday
The shop closes at 6 PM
The kitchen shuts at 2.30 PM. Because "she (the cook I assume) leaves"
They don't serve aerated soft drinks. But they serve wine and beer. That's Goa
If you see a lab who looks like Marley then you are likely to have met Frieda. Do say hi to her from me. Poor thing had to be dragged away as K squealed in fright when Frieda scampered in

KL Strikes Back

2010-02-05T00:37:00.000-08:00

I visited KL in 2006. I was mighty unimpressed. Wrote about the same here.

Now one could always argue that this was a superficial outsiders un-researched take. But then that's what this blog is meant to be. A sum up of first impressions. I was actually at KL for more than a week. First for a conference. And then with Kainaz when she joined me. We did the touristy bits. Saw the Twin Towers. Climbed the other tower. Went to the Batik factories. The Museum and the Malls. Scoured the streets for food. Went to a highly recommended disc. Zouk. Which was shut. We were happy and relived to move onto Langkawi.

Three years down the line I discovered that the best way to see KL is to skip the Twin Towers!
If you look at KL from the surface then it is hard to find anything which distinguishes it from other Asian Tiger cities. What you need is someone who loves the city. And shares common interests with you to give you a real peek into the city.

Folks like Arindam and Sasha. Bengalis who moved into KL from Calcutta then Delhi and finally Mumbai. Arindam was earlier upset when he read that I was not impressed by KL. And was incensed that I had called Singapore the food capital of the world. He was bent on proving me wrong. Soon the opportunity came and I landed at their place at KL one Friday. What followed was a culinary romp through buttered pork, suckling pigs, chilly pan mee, siew yoke, fried frogs and lots lots more with a bit of touristy shopping thrown in at Ikea, Watsons and Carrefour.

We didn't see the Twin Towers. And I had a whale of a time.

Moral of the story. It pays to connect with someone who knows the city before you land up there. Ideally someone who has common interests with you. This will not always be possible. But you will be surprised what a little bit of blog searching or Facebook questioning could throw up. I learnt this from the expert. Sasha actually reads up travel sites and enters into discussions there before she plans Arindam and her vacations. Individuals tend to give less exhaustive but more intense and useful information. You are likely to gain much more than just going to impersonal travel directories, books or agents. I am going to do that the next time.

Anyone interested in Mumbai, Calcutta (slightly dated info), Baga Goa feel free to ask me questions. Especially if they are to do with food.

And you can go to my food blog, Finely Chopped, to see what we were up to in KL this time. Check this for live updates from KL and some more posts after I returned.

Here are some pictures to tempt you ...

Sasha and Arindam... the two people who can really bring KL alive for you

My first bite of frog

Roast suckling pork

Home of a heavenly delight - Chilly Pan Mee -handmade noodles, poached egg, fried mice pork, fried anchovies, a secret eleven spice chilly mix

A great place near the Mid Valley Mall for Siew Yoke (pork belly) and the legendary Chicken Rice

Yes, yes ...you guys win, KL 7 Singapore 1

Chocolate and cheese and other sins Swiss

2009-11-21T07:27:00.000-08:00

This is a piece which I wrote to sum up our Swiss trip. The idea was to debunk the nation that Switzerland is beautiful but unidimensional. And bring in a food lover's flavour to it of course. I conceptualised this as a magazine article or a chaper in a Travel book. So its not really short. The only mainstream media people to have published me so far are Mumbai Mirror. The only way this will fit in a newspaper will be if they delete every alternate line. Well here's the article, a long read I must warn you. Hope it sees the light of day someday.

“Switzerland’s like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’ll get next” with apologies to Mama Gump

The audacity of hope

I must confess that Switzerland wasn’t on the list of our dream destinations. Nor were we planning an international trip this year. It all began when I was invited to present a market research paper at a conference at Montreux, Switzerland. My wife decided to join me and soon we went into a holiday planning mode.

Our mail inboxes were clogged, phone lines were busy and the roads outside our house was jammed in the run up to the trip as friends and well wishers kept telling us that we were making the biggest mistake of our lives. The common refrain was that Switzerland was pretty but boring, the place for Yash Chopra besotted tourists, not for ‘people like us’, that there was no history or character. Most suggested that we should go to the conference and then branch out to the rest of Europe. The fact that we planned to spend a fortnight there, including the conference week, made many want to jump out of their windows in despair and disgust. Add to that Lonely Planet’s cheerful introduction which said that Switzerland was a place that even folks from Western Europe would find too expensive.

Despite the red flags we started our arduous journey via Dubai to Zurich with a prayer and a thermal suit.

Smoke on the water

Zurich airport was cold, antiseptic and efficient. We took the escalator down and went to the train station. We were guided to the appropriate terminal by a very kind and patient grandpa at the help desk. Lonely Planet was right, Switzerland had an ageing population and was a bit like a Parsi Baug. As we found out, the folks at the stations and the ticket collectors were extremely helpful, warm, spoke fairly good English and doubled up as tourist guides, country ambassadors and even babysitters at times.

We were armed with a ‘Super saver’ Railway pass on the behest of our enterprising travel agent. This opened all train doors, got us onto all buses, ferries and even got us discounts and free entries into museums. A railway pass is a must if you are going to Switzerland. If you are going on your honeymoon you can afford to leave your spouse behind but not the Super Saver Swiss railway pass.

My wife and I did our Dilwale Dulhaniya bit and jumped into a train with our suitcases and reached Montreux a train switch and four hours later.

Our hotel at the French speaking Montreux, Villa Toscane, was a restored villa with no staff except in the mornings. We drew the curtains open and looked out onto a most amazing view. A tranquil lake. The lake of Deep Purple’s ‘Smoke on the water’. A stately mountain. And a huge balcony and a terrace by our side. We were living the Princess Diaries.

We had to go the adjoining hotel lobby for breakfast which for me turned out to be a warm croissant, a pat of butter and more than a pat of Nutella chocolate spread. The salty burst of butter rushing to meet the noble, hazelnut chocolate spread, cocooned in a maternal bread is the stuff which makes heaven what it is. Add a good strong coffee, with a point of view, and you have just what was needed to start the day. Did I mention that every coffee that we had at Switzerland, be it at Starbucks, or at supermarket dispensers, or at elegant cafes or at hotel breakfast buffets, was a work of art matching up to the best treasures sleeping in Swiss bank vaults?

Yes we’ve all attended conferences at fancy hotels. But this one was special. It was at the Music Convention Centre, home to the International Jazz Festival, when we market researchers weren’t discussing statistics.

A bus ride of twenty minutes and you reached the Chillon Castle which looked like it was straight out of an illustrated Hans Anderson book. A castle which inspired Lord Byron to pen a poem and vandalise the dungeon walls by etching his name.

Montreux was also where we had the first Swiss national dish of Roesti, assorted meats served with fried, soft potato straws (roesti). This had my Parsi wife jumping in joy as she found it to be a cousin of her Sali per eendus and Sali per kheemas.

Montreux is where I realised that pizza needn’t be a melted goop of cheese and tomato puree on bread. We sat by the lake, close to aapro Freddy Mercury’s statue, and had a very elegant pizza with shards of Emmenthal, blobs of Mozarella, fresh rocquette leaves, cherry tomatoes and pepperoni … individual tastes which came together as one happy family on the crisp naan-like pizza crust.

There was a Lebanese, Mediterranean joint too which was an Asian god send for Indian tastes. Is this a good time to say that Montreux is where we tried a horse steak? In case you are wondering, it was a fairly tough cut of meat.

World Peace

Our next stop was Zermatt but not before we had our Eureka moment. We figured out that most cities were within an hour of each other by train and you can visit a city without basing yourself there. So we made two trips to Geneva from Montreux. During the first we saw the largest clock made with flowers and Le Jet d eau, a fountain on the lake which touched the sky. The picturesque stuff done, we came back for a reality check the next day.

We went to the Red Cross Museum. We walked through records of the worst of human atrocities and left, as my wife put it, happy for the lives we have.

We then went to the U N Building and sat in the conference halls where Indira Gandhi, Castro, Arafat and Bush had deliberated before us. Where the Security Council got together the morning India and Pakistan detonated the big N.

On the way back we said hello to Mahatma Gandhi. His was the only statue on the lawns outside the U N building. The cobwebs on his ears were a telling statement of the place of his philosophy of non-violence in today’s world.

The high point of Geneva for me though was the extremely cheesy quiche which we had at the supermarket at the station. Each bite made me grin like a Happy Cow. This was the quiche which spoilt me for all quiches after that.

She’ll be coming down the mountains

We finally hopped onto a train to the German speaking Zermatt. A town which is famous for the Matterhorn glacier. The mountain on Toblerone packs. ‘Climbing’ the peak meant three cable car rides. Just the way a lazy Bengali like me would have it. We finally touched snow when we reached the top. This was the perfect setting for a Hindi film song. The layers of thermals, woollen caps, gloves, sweaters, which seemed so incongruous when we bought them on a hot sunny afternoon at Linking Road, suddenly became life savers. We went into the café at the landing and had the best spaghetti Bolougnaise that I have ever had – loving and nourishing. I felt life return to me as I wrapped my palms around a warm cappuccino. We decided to stroll down on the way back and stumbled upon a village fair to sell sheep. This is where we discovered the secret Swiss treasure of Racalette; melted cheese, served with boiled potatoes and pickle a blockbuster star cast. We walked back to our hotel, Christiana, which, like every building in Zermatt, looked like Hansel and Gretel’s house with pretty pink and orange posies. The hotel where the concierge, Frank, welcomed us with a plaintive cry of ‘we missed you’ when we checked in.

Bern Identity

We made a couple of day trips to Berne which we fell in love with. I could tell you about the pebbled roads and the picturesque stone buildings of this Unesco heritage city. Of its clock tower. And its Church, Munster House, with its tower of 394 steps. I am proud to say that I am married to a lady who was one of the few to scale the all 394 of them. I could tell you about the charming market where people played chess with live sized coins on the road. Of the magnificent Parliament House. And of our visit to Einstein’s House. The house where the genius came up with the idea of the Theory of Relativity. Of the Wild Chasse (antelope) which I had at a meat shop cum restaurant and its tender, soft meat. But the one memory of Bern that I’ll cherish the most is the amazing smell of bakeries that welcome you the moment you got off at the Bern railway station. Coffee, cakes, quiches, pies, sandwiches, canapés, pretzels, steaks, cookies, Chinese (!) fried rice … definitely the tastiest railway station I have ever been to.

Irritating Interlaken

We made a stop at Interlaken which had so many fellow Indians that we felt that we were back home at Dadar station. A fairly boring, commercialised place. The base to the City Hotel Oberland, the worst hotel of the trip of otherwise lovely hotels. If I remember Interlaken at all it will be for the charming Restaurant Bebbe, its enthusiastic staff in black and white leopard print tights and exaggerated American accents from Hollywood of the fifties. The great racalettes, fondues, roast pork and roestis that they dished out. Topped with free ice cream on the last night.

Chocolate, cheese, heaven

Our next stop, Lucerne, was, as the cliché goes, heaven on earth. Just what the doctor ordered after Interlaken. Its medieval wooden bridge, the Kappelbruecke, which was burnt down and rebuilt was the stuff of poetry. Lake Lucerne was beautiful and rejuvenated you.

Another lovely hotel, The Waldstatterhof, Gothic outside, uber cool inside, with very friendly staff. The Picasso Museum with some very weird paintings and photos from the master’s last years. A quaint Saturday market, picturesque old town quarters. Dark chocolate with hazelnut slabs which we nibbled on at a Chocolaterie called Merkur, on our hotel receptionist Ricky’s advice.

Mc Flurry at Mc Donald’s … a shake with an M&M in every bite. And a cheese shop called Haas Barmetteler. Where the staff spoke English and from where I picked some lovely grainy Gruyere, Luc Noir, a cheese which reminded you of a salty old sailor, and slices of my new love, Racalette, to bring home to Mumbai. All are memories in my tummy now.

The last supper

Our last stop was Zurich. We arrived on a Sunday. All malls were shut. This was a big blow as we’d kept all our shopping for the end.

We got on a river cruise as we were at a loss for what to do. There was a sense of jubilation when we got down after what was the dreariest three hours of our lives for most who were on the boat.

But the magical night had just begun as we were looking for a good place to eat. We stumbled upon a Zurich Film Festival kiosk full of volunteers with ‘Free Polanski’ buttons. This is where we met Shivani, a second generation Swiss girl of Indian origin. She loved Zurich and was hurt to see that we were disappointed with the city. She enthusiastically pointed us to a lane called University Grasse. We walked through empty cobbled lanes with cathedrals lit up in a lovely yellow glow and the odd street musician giving us company. We eventually reached the street she had sent us to. It was dotted with little cafes, with tables on the pebbled roads, candlelights, and waiters calling out for customer a la Juhu Chowpatty… a setting which only Picasso could have conceived for our last night at Switzerland. We had the ethereal and creamy veal roesti with an unpronounceable name which Shivani enthusiastically recommended. And a Swiss treasure called Cordon Bleau … a cholesterol feast of crumb fried pork stuffed with ham stuffed with cheese. Which, might I add, before you get too excited, was dry and chewy.

Our shopping did happen the next day as my wife bought enough chocolate for Switizerland to topple over once we left. Lunch of a blue- blooded coffee in aristocratic sliver ware, ham quiche and smoked salmon canapés, mysterious and exotic dark chocolate pastries at the Sprungli café, of Lindt and Sprungli fame, and we were set to say auf weiderschen and au revoir to Switzerland.

As I sat on the plane I suddenly remembered all the warnings about getting bored out of my wits at Swizerland. Pity we never got the time to check that out.

"We are here" .... Lucerne Longings

2009-10-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been on a holiday when you had the sinking feeling that things were not going right. Well we were quite low after Interpatel, sorry Interlaken, and trooped wearily into Lucerne.

But should have known things would change when we saw the Starbucks outside our hotel which was outside the station. Sat there as our room was getting ready and wondered what shocks Lucerene would hold for us.

Actually I should have got a hint when I saw the lovely Gothic railway station that we were in for a picturesque treat. This was the city of the awe inspiring Lion Monument after all.

Our luck began to change once we stepped into our hotel, The Walsdtatterhof. A faux Gothic exterior with bright, chirpy red foyer, modern rooms just as Lonely Planet promised. The room with its arty screen by the bed, classy desk, lace curtains, its spaciousness, neat and modern, glass bathroom (after the stink and stains after our last hotel) and petite veranda were just what we needed after the horrible City Oberland Hotel of Interlaken. We felt so good that we rarely felt the chill outside.

The best part of the hotel was the ever smiling staff. From the diffident Frank who would allow me some precious free Internet time as I blogged furiously to the lovely Ricky who patiently and passionately answered our questions on chocolate and cheese. She would whip out a map and start with a loud and sonorous "we are here" and proceeded to give us directions to the right cheese shop (Has Barmetteler) and chocolaterie (Merkur) AND chocolate (dark with hazelnut slab)

It's thanks to her that we didn't get lost in translation in the Saturday fare and local cheese sellers and antelope meat sellers and landed at the right places to buy some excellent cheese and chocolate.

Chas Barmettler with its fresh cheese pies and treasure troves of cheese was just the spot for a cheese addict like me.

We fell in love with the river, the fairytale architecture, and the wooden bridge which fire couldn't cow down. We started our visit to the city with a visit to the Picasso exhibition... and then things became prettier by the moment.

Sitting by the evening and sipping a cappuccino was an unparalleled high. Though it did get a bit too cold for me as the sun set late into the magical evenings.

I want to go back!!!!!

Anniversaries and beginnings

2009-10-21T03:19:00.000-07:00

Sitting here in muggy Mumbai it's hard to imagine that we were in Turkey a year back. We landed at Cappadoccia same day last year. We were in the amazing Museum Hotel, cave room with its own jacuzzi, Kainaz's gift to me for our anniversary. Wrote about it in The Mumbai Mirror. Here's the link to the article which came out recently.

And it's such a coincidence that I got my first ever cheque for writing today. A year after the day we landed at Cappadoccia. K has suggested that I keep it rather than encash it. I am in two minds. No amount is too small after all.

What would you do?

Shiver me timbers ... Klein Matterhorn

2009-10-18T12:53:00.000-07:00

We landed at Switzerland from the dusty plains of India. Our first thought was, 'when can we touch snow?'. We waited for a week at Montreux where we looked at the snow capped mountains from our hotel room. And then off we went to Zermatt. Zermatt is at the base of the Matterhorn Glacier. The Matterhorn is one of the most famous peaks of the Swiss Alps. And it is the peak on Toblerone packs.

We got a lovely view of the Matterhorn from our room at the lovely Hotel Christiana on the first morning. And we decided to set off in our quest for snow.

Bengalis and Parsis are not the most athletic of races. The Zermatt definition of 'mountaineering' was right up our street. Three cable cars and up at the glacier. The Swiss Rail pass didn't cover the cable cars but it got us a a fifty per cent discount on the overall price.

I took my first step on the glacier and was spell bound. The hazy mist, the snow, the icy might of the mountains, the chill that touched your bones ... and more importantly the fact that I kept slipping and couldn't stand still!

I soon got my bearings and began to enjoy the expereince.

Was thankful for each and every layer which seemed so incongruous when we bought them at Linking Road on a sunny afternoon. Especially at the Galier Palace.

But it was easy to understand why Switzerland is a favourite with honeymooning couples. I still stand by Goa and the bus ride with chickens though.

We won't forget the lovely cafe at the glacier. Surprisingly not a tourist trap unlike what one would expect of a shop at such a place. Souveniers and food were the same price at shops at terra firma. That's where K was breaking her head with the dumb the cell phone call centre person with her astronomical phone bill (that's her with the red bag). A call which was at ISD rates and not toll free!!!!

Where we had the best sphaggeti bolougnaise in the world.

And where I came and warmed myself over a cup of steaming cappuccino before we set back.

Life before Seinfield .... Einstein Haus, Bern

2009-10-16T04:54:00.000-07:00

K was very keen on checking out Einstein's house at Bern. After winding roads, helpful locals excited to know we were from Mumbai, trying to decipher maps, cobbled paths, parliaments, clock towers and waffle stalls we finally reached Einstein Haus. The house where Einstein said he came up with the idea of the Theory of Relativity.

We had never been to a house of a genius AND a Nobel prize winner before. Correction, we had made a trip to Rabindranath Tagore's Shanti Niketan University but that was a blink and you miss it trip with no good labelling, a problem with most Indian museums.

It was a high to write on the same writing stand that Einstein used. And the copywriter didn't waste the opportunity. We went his parlour. Though I was a bit disappointed that the Einstein's weren't there to receive us.

We enjoyed reading some of the writings over there which gave an insight into his life from both his and his first wife's perspective. Which is when K began to tell me about the rumour that it was actually the Missus who had though of the Theory of R!!!!! Women I tell you.

I loved his self deprecating humour (hence the Seinfield reference). And particularly the time when he said that he would have been a plumber if he could start his life again ... and a plumber in the U S who offered him a job on hearing that.

The future is here... Dubai

2009-09-30T12:53:00.000-07:00

Remember those episodes of Simpsons which are science fictionish and show the future? Vast expanses of land with air bubbles for humans, located far from each other.

Dubai reminds me a lot of that. Long roads and highways snaking all across. With futuristic, gleaming steel buildings cropping up suddenly. And buildings like you have never seen before… towers reaching into the sky, sailing boats, pyramids, spheres, lakes… as if Picasso had been given an open canvas.

Many of these have amazing malls. Huge. The sort of space we can’t think about. The price of most of the stuff, INCLUDING the food, is the same as Switzerland. A country which the Lonely Planet says even Westerners would find expensive.

We’ve come a long way from the time where the whole of India would head to Dubai to shop. But the scale of the place makes you imagine what the future could hold.

And the malls are welcome oases of air conditioning which protects you from the desert heat.
The new Metro takes you from one mall to another.

The steel and chrome modern wonder of Dubai is a complete contrast to the Swiss cities with their 19th century stone buildings, fountains, narrow cobbled streets… all in a concentrated area. Cities like Zurich, Lucerne, Geneva represent the old order.

Our cities in India are like gangly teenagers trying to get there.

Does Dubai represent the future? Cities created on an architect’s elm?

Are we ready for it?

ZZZZZZZZZZZZurich..... Camp Zurich

2009-09-28T01:23:00.002-07:00

We landed at Zurich yesterday. Was a bit lost at the station before we finally found a Tourist Service office to guide us to our hotel. For once our hotel was far from the city centre. A full eight minutes by tram.

Our hotel, Leonardo Rigihof is really nice. Each room is named after a Zurich intellectual. Ours is named after a gentleman with a long name and has a German explanation on who he was.

K did a song and dance number when she stepped into the small but very modern room. Wooden or Pergo finish on the floors, wooded paneling on the bathroom exteriors making it look different from the rest of the room, a water colour like sketch of old buildings with calligraphy on the wall by the very comfortable bed, modern and aesthetic lighting, well designed bathroom gleaming and yet pleasing to look at, glass doors curtains with watercolour strips which open onto a largish balcony which looks onto a lovely stone house with a slanted wooden roof and bright flowers in the window.

Most of our hotels in this trip the aristocratic Villa Toscane at Montreux, the cottage like Christiana at Zermatt, the stately early 1900s building with a 21st century soul Waldstatterhof at Lucerne and now Rigihof go against the popular belief that base level three or four stars in Europe have very small and dingy rooms. Each of these hotel rooms have been quite different and distinct.

We had kept all our shopping for Zurich which was a bit of a bummer as all shops were shut as it was Sunday. The city looked like the Fort area of Mumbai on a Sunday. An office district, with European buildings from the beginning of the last century, completely empty. We have faced the biggest language problem here so far.

We were bored and for the first time got onto a river cruise. The staff at Toscane and Ricky at Waldstatterhof had warned us against a river cruise. They were right. It turned out to be the singularly most boring experience in Switzerland. The sort of thing where a boy and girl might enter as friends, decide to get married in between and file for a divorce by the end of the trip.

K and I rested our weary feet for one and a half hours and joined the jubilant exclamations of all around when the cruise ended.

Hopefully today, a Monday, is another day.

Switzerland, the final hours .... Camp Zurich

2009-09-28T01:23:00.001-07:00

Last night we realised that it was the first day that it was the first day on this trip when I didnt blog in the trip. Its -the apostrophes and brackets don’t work on this comp- been really wonderful writing about the trip. Thanks for reading it and commenting.. And I guess a big thanks go to K who didnt mind my disappearing to business centres and cyber cafes for hours.

Today is the last day of Durga Puja. I remember we used to look forward to these five days all year long in Calcutta. Nothing much happened otherwise there. And the last day sucked and we used to feel so crestfallen. Just like the last day of a great holiday.

Legend has it that the Goddess Durga returns to heaven with her family after fived days on Earth. Ironically we leave Switzerland on the same day.

Which says it all.

A short stop over at Dubai at my aunts and then home.

More Swiss travel tips....Camp Zurich

2009-09-28T00:31:00.000-07:00

When you ask for the restaurant closing time here specify restaurant vs bar... we missed a lovely dinner at Luzern as we were told that the restaurant would be open till 1 am while only the bar was

You can have a sit down dinner for two at Mac D for 10 swiss francs or Rs 500, handy when the recession has set into your holiday budget

Zurich is completely shut on Sunday and is very avoidable. Dont plan any shopping on Sunday

The river cruise here is the singularly most boring experience in the world. The staff at the hotels of Montreux and Luzern had warned us against it. Took one last evening as there was nothing else to do. Its the sort of thing wher you might get in as acquaintances, decide to get married half way through and plan your divorce by the end. K and I used the one and a half hour to catch our breath

Berne identities.... Camp Lucerne

2009-09-26T12:44:00.000-07:00

We completed twelve days in Switzerland yesterday and it was symbolic that we got a glimpse of the non touristy face of the country on the sane day.

K wanted to check out the Museum of Psychology at Bern. I wanted to check out the Chinese restaurant at Bern station. So we jumped into a train from Lucerne and headed to Bern.

The museum was well into the city and it didn't seem to be part of the main attractions. We reached there after a number of bus changes. It was apparent why too many tourists don't go there. It was an old mental hospital which was converted into a Museum come school for psychiatry. Just up K's street as she has studied psycholgy and it's her passion.

The problem was that it was all in German. K was excited first and then crestfallen as it was all Greek to her.

We headed back.

We got to see another side to Bern as we returned to the central, touristy part of the city.

I had earlier gushed about the lovely buildings and cobbled streets of central Bern?

Well we had strayed into its underbelly. Empty streets. Rows of clinical, coldhouses. Reminiscent of the world behind the Iron Curtain of yore. Very different from the picture postcard Switzerland that we had seen so far. This part of Bern was far bleaker than the Bern I had fallen in love with.

I was so relieved to get back to the fairyland of Unesco's heritage section of Old Bern.

I am on a holiday. I am an escapist. I want the full blown Yash Chopra 70 mm experience,not a black and white Mrinal Sen on vacation. If I want stark reality I will head to Chinchpokli in Mumbai.

Freud would have smiled somewhere. We got a glimpse of the Schizophrenia of the country on a day when we were headed to a Psychologie Museum. Perhaps a rub off Satnam Sanghera's excellent 'Boy in the top knot' which I am reading here? Schizophrenia features prominently there after all.

Notes: Like old Albert and his wife, I fully acknowledge K as an equal partner on the post as she suggested the theme and the heading. What the hell, she started finely chopped and named that as well as faraway diaries for me. So like Albert I too promise that if I ever win a Nobel for blogging, she gets it ... we'll leave the percentage vague shall we?

More Swiss travel tips....camp Lucerne

2009-09-26T12:03:00.000-07:00

Most departmental stores shut by six pm, across cities. So do food counteres there so don't bank on them for dinner
A lot of restaurants shut by 5 PM. If you see a place you like and and plan to have dinner then better check if they will remain open later
The only way to get hot coffee at Starbucks is to ask for a takeaway. The cold weather could be a reason why the coffee in a mug goes cold quickly. Still at six francs or 300 Rs, tepid coffee sucks

Swiss army travel tips ... Camp Lucerne

2009-09-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

We have been at Switzerland for about twelve days now. And its symbolic that we had to stand in a train for the first time today. Are the touristy kid gloves wearing off?

But the place is growing on me and I have got dangerously used to clean roads, cool weather, hopping between cities without a worry on trains, picturesque roads, big smiles, beautiful buildings, lovely bakes and a stress free life. Gosh, how will I get used to the Curry Road bridge traffic again?

These are some of the things that I have picked up so far which could be of use to anyone coming to Switzerland:

Come with one piece of luggage per person. A suitcase with wheels. A lot of travel happens across trains and this is important
Food - cheapest eats would be the takeaways from departmental stores at stations and malls. You can get sandwiches, quiches, bakes, pizzas, salads and the works. Mid range sit down dinners could come to about 20 - 25 Swiss Francs (Rs 1000) per person with a main course and a drink. Which is cheap by local standards. Mac D could be a bit cheaper. Fine dining? Search me!!! But seriously, comes to at least 50 Francs per head from what I've seen in the menu cards outside restaurants. There are enough vegetarian options around and people would understand what you want in big cities. Big cities have Indian restaurants too. I've not been there so no idea on prices
Water from the tap is drinking water. So you can save some more here by buying a bottle or two and refilling them. Otherwise a bottle costs 2 Francs or hundred bucks
They often have sparkling water (soda) so be sure you ask for 'still' when you are buying water
Coffees are very good and must haves here. The departmental store dispensers are cheap and very good too. Much better than most coffees in India
Swiss Railway pass - A must. You can buy this in your base countries. Opens doors to all trains (except the mountain ones), buses, trams and even a lot of museums. The country becomes an open canvas once you have one and we make plans once we wake up and go wherever we want with this. You can get discounts on places like mountain trains which are private and not covered by passes
When you are moving across cities you can keep your luggage in the vestibule of the train and sit wherever you want. It's safe
K will hate me for this but some sliding doors in trains do not open automatically if you are 5 feet or below as it doesn't sense you :)
Clothes - you will need upper and lower thermals, sweater, jacket, woolen cap, woolen socks and gloves in the snow no matter how silly they seem while buying them in India. Carry an open jacket too. The cities get hot and you might want to take it off at times
Most hotels do not offer a porter so you will have to lug your luggage up to your room
If you have a bad back then get your medication from home. A back spray cost me 15 Francs or Rs 750 here. Very effective though
Don't feel embarrassed to go to a chocolaterie and buy a single chocolate. They seem to be used to it
Don't believe anyone who says that Switzerland is very montonous and is only about natural beauty. Each day has been a different adventure for us
The German speaking areas are quite comfortable in English and the French speaking areas make an effort too. Folks generally are very friendly and offer to help in case they see you are stuck with someone because of a language issue
Electric charging points are a problem. Only two pointers work here so make sure that you have the right ones for your mobile and camera chargers
Most big train stations have only 'Mr Clean' loos which could cost you anything between one to four Francs depending on gender and er, use. Using the reasonably clean ones in the train before getting off is a better idea
Ticket collectors in trains are very friendly and double up as travel consultants and babysitters. Feel free to ask them anything. Ideally about the town you are going to
Shopping is fairly expensive here so write a lot of blog posts as gifts for your friends at home :)

Will add to this as I think of more

A Christmas Story ... Camp Lucerne

2009-09-25T01:12:00.000-07:00

Remember I was crying over our not having enough days at Lucerne and at the Hotel Waldstatterhof last evening?

Checked my mail after blogging and saw that we have THREE and not two nights here.

Ran up and told K who in her excitement had a M&M Mac Flurry at Macdonalds and has declared that it is the best ice cream in the world as it has 'M&M in every bite.'

K was always also telling me in the morning that it would have been nice if we could stay an extra day at Dubai at my aunt's on the way back. The first thing I saw when I opened mail last evening was that the Emirates flight from Dubai was cancelled and that we had been. So we are trying to get an extra night beyond the two we are spending there.

Truly Christmas time. Or should I say Durga Pujo.

Off to a day trip to addictive Bern in a while.

Luverly Luzerne and the wonderful Hotel Waldstatter Hof...camp Lucerne

2009-09-24T11:29:00.000-07:00

In case you've been reading Faraway Diaries you would have read about our Interlaken and City Oberland woes.

Well, seems like Thor is smiling again. Or is it something to do with the fact that today is Shoshti, the first day of Durga Pujo, the biggest festival of us Bengalis?

Our desire to get out of Interlaken was so acute that K and I got up well in time and reached the station before the train did. So for once there was no DDLJ scampering into the train moment.

We landed at Lucerne, or Luzerne, as the local call it and exclaimed Oh my God in unison, a bit like Janice in FRIENDS.

It seemed like the Europe once again. There was a nip in the air. Church steeples all around. Flowers. Bridges over crystal clear rivers. Paradise regained.

Interlaken was a distant, damned memory.

We entered our hotel, Hotel Waldstatterhof (a tongue twister). This was the first time that we stayed in a hotel that happened to be mentioned in the Lonely Planet. This is just opposite the station. Looks like an Old Gothic building. We entered the cheerful red lobby. Was greeted warmly unlike the reception we got from 'Jungfrown' at the devil's lair, Hotel City Oberland.

We went to our room and K began to do a song and dance number which would do a Yash Chopra heroine proud.

The room was so lovely. If Villa Toscane was aristocratic, Christiana was like a cottage from the Andersen brothers, Oberland the bear's pit ... then this was an uber cool wonder. Very modern. Very chic inside the Vicotorian facade. Wooden flooring. A lovely modern artish green and red screen over the bed, a cheerful red leather arm chair, a very well desigen bathroom with steel and chrome plumbing and a sparkling glass shower cubicle - small and yet with spunk like a young Lolita... electronically operated screens which opened to a vernadah from an era gone by. Electric kettle for the first time in Switzerland.

Kainaz described this as the best hotel room that we have stayed in abroad ... and this was in comparison to contenders such as Amari Orchid Pattaya, Berjaya Langkawi, Marmara Istabul and Musem Hotel Cappadocia, which is saying a lot.

It is almost as if the universe had read my City Oberland woes and decided to reward us.

And the staff are so sweet. The recognise us by face though its just been a few hours and take out our room keys without our having to give the numbers. And the friendly gentleman manning the reception right now said that I can use the net for a while today without having to pay. Which I thought was a very kind gesture.

Such a relief after staying in a horrible hotel where I had to fight a grumpy gnome to change a lousy room.

Our only complaint to our travel agent would be about why are for two days here while we were for three days in Oberland and Interlaken?

Luzerne's great as a city too. We went to a museum next door and saw tons of original paintings by Picasso and photographs of him. Boy, did he sleep through art class or what?

Went out and walked through the old bridge which was burnt in a fire and restored, saw the prison tower, stumbled upon a Mass in the biggest church here with two huge spires. The huge Lion Monument which Mark Twain called the saddest statue in the history of man. And a park where there is a crater from when a glacier rolled down million years back.

In between had a lovely ham pate croissant and some very good coffee by the river in the evening chill. Kainaz finally found a shop with some reasonably priced clothes and the future holds forth a lot of shopping and possibly a river cruise squeezed in and more Starbucks Coffee.

There is a Mac D next there and I can loudly say that when it comes to Lucerne, I am lovin it.

Addicted to Bern ... camp Bern

2009-09-23T10:24:00.000-07:00

We tried to give Interlaken another chance. Went to the nearby lake, Neuhausen, not a patch on the Montreux lake, nothing inspiring, no place to sit and we ran back after a never ending wait for a bus.

What about Jungfrau you will say. True, Interlaken is a feeder town to hit the mountains. But we already did that in Zermatt and each of these trips cost a lot.

So we jumped frantically into a train at Interlaken and went straight into the laps of Bern which we have just fallen in love with. The meandering walks down the lovely Gothic buildings. The unexpected food delights - gelatos, steaks, chocolates and crepes popping every two steps, cobbled streets, friendly people, big smiles, giggly babies balancing on precarious blocks in the park, Far Eastern tourists marching the streets, cameras in hand, a medley of shops selling wares ranging from Prada to wooden puppets to handmade cheese to postcard of old ads to piggy banks in the form of cuddly cows ...cheerful red trams, never needed because of short distances ... Gothic squares, quiches, cafes, roadside waffles and Mc Donalds

We are truly addicted to Bern.

Getting over Hotel Oberland ... Camp Bern

2009-09-23T10:02:00.000-07:00

This is my first post dedicated to a hotel. which is funny considering that the last three hotels (two here and park Hyatt at Goa) that I stayed in were so divine.

I was cribbing about Oberland yesterday. Felt perked up at Bern. Headed back. To a hotel room where the beds looked worse than if they had been made by me. And that calls for a lot. The pillows weren't fluffed. There were strands of hair all over the bed ... hopefully ours. And there was the odd crumpled tissue lying on the floor.

And this is an upper mid range hotel! And after we stayed at the aristocratic Villa Toscane at Montreux and the prince's mountain retreat like Christiana at Zermatt.

Should have know what to expect when we lugged our luggage and got into a musty lift. When we got a card when we entered the room which said 'we will be charged money if the bathroom flooded... that the bathroom didn't have a drain. That we would be charged if we took away the 'room decorations'. We looked around the gloomy room with stained carpets and eighties German kitsch brown tiled stinky bathroom and wondered, 'what decorations?' When we opened the window and almost banged our head against the window of the adjacent house. When we got our room changed for a better view and fewer square feet and a stained pot in the loo. When we were told that we would be charged as we had stayed in the first room for a couple of hours. When we were welcomed in the morning breakfast with a sign which said 'don't pack your food'. When I looked at the bathroom mirror which instead of the usual flowery spiel on the envt they tersely wrote ' we wash a lot of towels everyday. A lot of them are unused. Please help us conserve the environment'. When they wrote that they could give us a fan, electric kettle, iron etc for a deposits of 100 francs or 5000 Rs. When I saw that instead of toiletry bottles they put a one size fits all - hair, face, body gel - in a tube attached to the wall. When the key card didn't work twice in succession. When they didn't clean the cobwebs in the verandah grills despite my asking them to. I would have myself but that might qualify as 'taking away' their property.

I can go on and on. But there is a silver lining. We are leaving tomorrow :)

After the last few inspired suggestions this was a big let down from our T A.

And someone should tell the guys at Oberland that surprise surprise that most guests here (50 p c Indian) have travelled the world and have stayed in real hotels.

Bern free

2009-09-22T10:35:00.000-07:00

Just figured out the best thing to do in Interlaken ... head to Bern.

And that's so possible in Switzerland. You just skip across trains with your Swiss Railway pass and keep yodelling across the plains and valleys.

And Bern was just what we needed. Cobbled paths. A picture postcard town with a series of early 19th and 20th century European buildings. A bit like Ballard Estate or Fort of Mumbai or Dalhousie of Kolkata but clean, less crowded, well maintained buildings and naturally air conditioned.

And the fragrance of bakeries when one gets off at the station. Hevenly.

After gruff Interlaken we are back to the land of Mary Poppins. Very sweet and friendly people, who are very excited to know that we are from Mumbai.

We saw the loveliest of clock towers, the Parliament Building and then walked into the apartment of someone who turned out to be a funnier Jew than Jerry Seinfield, Alber Einstein. Yes, THE Einstien himself. We went to the apartment where he worked on his theory of relativity. Saw the actual furniture that he used. Comedian? Just saw some of his quotes there. His self deprecating and wry humour was an eye opener for me. Will put up photos later when i am back.

We went to the Munster Cathedral which has the highest tower in Switzerland. K climbed it and said it was a riot of colours. Was bit of a 'Monster Tower' for a calustrophobic person for me.

Shopping was great and we picked some lovely posters - classical ads and stuff.

The icing on the cake is this self service internet cafe that we found. Very cheap after the fortune I blew up blogging yesterday.

Both K and i are typig furiously before we start on our cafe walk to the station where we head back to Interlaken.

Auf wiederschen

Interpatel ... better known as Interlaken (Camp Interlaken)

2009-09-21T14:34:00.000-07:00

K and I had our DDLJ moment today.

(For the uninitiated, Shahrukh Khan met Kajol in the film Dilwale Dulhaniye Le Jayenge in a train in Switzerland just as it was leaving)

We were switching trains at Visp on the way to Interlaken. I stepped across to the Doner Kebab shop while Kainaz waited at the platform. I got a missed call from her and grabbed the Donner Kebab, paid and ran to the train. Jumped in in the nick of time.

Which was a bit symbolicas I had just read in Lonely Planet about how DDLJ led to a rise in Indian tourists in Switzerland. And then we had our DDLJ moment.

And our next town of Interlaken is full of Indian tourists AND shop keepers. Hardly seems like a foreign country. Interlaken isquite dull and doesn't have the buzz of a Geneva or even of the smaller, but more lively and beautiful, Zermatt.

Our hotel, City Oberlands, is not a patch on our earlier hotels. Though I managed to get us moved to a better room (stained pot, cobwebs in the verandah, but a better view and nice bright lights and paintings on the wall) after convincing the frowning desk manager whom K call Jungfrown after the Jungfrau mountains here.

No more free biz centre internet so am at an Internet Cafe now.

We have three more days here and I hope things begin to pick up.

Wish us luck!

Swiss Serendipity.... Camp Zermatt

2009-09-21T00:09:00.000-07:00

I'd asked Dilber, our super duper travel agent, for an itinerary before we left for Switzerland. She replied saying that the thing about a Switzerland holiday was that you don't make plans, that you discover your own Switzerland.

I knew that she wasn't being lazy because she had guided us wonderfully at Turkey last year.

And this is what I've found out so far.

The Jazz Festival headquarters of Montreux can get quite empty when there is nothing on. And that's why the walk by it's lake can be so enchanting. That you have to go to the neighbouring town to get a Starbucks cappuccino. That the neighbouring town is ten minutes away. And that the Starbucks shuts by 7 PM. Unlike Gloria Jeans that welcomes us to Bandra even when we return at midnight.

And, as Kainaz said, Chandler is not as funny in French.

We discovered that all those who said Switzerland would be without character should say that while standing in front of the fairytale-like Chillon Castle. Or outside the Red Cross Museum or the UN Building. That both of these shut by roughly four in the evening. That Lonely Planet, for once, was wrong. You do have to pay an entry fee for the Red Cross Museum. Which has a very genial bearded elf at the reception who helps wipe away your disappointment at the shut museum. That it is not a problem if you missed these. You can head back again from the neighbouring town of Montreux in a train. Because the magical Swiss pass, as Dilber promised, opens gates to anything, again and again.

That the trip was totally worth it when you stand at the sobering Red Cross Museum. Or when you walk awestruck from conference room to conference room in the UN Building. Following the steps of Mandela, Clinton, Castro and Arafat. Past the room where the world huddled when India and Pakistan went nuclear. And yet 'Buddha would smile' (code for Vajpayee to tell him the Pokhran nuclear test was successful) when ever we met Pakistanis... we have always had some lovely encounters with friendly Pakistanis over the years at Thailand's floating market, at Istanbul's Grand Bazar and while looking for directions to Cabbages and Condoms at Bangkok and the Paradise Chalet at Montreux. Many more than we have with Indians abroad. As Floyd said 'leaders (OK OK) leave us kids alone).

That the best place to get the Turk national snack of Doner Kebab is not Istanbul, but outside Visp station in Switzerland. That ticket collectors in Swiss trains are the friendliest creatures in the world, and would give Santa a run for his money. We specially remember the happily yodelling gentleman at the train from Visp to Zermatt who would patiently answer all our questions. No matter how often we repeated them. And that they never check for tickets in buses and trams here.

That the friendliest concierge in the world is Frank who mans the desk at the magical and quaint Hotel Christiana where I am writing this from . He welcomed us when we reached, after a long day of some million train rides across three cities 'with a heartfelt 'Mrs Karmakar, we missed you...' And who spent close to an hour with me yesterday trying to transfer my photos from the camera to the pen drive. That conquering the French Keyboard at Montreux was of no use. They have German ones at Zermatt! That my trilling bon jour and merci was of no use here. This is the land of the German Dangke and Auf Widerschen. Muttering which in strange accents are not required as they reply in English to my attempts at German.

That the closest competition to the East German Frank was his female counterpart, Mikkenain, in the morning who patiently guided us to the majestic Matterhorn.

That we could roll out of bed and look at the majestic Matterhorn of Toblerone chocolate packs. That we could go mountaineering. Bengali style. A few cable car rides and you are on top of the Matterhorn glacier. The many layers, thermals, woolen socks and gloves that seemed so superfluous when we bought them in a hot afternoon at Bandra's Linking Road ... all came to the party here. And yet nothing worked like a tight hug in the icy Glacier Palace. Wrapping one's hands around a warm cappuccino cup helped too. And on the icy peaks of Matterhorn, we learnt that Bollywood is famous in distant Poland too.

That 'hiking, down the mountain meant skipping down a well made road. That God rewarded you for the effort as a quaint little village fair came out of nowhere as you walked down. With lovely 'raclette' - slice of cheese, smoked and melted, with jacket potatoes - to reward you in its merry tents.

And the final walk back the town square where you mysteriously walk into a chocolate shop called 'boitte a chocolate'. Find the most amazing chocolate. And another of Santa's grandchildren, the lovely, friendly Swede girl, Alexandra who leads you to the creamiest and tastiest hot chocolate ever in the poetic petite cafe upstairs.

Oh, and remember the wooden cottages with sloped roofs and little posies in the window in fairy tale books we grew up on? They are all there at Zermatt.

Interlaken later today. And a billion more discoveries I am sure.

Coffee, cultures, conversations, cheese

2009-09-17T11:02:00.000-07:00

a chat with an Uruguayan settled in Argentina about Calcutta football... watching a presentation comparing market search with a restaurant...the Stravinsky hall, base of the Montreux Jazz festival, filled with market researchers... tender slices of roast beef... fresh poached fish ... a chat with a wise and warm African American couple about the new socialism in the US and watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S in Mumbai... Swiss blue cheese, American bourbon ... a Nigerian presenting on the recession with a big self deprecating smile ... Starbucks coffee with the wife in the neighbouring town of Vevey in between conference and banquet ... work emails on phone ... picture postcard buildings... chatting with a German from Cologne on Indian culture and A R Rahman... Waga borderish exchanges of visiting cards all around... the frantic ones ticking off their networking lists... bright flowers ... a computer with rigour mortis and stalled apell, sorry 'spell', check.. weary bones, wondering if one can stay up in the banquet coming up... an understated anxiety about the next day... and a bit of hope and crossed fingers

Need Tony Bourdain to sum it up in his soulful, singsong manner

Mumbai rocks... Metrotwin Mumbai

2009-09-17T00:45:00.000-07:00

Hey, this is something very close to my heart and a dream come true for me.

Metro twin http://mumbai.metrotwin.com/ is a BA effort to add colour to Mumbai for foreign travellers. I am a strong believer in the tourism potential of Mumbai and India.

A lot of things suck in terms of infrastructure but there's so much to see and do here, there is so much character. We just need to get people excited. We can give tons of popular destinations a run for their money. We can't fix the roads and loos and the Governmental apathy but we can definitely help build the romance of India. The rest will change I am sure.

So please introduce Metrotwin Mumbai to your friends overseas.

Let's spread the Mumbai story.

Welcome to Europe ... (Montreux Live)

2009-09-17T00:14:00.000-07:00

We got off at Montreux airport after breaking at Lousanne.

Couldn't fine anyone who understood English at the station. Very different from the English yodellers at Zurich airport.The only French we knew between the two of us was Kainaz's Parles no Francais (If i've got it right).

A few broken directions later the two of us pulled our strolleys down the winding lanes of Montreux. The town looked like a picture postcard. Correction. It didn't then. I had a Polaris missile of a headache from hours of travelling.

After a while of strenuous tricep and bicep flexing we reached our hotel Villa Toscane, our hotel. A restored villa. Looked as picturesque as promised. We reached the reception.

There was no one there! You apparently have to go to the Royalé Plaza hotel opposite the road to check in. I went. Was give the keys. End of story. No porters, etc.

We went up to our room. It was dainty, clean, smartly done AND was the smallest hotel room in the world. The bathroom was the size of a loo in an Indian train with the trappings of the regal Place on Wheels trains of Rajasthan perhaps.

You needed the grace of a Russian ballerina to get around the suitcases and the bed and your shoes. And the yogic flexibility of Baba Ramdev to sit on the pot of the very petite, as they say here, loo.

I have neither.

Kainaz and I looked at each other and said aah this must be what they mean when they speak about the tiny hotel rooms of Europe and its do it yourself service. 'Where else can you wake up and see a lake and a mountain rising above it lost in the clouds' said K to comfort me. And I reconciled mysel to my Ian Wright experience.

We remained naively understanding till I met a few friends who booked a week back and said that they had huge rooms in the same hotel.

We had booked three months back.

So I walked politely to the reception during the break after I presented my paper on the second day. The normal thing to do would be to storm down and not 'walk politely'. But I am not a storming sort of person. And everyone is so sweet and friendly here.

In hushed tones I told the girl at the reception that we had booked three months back but our room was very small which was a bit difficult to live in and could do they please lease do something since we were here for five nights.

In equally hushed tones, she said she'd try and two minutes later gave us a key to another room.

This room was huge, regal, the bathroom was as big as the earlier room, opened onto a private terrace at one side and a huge private balcony on the other. Both faced the lake, on the mountain, lost in the crowd etc etc.

If the earlier room was from Ian Wright's backpacking world then this was more from Samantha Brown's indullgent travels. (Both are hosts on Discovery Travel & Living)

I was so happy that, at the risk missing lunch at the conference, I packed our bags and we shifted immediately.

The conference beckons so more later.

Note: Unlike at the station English takes you quite a distance in the rest of the city. The colour of the skin is a good indicator. Dark shades starting from brown in this multiracial country are more comfortable in English. Everything, except the restaurants, shut by 6.30 PM. And the people are very sweet, straight out of a Mary Poppins set.

The reverse spice trail (Live)

2009-09-16T23:52:00.000-07:00

We are at sleepy Montreux in Switzerland now. Am here for a conference. A fairly empty town. A contrast from packed Mohamed Ali Road in my last night at Mumbai. I have a feeling that our conference has tripled the population of the city.

We then break and go to Lucerene, Zermatt and Interlaken. Hope I get the net there for live updates. Blogging furiously from the hotel conference centre here.

We came via Dubai as I wanted to meet my aunt on the way back. At the risk of someone I know telling me I told you so, avoid break journeys. Specially if you have a crashed out travel agent. The night before we left I realised that we were scheduled to spend 8 hrs at the Dubai airport while going thanks to her uninspired booking. And we've been at this for three months!!!!!!!!

A few frantic calls, and a desperate attempt to save my marriage (I had visions of K storming out of my life after hour six at Dubai) the very helpful guys at Emirates suggested a morning flight with a two hour break and a minor rescheduling fee. I breathed again.

I must say that Emirates turned out to be one of the most pleasant and helpful international airlines that I have ever flown and the comfortable seats and leg space, even in coach, helped us sleep like babies.

Got of at Zurich airport. The staff at the enquiry counter were very helpful, yodelled happily in English in response to whatever you ask and were probably my grandparent's seniors in school.

We took our suitcases, crossed the airport and got into train station just as Dilber, our super duper fantastic travel agent and friend, had told us with the Super Saver Swiss pass she advised us to buy.

What my other crashed out TA, who did the conference part of the trip, didn't tell us was that Zurich to Montreux was a four hour break journey and that we'd reach at six!

Lesson in life, if you find a great travel agent like Dilber, hold on to her with your dear life. Metaphorically of course. She guided us on our lovely Turkey trip earlier.

The Swiss trains weren't a hassle. We put our strolleys beside us. Seats weren't reserved in second class but it was quite empty, clean. Dirty loos from what I heard. The windows were big and the view was suppose to be great. Don't ask us. We slept most peacefully.

Swiss dreams

2009-09-08T13:46:00.000-07:00

A trip which was in the offing for close to four months is about to start on Sunday night. I am going to Montreux to present a paper at a conference.

Honestly, Yash Chopra- land was not on our holiday list. But Kainaz and I decided to use this opportunity and have a little trip around that. So Montreux would be followed by Zermatt, Interlaken, Lucerne and Zurich and possibly a two day stop over at Dubai where you can be assured that we won't go to the Snow Mall!

I can see a lot of chocolates and cheese in the trip. And clocks won't feature prominently once the fun part begins. After the trip is over we won't have any funds to bother banks, Swiss or otherwise.

Would love to hear from you if you know more about Switzerland than the cliches that I mentioned - weather in September, clothes to carry, places to eat, good books to read while there.

And I promise to fill the blog up once we are back.

Cheers

Singing in the rain... South Goa in the Monsoons

2009-07-15T08:21:00.000-07:00

To me a trip to Goa is a bit like Seinfield. It is about doing nothing.

We normally head to Baga in North Goa in February. A typical day goes like this - wake up, go to Lila's Cafe and have breakfast, go to the shacks on the beach and stretch out with a beer and a book, head to Brittos, eat, go back to the hotel, sleep, walk down the Baga Calangute road and reluctantly trail Kainaz as she shops, go to Infantaria, eat, go to the hotel, sleep.

Too much activity?

Then South Goa in the monsoons is just what you need.

The monsoons (rains) are fairly heavy in Goa. The tourist season closes. Beach shacks disappear. The sea becomes wild as an untamed stallion. Most street shops vanish. Restaurants operate with a few minimum tables. Budget hotels, where we stay in winter, become damp and dank. And five stars are available at reduced prices.

North Goa is the 'happening' part of Goa. In season, its beaches such as Baga and Calangute rock. It is quite addictive with its high adrenalin discs, lively shacks, water sports, glorious food, flee markets

South Goa in contrast is staid and genteel. It has a number of luxurious hotel properties. They match the best in the world. Taj Exotica and Leela are some of the legendary hotels which dot its beaches.

In my book South Goa hotels just don't add up to Goa. You could be anywhere in the world and experience this luxury. Which is a good argument to use if you can't afford them in the first place!

Last weekend I dipped into my pension fund and booked us into the Park Hyatt to fulfil a long standing dream of Kainaz. Given the way the markets behave these days this was quite a good use of one's pension fund.

And this is what I found. A hotel which was right up there with the very best. With a bathroom which was divided into three sections and had a sunken bath. With a staff who had thoughtfully given us a room in a secluded area where I could sit in the balcony and gaze for hours at the sea as I heard it roar. And it was good to have a room in the corner as the hotel was jam packed with guests. Economic slowdown by damned.

The weather was lovely... bursts of rain followed by cool breeze which smoothed our creased city brows. An empty beach where we strolled for miles after we left the odd hotel guests behind. Well, it seemed like miles though K wanted to walk a lot more.

The sea was as rebellious as a flower child from the seventies. Waves came crashing in through the day. And it kicked up quite a ruckus. The sea looked really majestic and proud. We walked on the wet sand but I did see the odd person flapping around in the water under the eyes of the hotel life guards. One sight that stayed in my mind is that of fisher boy plying his trade against the might of nature. Humbling and yet inspiring.

Goa in the rains is as green as the garden of Eden. The roads, the hills, the coast was covered with a rich, fresh green which was the most relaxing sight that I have ever seen. Paradise is a word often used to describe Goa. So why go against the grain?

There is nothing like a good hotel South Goa during the monsoons if you want to pamper yourself and lose yourself for a while.

But I'd take North Goa in February, four times out of five.

Paradise regained in forty five minutes...Mandwa beach

2009-05-16T00:43:00.000-07:00

Remember those scenes in movies such as Pretty Women or even in F.R.I.E.N.D.S where the heroine is leaving town at the end and the hero hasn't stated his feelings for her? And then he realises his mistake and runs to catch up with her. Often goaded by a friend. Usually he reaches the airport or train station late and then finds that she is waiting for her. And then they live happily ever after.

Well something like this happened to me recently. Except in my case the woman was replaced by an idyllic sea beach!

OK, this is a long story so please be patient or skip the next paragraph.

A few of our friends had made plans to go to Mandwa last Wednesday. I wasn't sure as I had a meeting on Wednesday. That got cancelled and I thought I will join them. Then I felt quite nauseous and had a headache on Tuesday night. So I told Kainaz to join the gang on Wednesday while I stayed home. K left for the Gateway next morning while I stayed back. Then I began to have second thoughts as I felt that I was missing out on an opportunity to do something different. That's when K's mama called me and said "what are you doing, just drop everything, jump into a cab and go". Pretty much like Phoebe in F.R.I.E.N.D.S and the hotel manager in Pretty Woman. I began to consider going when he called me again and screamed, "you are still not in the cab, what are you doing?!". I quickly exchanged my jammies for a pair of jeans, brushed my teeth and darted out. Well Kainaz and our friends who had set off early in the morning skipped the 8.30 AM catamaran for me. I arrived just in time for the 9.15 AM ferry and we set sail for Mandwa. I threw up over the side of the ferry as we reached Mandwa and the world seemed beautiful again.

The fairly empty and secluded beach of Mandwa is a forty five minute to an hour's boat ride from the Gateway of India in South Mumbai.

Mandwa is the entry to the more popular beaches of Alibagh and Kihim which are off Mumbai. You can reach Mandwa by a ferry or a catamaran. These leave the Gateway every hour and tickets range from Rs 60 to Rs 90 (1 to 2 USD) depending on the size of the boat. This service is closed in the monsoon months, approximately June to September. During these months you can reach Mandwa by a three hour drive. There are buses to take you from Mandwa to Kihim and Alibagh. The price for these are included in your ferry ticket and you don't have to pay separately for this.

Now the thing with Mandwa is that it is literally cut off from civilisation. It is not developed unlike Kihim or Alibagh. You have a few shops selling soft drinks, wafers and biscuits and a public loo at the jetty. Apart from that there is a tiny snack bar with a few tables and chairs run by a person called Guru. You get a few local snacks such as vada pao and missal pao and soft drinks and tea.

The beach is a bit rocky but if you are intrepid enough then you can base yourself at Gurus and spend some time at the beach. I believe that there are spots where you can swim too.

We didn't have to do any of this as two of our friends were members of the Royal Bombay Yacht Club. They took us to the Mandwa Club. Before you get any images of a fancy club let me tell you that Mandwa Club is just a little outpost with a few rooms and toilets and a verandah with easy chairs and sofas. They don't have a restaurant but you can get your own food and warm it in the kitchen. One of our friends got some lovely Chinese from 5 Spice and we had a great lunch by the sea. There is one, ancient attendant who runs the place.

There were six of us that lazy afternoon, by the sea. The lovely breeze brushed away the pressures and pains of the week. We chatted, we lazed, we stretched, we ate, we giggled ... some of us went into the sea and flapped around. I was really glad that I went as I felt very refreshed and rejuvenated... cut off from mad, manic Mumbai. If nature had a spa... then this would be one.

We sat back for Mumbai by the 4.30 PM catamaran. The last boat leaves at 6 PM.

You can stay overnight at the Mandwa Club if you know someone at the Royal Bombay Yacht Club. In fact they have a more modern set up called beside the Mandwa Club which has two rooms and a kitchen. This is air conditioned, has better bathrooms and is more modern. Both of these are right on the sea.

But I'd recommend going to Mandwa with a good book, a picnic basket and a beach towel if you are the sort who likes open spaces, likes the sea, wants a break and is fine with roughing it out a bit.

And definitely if you are lucky enough to have Jamshed Adrianvala as your friend.

Credits:
Jamshed Uncle: for organising the trip and waiting patiently for me
Shahazad: for the lovely Chinese from 5 Spice. Excellent choice of dishes
Rita and Malka: for making us break into peals of laughter
Freddy Mama: for his calls goading me to go
Kainaz: through whom I know the rest of the cast and for living with my indecisiveness

History lesson: Apparently the Mandwa Club was started after the Royal Bombay Yacht Club was opened at Bombay during the British rule of India. The Royal Bombay Yacht Club was meant for the higher officers of the British Army and navy. Ordinary folks from the ranks who liked to sail complained that there was nothing for them. That's when the Mandwa Club was set up. What's remarkable was the location chosen for the club. There was nothing around the area at that time but people had the foresight to pick this spot. The Mandwa Jetty is fairly recent and has come up in the last decade.

Country mouse: Malacca, Malaysia, 2006

2009-03-04T12:15:00.000-08:00

The problem with Malacca was that we had gone to Ayuthaya the previous year.

Ayuthaya was the ancient capital of Siam. A majestic city with opulent palace grounds and ravaged monastries, carefully preserved for tourists, a day trip from Bangkok.

We gave a similar brief to our travel agent - day trip from KL, mind blowing history. The closest we could come up with was Malacca. So we headed to Malacca looking for another Ayuthaya.

Well, it was a day trip from Kl by bus, as Ayuthaya was from Bangkok. That's where the similarity ended.

No grand palace here. It was billed as a 'historical city' but there were very little attempts to bring alive this history. It struck one more like being an average a small town.

One must admit that there was the cultural diversity Malaysia (Truly Asia) is famous for. We saw a Chinese temple and ambled down the lanes of a Chinese village. A nice peaceful walk down the country but not comparable to the regal grandeur and history one got used to in neighbouring Thailand.

And it was not all about Chinese villages and Buddhist temples. We came across a red coloured church in the town square. But there was no one to tell us anything special about either the town or the Church. And we were with a fairly expensive day tour.

The red theme seemed quite common to Malacca. Later in the day we went up what seemed like an old fort. From there we could look down at the pier of what presumably was the Malaccan Streets. And in the distance were a number a red houses with red roofs. They painted quite a pretty picture.

You would have noticed that a couple of things were left to conjecture in the previous paragraph. That's because the Malaysians did not share the Thai knack of showcasing themselves for tourists. The guides in Malaysia were quite reticent compared to those in Thailand. And we were yet to discover Lonely Planet then.

All in all, Malacca was a nice break from the urban landscapes of KL. Thousand things to see before I die? Perhaps in the late 900s.

Of course, holidays are not just about what a place has to offer. Often memories are built beyond this.

Looking at our photos reminded me of two Oriental ladies who wanted to photograph themselves with Kainaz and me at the town square. And this was before Danny Boyle put us brown skins on the red carpet.

And then there were these guys with pythons to take photos with. Kainaz, who loves snakes, promptly got a picture taken with a yellow python. Then she pulled me against my better judgement to join her and her friend for a pic. I can't say that having the wet, slithery, weight around my neck was a high point of the trip! I am quite proud of my calm smile though.

Traveller's notes:

Malacca is about a 3-4 hr bus ride from KL

We went on an organised tour which picked us from the hotel

We had a Chinese dinner at a restaurant there which was part of the package

You are better taking a 'Lonely Planet' or equivalent because the tour guides are fairly basic

I give you good price: Baga, Goa 2009

2009-02-25T12:42:00.000-08:00

Don't be surprised if you are walking down the streets of Baga and hear a voice cry out for you in an accent which is a mix of Nicole Kidman, Kate Winslett and Meryl Streep. Chances are that you will turn around and see a waif like urchin, straight out of Slumdog Millionaire.

Baga, at Goa is lined with little shops which sell clothes, shoes, spices, fake watches, overpriced artifacts and curios and what have you. The clothes are quite kitsch and trendy and don't be surprised to find a Bob Marley tee shirt beside a Mahatma Gandhi one. The quality? Well if you are bothered about that then you shouldn't shop from the streets in the first place.

These shops normally spring up during season (November to March) and are often manned by girls and women who speak in very exaggerated English accents which they have picked up from foreign tourists.

Bargaining is the norm here. But this year is exceptional. You can get some amazing deals thanks to the recession, terrorist threat and subsequent trickle of tourists. Usually one gives a counter offer of half the quoted price and settles somewhere in between. This year you will often be surprised to see that your first offer itself is taken up as the sellers are quite desperate.

Some of the prices that we saw after bargaining were:

tee shirts - Rs 75 - 150
skirts/ sarongs - Rs 100 - 200
shorts- Rs 100 - Rs 150
fake watches - Rs 200
'pashmina' shawls - Rs 100 (plain). Rs 175 (with designs)
Water sports!: para sailing at Rs 300 after initial quotes of Rs 600
Sling bags/ 'jhollas' - Rs 100
Rs 100 = 2 USD

Frankly I hate wasting time shopping during holidays. But there was no stopping Kainaz or my brother this year. In fact junior turned out to be quite a shopper as he darted from shop to shop. As for Kainaz, she headed for the shops like a homing pigeon. The way I would head to the nearerst prawn chilly joint I guess.

Though I must say that I was quite excited by some of the quaint Rajasthani tiles, lamps and hooks that we picked up for the house

Traveler's notes:

Hotel prices of the small guest houses had gone down too. Though the mid level places held their prices
Food prices at restaurants remain constant though. I guess there are those who shop and those who don't. But everyone eats!

James Bong: Water Sports in Goa, Goa 2009

2009-02-18T02:31:00.000-08:00

I love Goa. I love the somnolent mood... the relaxed, friendly, faces... the sleep inducing meals...the cheap beer and the port wine...the balmy ocean breeze. It is just the place to unwind.

My routine at Goa reads - wake up, have a lazy breakfast, curl up on a deck chair on the beach with a book, sleep, eat, go to the hotel room and sleep, wake up, coffee, amble down the streets, eat, sleep. Repeat. To me Goa is the ideal mix of a sleep holiday with great food.

My idea of water sports is lying on a beach bed looking dreamily at the distant horizons. That's how we spent our holidays for the last four to five years at Baga, Goa.

Cut to 2009 when my brother and mom joined us.

I started telling them about the food at Goa, good places to eat, the Churches tour, the hotels ... when my little brother (he wants to be called that) cut me short and said "what about water sports", and went on to announce his plans to para sail and jet around.

And then we begun on a very different holiday. He went para sailing. So did Kainaz (see picture below). We had operators who went up with us.

I did too. Yes you heard me right! I went against my better judgment. I won't deny that it was quite an experience sailing through the skies as the boat tugged you along. I did look at the green sea and the coconut forests...it was amazing... only problem was that I opened my eye for just about two seconds!

But that didn't deter junior who went into the water jetting in a water scooter (he enjoyed this the most), he went parasailing again without an operator, waded deep into the sea and flopped into the waves.

My Mom would keep fretting about my brother but he would jet back into the sea leaving us oldies together (don't know if Kainaz would agree to being called that). I think my mom even gave my brother a dressing down on the beach, on his twenty seventh birthday!

We went in a 'slow motor' boat where we had a short ride into the sea which was really nice. The sea water was just below us. The coast looked really pretty. The ride lasted for about ten minutes. Mom joined us for the boat ride. Turned out that she was quite keen on this.

Next year? I will be back to my favourite water sport for sure.

Travel notes:

We were at Baga beach and water sports are available in season (November - March)
Average prices of the rides ranged from Rs 600 - 300 (12 - 6 USD), the boat ride was Rs 100 (2 USD)
Prices vary by operator. Guys in the middle of the stretch, which was less crowded, would charge Rs 600. The guys at the crowded end would charge Rs 300 for the same ride
Prices were depressed with the recession this year but bargaining seems to be the norm
You don't need to know how to swim for most of these
The dog in the picture is called 'Brownie' and belongs to Love Shack

On a break

2009-02-03T13:50:00.001-08:00

We are off to Goa tomorrow for my brother and my birthdays and plan to come back after kilos of good meals on Sunday. This is our first birthday together in ten years. My first birthday with my Mom in ten years. A very different Goa trip from usual. Kainaz has supported my annual birthday trip to Goa so far. I wonder where that will stand after this trip. Keep commenting. Will love to read them once I am back.

Number 3

2009-01-27T03:54:00.000-08:00

I started my third blog, Mumbai Coffee House, today.

I have often felt constrained by the fact that my current blogs are about food and travel. Doesn't give one the scope to write on life beyond food and travel. I heard there is such a thing.

Coincidentally I started it on a day when I complete ten years at Mumbai. If that doesn't fill one up with experiences, then nothing would.

Making love out of nothing at all: Singapore 2004, 2008

2009-01-21T00:16:00.000-08:00

I thought I’ll follow up my post on KL with Singapore. The same person who had asked about KL had put up a query on what to do over a day at Singapore too.

I really admire and envy Singapore. Their vision is fantastic. In a way they are the Vegas of the Far East. They have made this amazing city out of nothing. They are very clear, London has the eye? Make a bigger one. It snows in Christmas? Make artificial snow here. Australia has a Coral Reef? They have Sentosa. And so the story continues.

In India we have the British colonial buildings at South Mumbai and Kolkata’s Dalhousie, a historical monument in every second road of Delhi, a Chinatown (Tangra) at Calcutta, a pub crawler’s trail at Bangalore…yet these guys at Singapore go to town and make tourist attractions out of their Chinatowns, Little Indias and colonial hotels and cricket clubs. Hats off to them. We have our swamps such as the Tolly Nullah at Kolkata, the Mithi River at Mumbai, the Yamuna at Delhi and yet these guys at Singapore make hot party spots out of their river dumps at Clark Quay and relaxed riverside café joints at Boat Quay. We have a rich history going back to the Stone Age and a freedom struggle which has thrown up leaders the world admire. Yet these guys have built lovely museums – places where you feel like going even if the ‘history’ is at times younger than one’s age.

I have made two work trips to Singapore so far. And can think of enough things to do. And I have not even been to the famous amusement island of Sentosa!

Well first things first. Singapore in my opinion is truly the food capital of the world. You get all cuisines and at all prices. The people speak English so it’s not that difficult to get what one wants even if one has food restrictions (vegetarians rejoice). And for those who don’t beef, pork, fowl, venison, quail… you will get it all there.

A visit to the food courts or hawker centres is a must. These are the most economical places to eat. You have myriad stalls – Chinese, Thai, Philipino, sandwiches, Indian (dosas, mughlai). You place your order and then eat at the plastic tables in the centre. You will find these all over the city but Lau Pa Sat and East Coast are some of the nice one’s to go to.

For something more exciting and glitzy, go to Clark Quay, the river front, especially at night. This is the food Ibiza with laser lights, modern steel and chrome restaurants, belly dancers and even Bollywood lighting up the night. The food spread here is even broader with German, Italian, Mongolian, Indian, Persian, Tibetian and what have you.

Boat Quay, the other river front, is slightly more relaxed and frumpy compared to Clark Quay. They have quite a few pubs too based on the pubs of English. Plus nice river front sea food joints.

A visit to the Night Safari is worth it. Coming so close to animals, though in a typically antiseptic environment, is quite cool. Going to a zoo is one thing but seeing the creatures of the night lose, separated by a glass pane from you, is quite cool. They had a nice live show also. You can walk the trail or go on a little train inside the safari. It’s an hour’s bus ride from the city centre. You get food there too though its slightly more expensive than the city.

Singapore has its share of glitzy malls and of course the famous shopping street of Orchard City. Shopping is expensive here but walking down these streets and the malls can be a nice experience especially if you are into window shopping. The variety is still more than what you get in India. And they often have sales going on.

The trick is to go the famous Mustafa Shopping Centre at Little India if you are on the lookout for a good deal. This place is open 24X7 and is crowded as a Virar local or a Kolkata private bus. It used to be very popular for buying cheap branded stuff. Frankly not that a big deal if you live at Mumbai now with Alfa, Circuit City, My Dollar Store and the Gujarati food imported food shops. Still it’s worth a visit for the sheer range. Quite a Singapore icon.

The Chinatown is interesting – Chinese temples, houses, trishaws. I went there in the morning so was in and out in half an hour. I reckon that it makes more sense to go at night when the food courts and the road side trinket shops open.

A walk down the City centre, Raffles Square, is nice for its manicured roads and interplay of colonial buildings and modern towers. It looks almost like a lego set or a doll house as do most of the tourist portions of Singapore. Very unreal. At least if you live in India.

Little India, Chinatown, Arab Quarter, Raffles Square... the way Singapore celebrates and packages its multi ethnicity is reallly admirable.

Would I specifically plan a holiday to Singapore? No I wouldn’t. It’s not the cheapest of Far Eastern destinations. Nor does it really have any exotica. Bangkok scores on both (is the Thai tourism board listening). But Singapore is definitely a place where I wouldn’t find it difficult to spend a few days without getting bored.

Traveller's Notes

- The Singapore public transport, especially the subway, is pretty good. You can go to most places such as Chinatown and Little India from the city centre using this
- They have night clubs called K TV or karaoke bars. I think they are pick up joints too. Now who will tell Mr Patil that our dance bars could have been tourist attractions

- Singapore has double decker buses, Duck tours, which are nice ways of getting acclimatized with the city. The actual ‘Duck tour’ is an amphibian vehicle which goes into the river

Kela? KL, Malaysia 2006

2009-01-09T04:47:00.000-08:00

Someone had posted a query on facebook recently – “what can I do if I have six hours at KL?”

I must admit that I was a bit stumped by this question despite our trip to Malaysia couple of years back. I went there for a conference. Kainaz joined me after that and we spent a few days at KL followed by Langkawi in 2006.

The truth is that Kl’s left a blank spot in my mind. I think the KLCC Petronas Towers at KL sum it up – steel, chrome, modern, impressive but robotic.

KL isn’t a bad city. Don’t get me wrong. It is clean, has manicured roads, sparkling malls, it has a variety of restaurants and night clubs. The people are friendly and helpful and speak English

I guess we were a bit spoilt by our trip to Bangkok last year.

Bangkok had Sukhomvit which was very lively and full of character. KL’s Golden Triangle was quite empty by 9 PM. Bangkok had the majestic Royal Palace and the Buddha temples for sightseeing. KL’s sightseeing trip consisted of a national ‘museum’ which had stuff from 1960 or so, Merdeka square – a garden at the end of the day - and batik factories. And the guides were quite perfunctory compared to those at Thailand. Bangkok had lovely street shopping which one could do at Sukhumvit, the Sum Lum night market and the Chatuchaak weekend market. The shopping at KL was largely at malls. The prices were more expensive than India for the same stuff. Bangkok had Cabbages and Condoms and lovely street food. KL had food courts in malls which shut by 9 and the odd food court. Bangkok had Pat Pong. KL was famous for famous night clubs such as Zousk (?) but apparently that’s open only on certain days of the week. You can go to places such as Ayuthaya, Floating Market, River Kwai from Bangkok. You can only go to Genting if you like gambling or amusement parks or to the comparatively drab ‘historical city’ of Malacca from KL.

I don’t want to make this a KL versus Bangkok thing but the point I am trying to make is that going to KL could be like staying in a five star hotel assuming money’s not an issue. The experience is picture perfect but sterile. It is a place to go to if one wants a break. But it didn’t strike me as a place to go to collect memories.

A bit like the word ‘kela’ in Hindi or ‘kola’ in Bengali, this means banana, and is kid’s slang for 'very ordinary'.

Would love to know if you have a different take on KL

Traveller’s notes:

- avoid going during Ramzan, everything shuts early

- public transport such as the subway does not cover the entire city. So stay close to the Golden Triangle as the city is quiet dead for tourists outside this. We stayed in a hotel which was slightly away to save 10 USD per day. Ended up spending much more on cabs. The Tamil expat cabbies or notorious for not following the meter. So look for Chinese cabbies
- The malls have more variety than in India but everything is more expensive than here. Thailand is cheaper
- Liquor is duty free at Langkawi, so cheaper to buy booze there
- Everyone seemed to have seen Shahrukh Khan during the shooting of Don there!

Disclaimer - this article is not sponsored by the Thai ministry of tourism. The writer is open to offers of Bahts from the same though

Stop press: Knife in print

2009-01-05T08:28:00.000-08:00

The story so far.

I love to write. Never got about to doing much about it. Then I discovered blogging. Started my food blog and loved every minute of it.

A few months later I wanted to start a travel blog. To write about another passion of mine.

This is when someone who works in a Mumbai daily got in touch with me. She said that she read my food blog and whether I was interested in writing a piece combining food and travel. And, it had to be a ‘funny’ piece.

I jumped into it and wrote a piece. In fact I first posted it here on faraway diaries.

And about 3,4 months later it was finally printed In The Mumbai Mirror yesterday. Coincidentally, just after we moved into a new apartment.

I know it’s a small step. But I must confess that I am very excited.

Disclaimer: the pun in the heading in the newspaper article isn't mine

True Blue...Bosphorus

2008-12-24T02:11:00.000-08:00

I thought that I must write a year end post on the awesome holiday we had this year at Turkey. I know it lasted just ten days and it did mop up quite a bit of our savings but it has left us behind with the most amazing of memories.

Write since my childhood I had coloured the sky as light blue and the sea as a darker blue in painting class. As I grew up I saw that the sky could still be blue. Except the older I grew the more I spent 'blue sky' hours indoors in offices. And the blue sea? That largely remained a myth. The sea in Mumbai is grey. The one at Goa borders on grey. The river in Kolkata? grey again.

Then I went to Istanbul, the city of the Bosphorus and the Marmara. We could see a glimpse of the sea from our room at the Marmara Palace hotel. Electric blue.

We of course did the customary Bosphorus cruise. This was a dream like experience. I am yet to see the 'Blue Danube' but here the waters were blue enough to make me compose symphonies. We passed by lovely villas, the super expensive Kempinski hotel which is a converted palace, castles, the Blue Mosque and other monuments, the military school where General Musharaf of Pakistan had studied. These were some of the most beautiful sites that one had ever seen. And the breeze? Pure unadulterated Ozone. One felt so far removed from the grime of one's daily grind. It did to my spirit what rounds of botox couldn't do to a rich dowager.

It was definitely one of the most memorable moments of a holiday filled with memorable moments.

Traveller's notes:

You do get night cruises but they defeat the purpose because you will be unable to see much
The Bosphorus cruise ends at a place called Eminonu which is the tram stop for the Spice Market. You can leave the tour here and spend time here as you get much better deals here than at the more popular Grand Bazar.
A Bosphorus cruise is a visual delight. The quality of the guide doesn't really matter. Ours occasionally droned out something perfunctorily while reading the newspaper, speaking on the mobile, snapping at passengers and scratching his head at the captain's deck

Goodbye Gurgaon, Ruby Tuesday

2008-12-23T04:43:00.000-08:00

I was quite happy to leave the Smart Villa the heartbreak motel of Gurgaon.

The client presentations went off like a dream. In fact the board applauded after I finished. I could barely hear it though as I was deaf from the air cabin pressure drops. Still it was a relief as I had flown in with a bad throat and blocked nose and was keeping my fingers about lasting the presentation. And then I had to spend the night at the sleazy dump where I was kept. Few things at work give me a bigger high than a good presentation.

We went for lunch at Ruby Tuesday after the first presentation. This is opposite TGIF. This time I had couple of colleagues with me.

We started with a broccoli and cheese soup which was quite nice. The broccoli was finely shredded so you didn't mind it and the cheese was nice and solid. I enjoyed this and it was good for my throat.

I had a half rack of pork spare ribs. As the menu promised the meat was extremely pliant and tender. 'Fork removable' was the term they used and they were right. The barbecue sauce was on the sweeter side. It reminded me of a teriyaki sauce. It came with a baked potato and sour cream which I didn't care much for.

My colleagues had batter fried shrimp and spaghetti bolougnaise. The dishes looked good and they said that they enjoyed it.

The food was pretty good. Prices (Rs 400 - 600, 10 -15 USD a dish) were similar to TGIF. But the service was less attentive and informed than TGIF and the place was even deader with just two tables occupied on Monday afternoon.

The good food at TGIF and Ruby Tuesday helped reduce the pain of spending the night, Smart Villa and wannabe Gurgaon.

TG for TGIF: down and out in Gurgaon

2008-12-21T10:37:00.000-08:00

Gurgaon is a satellite city of New Delhi.

It is located in the state of Haryana. It is a 20-30 minute drive from the airport thanks to the swanky new flyover. It has developed at very fast pace over the recent years with swanky malls, BPOs and MNCs shifting base here to steel and chrome office towers. Frankly, it looks a bit like Vegas to me. Amazing buildings interspersed in fairly desolate, dusty and arid patches of land.

I have made a number of work trips here recently where I fly in the morning and return by evening. This Sunday was different. I had two presentations to make on Monday. So I came in the previous evening as the winter fogs at Delhi have turned the schedules of flights topsy turvy.

So here I am on Sunday night at Gurgaon. 'Gaon' means village and Gurgaon seems like that. What adds to the feeling is the guesthouse that the client has put me in. Its neat and clean but is fairly sleazy. Red blankets, plastic pink roses, waiter knocks and walks before you can open the door, stained toilet seats, no hat water in the basin, you get the gist. No way comparable to the hotels one stays in at New Delhi. One of the barest places I have stayed in at Delhi while travelling on work. Apparently Gurgaon rates are fairly expensive. I should have probably stayed at my company's guest house in New Delhi. It is supposed to be good and New Delhi is at least a town.

This place is a freaking ghost town. There is no life on the roads. Everyone's either in the malls or at the offices. So you can imagine how depressing the can be on a Sunday night. To top it I left Bombay with a throat and nose infection. And now I am deaf after the flight thanks to the pressure drops. I hope the block opens before I present. i can barely hear myself speak!

And then I came to this maudlin guest house. I took one look at the tattered room service menu and said that's it... fog and cold be damned. I called for a cab and went over to TGIF at the Metropolitan Mall. I remembered going there with my boss earlier and enjoying it.

I had some piping hot mushroom soup for my throat. Then the waiter strongly recommended a roast turkey platter. This came with a glass of house wine. The Turkey piece was nice and springy. It tasted like chicken but had a nicer feel to it. I enjoyed every bite. It came with a nice, creamy, mildly tangy sauce, buttered vegetables, a fair bit of nice mash and a fresh garlic toast. The combo was finished off with a slab of Christmas cake, which was hard and a bit frozen, but was also sweet an comforting. Just about three to four tables were occupied which further bolsters my village theory. You wouldn't fine a prime restaurant so empty at Bombay on a Sunday night.

I rarely go out alone to restaurants when I am travelling in India. But room service was not really an option in the guest house I am staying at. At least the great dinner helped to restore my spirits and to help me tide over a wasted Sunday night in this glorified motel (Smart Villa) in this wannabe one hick town.

Follow the yellow brick road: Mumbai Pune Expressway

2008-12-06T02:07:00.000-08:00

I still remember the excitement which was there when the expressway opened between Mumbai and Pune. We had rarely seen a road like that in India. And it cut down the distance by almost two hours from what it used to be.

It still is about a 2 hr drive and another 1.5 hrs to get in and out of the cities.

I have travelled the route over the years and have seen the highway grow. As have the food courts!

I did the route yesterday and I saw that the food courts have really grown in number and variety. There is something for everyone. I was telling my colleagues that I felt like I was seeing a baby grow. And it felt good!

Here were some of the pleasant discoveries on the way to Pune from Mumbai:

- The Mc Donalds at Panvel, which is actually before the highway while coming from Bombay – now opens at 6 AM and serves breakfast. I remember stopping there earlier at 9 and 10 AM in the morning and being turned back as they opened at 11 AM. This time we had some very nice sausage muffins (the bread was light and slightly crisp compared to the burgers), excellent pancakes with coffee and maple syrup, Georgia Coffee (very nice), Minute Maid orange Juice. A colleague had has brown potatoes which looked tasty. Most dishes cost Rs 50 (1 USD). I wished they served this at Bombay too. They had done up the toilets too and they looked nicer than before

- The side of the lane facing Pune has a largish stop in the middle with a number of restaurants which sell local Maharashtrian fare (upma, bata vad, etc), South Indian Stuff, juices and sandwiches. This is one of the first courts but has grown with time. The average dish costs Rs 20 – 40 (50 – 60 cents) here
- Now there is a stop at the end of the highway towards Pune. This is the second stop after it ends and you have a Coffee Day there if you don’t like the local coffee in the earlier stops. Good to buck you before a meeting or before entering Pune.

There are quite a few stops on the way back to Mumbai from Pune

- There is a stop before Lonavla which has a Coffee Day, a US pizza shop and local stuff as well
- Then there is a largish stop after Lonavla which has at least 6-7 options: Ramakant's vada pao (they used to serve local fare such as vada pao in a van on the highway before the food court), a Café Coffee Day, some other local stores AND a 24 hr Mc Donalds

My excitement would sound strange to people from the West or even from countries like Thailand. But these are big improvements in India.

I was travelling with a couple of colleagues yesterday who shared my love for food. We kept talking about food through the journey. Which was good as our meeting at Pune seemed a bit pointless.

Traveler’s Notes:
- These stops have ample parking
- Now there are signs directing them to you on the road so you are warned well in avance in case you want to turn in
- There is quite a variety of options, most places are reasonably clean and hardly any have dishes which cost more than Rs 50 (or 1 USD)
- Most of these places have washrooms which are ‘fairly’ clean

- There are gas stations/ petrol pumps at all these stops

- Most also have shops where you can buy local favourites such as chiki (nuts in hard boiled jaggery), chocolate fudge, jelly sweets, jams and juices which you can take as gifts

The many wonders of India... our amazing politicians

2008-12-02T01:46:00.000-08:00

You would have probably heard of the Taj Mahal, the forts of Rajasthan, the beaches of Goa, the backwaters of Kerala, the tigers of the Sunderbans ... but have you heard of the world's most amazing collection of political leaders.

Well the latest terror attack at Mumbai threw up quite a few. Consider the facts and then think whether it is worth coming to India to see these unique specimens:

A geriatric, soft spoken, Prime Minister who waited till the nation was brought to its knees, till the killing spree was close to 24 hours, till a city's back was broken before coming on television, reading from a tele prompter and threatening to rap the knuckles of the bad boys who were out there killing people. Who is his role model? Chamberlain, Britain's prime minister who had tried to negotiate with Hitler!
A Home Minister of the country (in charge of internal security) who has taken multiple terror attacks in the last three months - Delhi, Jaipur, Guwahati, Bombay - calmly in his stride without blinking an eyelid. Just another day in office for him. A day too many for us though
A state Chief Minister who went to inspect the damages and destruction done to his state's capital with his son (who apparently acts in films) with a guy who used to make films
A state Home Minister who in reference to the carnage in his state said, 'such small incidents happen in large cities. The terrorists were planning to kill 5500 people'. Unquote. Well, yes it is not as important as shutting bars where girls danced to entertain patrons is it?
A leader of the national opposition who tried to score brownie points while terrorists were killing people in Bombay by saying that blasts when his government ruled killed fewer people than when the current government took over. This is the same gentleman who had overseen the destruction of the mosque which led to terrible religious riots in our country. The same gentleman, who as home minister, had handed over the man who is considered to be the master mind of the recent terror attacks to hijackers
A Chief Minister of another state, Kerala, who went to visit the house of an army major slained by the killers to get political mileage. Who was thrown out of the house by the indignant father of the slain major... himself a retired scientist of ISRO, India's equivalent of Nasa. A Chief Minister who hit back at the family of the martyred soldier by saying that even a dog (sic!) wouldn't have looked at house if it wasn't for their son. I was tempted to write that a dog did visit them because of their son. BUT I love dogs and I would never run down these noble creatures by equating them with politicians
An opposition party member who responds to citizen candle light protests by saying 'that a few women who wear lipstick and apply powder on their face are criticising politicians without knowing what they are speaking about'. Well let me assure him that we all know what our politicians are worth
Self appointed guardians of a city, who beat up people have come to work in the city from other parts of the country, who do not speak the language of these leaders and who refer to the city by a name which these leaders refer to. Not a squeak was heard from them as the citizens of the city they claim to own were being mowed down. As a friend of mine pointed out, they finally seemed to have paid heed to the gag order put on them by the courts. Or perhaps they have fled the city

The list goes on. These are the people we have elected. Or, worse still, the people we have not elected because we did not vote.

So go out and vote the next time. Many have asked who do we vote to? Even I ask the same question. But someone made a telling point on TV recently. Our politicians cater to vote banks. If go out and vote we will become a vote bank. Then they would have to listen to us.

And here's a sobering thought. The chances of the next prime minister of India being less than seventy five years old is much much less than the US getting a coloured president.

Mumbai 26 11...it is not business as usual

2008-11-30T12:19:00.000-08:00

Frankly I was quite exhausted and emotionally drained over the past few days. And I want to thank everyone who called, texted, e mailed, scribbled on walls, commented on blogs asking about us. Kainaz and I were home safe and no one close to us was caught in the tragedy that hit Mumbai. Unless you count the city of Bombay of course!

I was glued to the telly for a large part of the last few days watching the horrifying events unfold. I was dazed and in a state of shock. VT station, Leopolds, The Taj, the Oberoi, these have all been places which have made Bombay special to me. Places which have made me fall in love with the city. I have vivid memories of each of them.

I first landed at the Victoria Terminus for a summer project presentation in 1996. I fell in love with Bombay then and shifted in a year later. Kainaz and I would often walk past the VT Station on our courting days for a Bengali dinner at Hotel New Bengal. Even today I always feel happy when I see the Gothic beauty of the VT station when I head to South Bombay for work.

Leopold is where my summer project guide had treated me to a beer, where I had spent many evenings with friends when I had moved into Bombay, where I have had many Friday lunches of beef chilly and prawn fried rice and brownies with Kainaz, where we had dinner on her last day at FCB Ulka, the office where we met. Years later I felt good reading about it in the book, Shantaram.

The Taj Hotel was of course THE hotel we all aspired to. I remember each of my visits there… a lot of them were to the Sea Lounge, the old tea room by the sea. It is hard to think that the place where I was introduced to the ice cream boat and then shared it with Kainaz, where I took my mom for tea… an experience she still remembers, the place where as a junior executive, eight years back, I had shelled out Rs 1500 (30 USD today) to treat Kainaz to a chocolate buffet (a kind, elderly waiter took pity on us and allowed us to share a plate from the buffet though I had paid only for one person, but that’s Taj for you)…to think that this place, the Sea Lounge, was apparently the last refuge of the killers is painful.

The Oberoi is just opposite the Nirmal building at Nariman Point where Kainaz and I worked together when we first met. We often used to go to the cake shop there for pastries and ham and cheese sandwiches and even now I get a cake from there on her birthday. The Oberoi had a chemist where I would buy Kainaz’s favourite Lindt Chocolates, for the then pricely sum of 90 Rs (2 USD), as a peace offering if we had a tiff. I have bought her a red tee shirt from a shop called Scarlett over there which she still wears.

To see these places, which are such a big part of my life pillaged numbed me. I was truly dazed.

And then there was the human misery and pain. The deaths. The bloodshed. The injuries. The massacred families. To think that we could have been one of them is a chilling thought. These were people who had welcomed me to Bombay and made me feel at home here. Or they were people like me who had come from outside to Bombay, drawn like a firefly to the flame.

I have consciously used the word ‘Bombay’. I know there are political parties who believe that Bombay should be called Mumbai. Well, if they really care about the city, then their actions need to speak for that. And so far the silence has been deafening.

We have been let down by the most inept political leaders which we have abetted by voting for them, or worse still, by not voting. And I know that there are many of my peers who have followed the American elections by the minute but do not vote here. To start with, I haven’t voted ever since I shifted to Bombay.

Hats off to the policemen, army men, ordinary citizens, hotel staff, journalists, firemen who braved their lives to stand up to the killers. I hope that I too would someday be able to do something for this city.

And then there are the endless debates on the ‘spirit of Mumbai’. Three calamities back, this was good and much lauded. The flavour of the day now is to ridicule this term. The ‘spirit of Mumbai’ is the reality of life anywhere in the world. You need to eat to live, you need to earn to eat, you need to work to earn. People get back to work after each of the hourly blasts in Kabul and Kashmir, shops remain open after bombs exploded at Delhi, Jaipur and Guwahati, the fishermen are out after the cyclones in Bangladesh and the tsunami in Thailand and Tamil Nadu. That’s the truth of life. And that much more if you are a daily wage earner. So let’s face reality folks.

You want to know what Mumbai is like? It is like Sylvester Stallone in any Rocky movie. Battered in round after round. A broken nose. Blinded vision. Paralysed speech. The assault continues. Except in the movies, ‘it ain’t over till its over’. Rocky picks himself up for the umpteenth time and finally lands the sucker punch which fells Apollo Creed, Mr T, Ivan Drago and other challengers. Mumbai has the bomb blasts of 1993, the communal riots after that, the floods of 26/7, the commuter train blasts, the blasts at Ghatkopar and at the Gateway and now the carnage of 26 11.

And people are scared. Everyone stayed home on Thursday. I went to office for a short time on Friday. I asked my team mates to leave when there were rumours of more explosions. They said they were scared to leave. The cabbie who drove me to work kept muttering about how scared he was and how he didn’t want to get his work out. Fear has cut across. Even to the young… or to the poor, those who normally carry on in the face of danger.

And I have an eerie feeling that this is not the end of the fight. After all the politicians are still at their games. And there are many who act like it is business as usual. Well it is not business as usual!And this nighmare will not end till we realise that.

Life obviously doesn’t stop. We will get back to our spread sheets and power points and our rat races. Even I have gone about my daily routine over the past few days. But at least let’s care about the citiy. Let’s do something. And I don’t mean candle light vigils or being part of internet ‘communities against terror/ politicians, etc. Let’s not support the killers by turning against each other. And let's, for god's sake, vote. For all those who admire Obama but who have given up on our poilticians...let's not forget Obama's message of change.

PS: I am posting this on both my food and travel blogs, though this has nothing to do with either, so that I could reach out to as many people as possible

Placing the wrong bets - Genting

2008-11-16T23:41:00.000-08:00

What do you do at Genting if you don't gamble, if you are not into amusement parks, if you want to go to a hill station. You don't go!

We planned to cover a modern city and a sea resort by going to KL and Langkawi during our trip to Malaysia in 2006. We then added Genting to our itinerary as a day trip as we felt that we would get to go to a hill station too.

This is when our travel agents let us down. This was really sad as they had helped us chart out a lovely tour of Thailand last year. I would have expected them to know that artificial pleasures of malling, amusement parks, casinos are not our scene. They should have known that we are more into history, natural beauty and food. They should have told us not to go to Genting.

The beginning of the journey was fine as we stopped at chocolate 'factory', a tourist trap after our heart for a change. The cable car ride after the two hour drive was fun too.

The coin dropped when we reached Genting. We figured out that it is not a hill station. It is a complex of casino hotels and you are confined to these. We went into the casino to kill some time and came out soon. There was an amusement park which you had to pay to enter which didn't make sense as it was not our scene. We stepped out of the hotel and figured out that you could only go up to the parking lots. There were some pretty gardens there but that's it. And it was fairly chilly too.

So we went back in and spent time in the coffee shop till our time was over and our coach left for KL.

A precious eight hours wasted!

Traveler's notes:

Genting is about 3 hrs away from KL
Don't do an an overnight trip unless you are clear that you will be inside the hotel and will frequent the casino
The amusement park is supposed to be good and would attract those with kids

Majestic Ayuthaya: Thailand 2005

2008-11-15T07:32:00.000-08:00

I love Mumbai. Don’t get me wrong. It is the city where I feel free. The city where I have come of age. The city where I met my wife. The city where I grew in my career.

But it is a bit of an eyesore with its dusty, grimy, broken roads, its slums and its shanties, its ugly buildings, its tiny houses. I love the buzz here, I love living here, but there are times when I feel the need to get way from it all to rejuvenate my senses. That’s when I set out in search of endless horizons, beautiful places, marvels of nature and man, experiences which are very different from the smoggy, adrenalin charged life of Mumbai.

One such place which we had been to was Ayuthaya, the ancient capital of Thailand. I hadn’t heard of Ayuthaya before and we owe the visit entirely to Abhik, of Indian Wanderers, who had organized our trip to Thailand in October 2008. He was the one who insisted that we go there.

It was an amazing experience, quite different from the hustle and bustle of Bangkok, where he had based ourselves. And a universe away from mad, mad Mumbai.

We reached after about a three hour drive from Bangkok down very smooth roads.

The palace was awesome. The architecture was breath taking and was very well preserved. The sheer Oriental beauty of the palace, the manicured gardens, the temples, the streams and fountains and the opulance of the Royal Quarters were a feast for the eyes.

We then went on to see some ancient temples and Buddhist ruins which were burnt, pillaged and ruined by Burmese invasions some seven times and rebuilt each time by the Thai Kings. There was of course, no one, to guard the remains from modern tomb raiders. The image of the Buddhist statues which were beheaded by smugglers was quite poignant. The two huge statues of Buddha were as awe inspiring as Abhik had promised.

Our royal experience didn’t end with the sightseeing! We returned to Bangkok in a posh river cruise. The food was very good. Three years down the line I still remember the lovely Tom Yum soup and Thai curries and wide dessert spread. It was nice to get a glimpse of the Thai river houses on the way back. Great food, cool river breeze, lovely views, life couldn't get better than this!

Traveler’s Notes:
- This is a must for the architectural beauty, history and the luxurious cruise ride back
- It is a day trip from Bangkok where you start at 8 AM and return to your hotel at 6 PM

- The trip involves quite a bit of walking in the sun so wear comfortable shoes and carry a cap. Our tour group had umbrellas for us to use in the sun

- You can't wear shorts or sleeveless tees to the Royal Palace. Sarongs are available for women in case they aren't suitably dressed

The hysterical Cemberlitas Hamam

2008-11-12T21:04:00.000-08:00

I didn’t know much about Turkey till I went there. The Turkish Hamams were an exception. In retrospect I had ‘heard’ about them but didn’t ‘know’ about them.

I had visions of an exotic, relaxing, unwinding experience. What I experienced was jarring, unsettling and disturbing. Lonely Planet did say that one must experience a hamam though they warned that many today were tourist traps.

We had gone to the Cemberlatis Hamam near the Blue Mosque at Istanbul. This was recommended by our local travel agent and Lonely Planet. Its call to fame was that it was designed by Sinan, the architect of the Blue Mosque, and was around four hundred years old.

I went in for the ‘luxury package’ hamam, soap scrub and oil massage which was 80 liras or 40 euros per person. Kainaz did suggest going for the basic package in case we didn’t like it. She was right. We should have done that.

You expect a certain amount of finesse, luxury and hospitality when you are paying 40 euros or Rs 2400. Especially in Turkey where one got used to experiencing the same.

Well, here’s what happened. I entered the large . I was directed to a changing room where I was given a towel and two tokens. I wrapped the towel around me and walked tentatively back into the lobby. Someone then directed me to another room. Here I saw there was a round marble platform with a few vessels lying there. A few people were lying on th platform. One or two were getting massaged. And there were a few like me who were walking around with disturbed looks. By then I knew I was not getting my moneys both. The surroundings were damp and looked 400 years old. I could see soot in the grills when I looked up at the dome like ceiling. I did not feel good or relaxed. A far cry from, say, the Thai massage parlours.

Then a man with a towel around his waist appeared and asked me though gestures to lie down on the platform and to rest my head on an aluminium cup. He then gave me a cursory, painful rub over, which passed off for a massage. He nexttook a loofa, worked up a soap lather on me, took me to a tap and asked me to clean up. He then looked at me, smiled, winked and said “massage good? Service! Service!”. This was the only time in Turkey that someone openly asked us for tips.

He then pushed me into another room which turned out to be the oil massage room. This was the only redeeming feature of the experience and contributed to 50% of the cost. The massage was good but I was too tense to enjoy it. In fact he even asked me to relax a couple of times. He was the only one who spoke English. Though I seriously doubt whether it lasted 30 minutes. The room was clean but didn’t really give you a good feeling.

Next stop was the shower cubicle where I went and had a shower and then came out in a wet towel wondering what to do next. I stepped out into the lobby when one man took me back in, put towels around my head, torso and waist and sent me to the changing room.

I then waited for Kainaz. She came out from the women’s section a few minutes later and looked shell shocked. She hated it as much and more. She said the women’s section was even worse. It had no shower cubicle, no soap, no changing rooms, no one to wrap you in towels at the end. She too said that the oil massage was the only redeeming feature but was nothing unique. Her ‘soap massage’ in the hamam was quite surreal though. I was recently reading a new Bond book set in the seventies which speaks of a hamam in Iran with scantily clad women doing the massages. Seems it was pretty much the same in the women’s section. Except the women were of the same seventies vintage…so you had grandmas in granny panties. 'Bizarre' was how Kainaz described it.

To add insult to injury Kainaz picked the tab AND lost her fairly expensive glares there.

The hamam left us dazed and confused. Well not really – we are pretty clear that we will never recommend it to anyone.

Notes

Avoid this
If you want to feel relaxed take the Bosporus cruise or have an apple tea in a local cafe
The prices change and the next day what we paid seventy for was 80 liras

Hips don't lie: Turkish belly dance

2008-11-10T00:38:00.000-08:00

We wanted to do something special for our anniversary dinner. Arvind and Dilber of Faraway Travels, our travel agents in India, suggested that we have dinner at the Keravan Serai. Dilber also said they have Turkey’s highest paid belly dancer there. Belly dancer?! You need to have a fairly sporting wife to go there for your anniversary.

Well we did go there on the 22nd of October, our anniversary, and had a fairly majestic experience straight out of an Ottoman sultan’s court.

The place was packed, largely with tour groups from across the world. In fact, we saw quite a few Indians for the first time in our holiday at Turkey. Thomas Cook, SOTC, Kuoni, all the usual suspects were there.

While most were sitting on common tables our travel agent had got Kainaz and me a cosy table for two where he had quite a romantic candle light dinner.

The belly dancers were quite awesome. Their moves defied the laws of gravity, biology and physics. They were quite artistic and heady. They were anything but raunchy. In fact rhythmic and exotic are words I would use. And I must say that I am not writing this to be politically correct or because, more importantly, Kainaz would be reading this. They were genuinely graceful and I really felt like I was sitting in an Ottoman court and enjoying it. Just to highlight the point it would be a polar opposite, pun intended, to pole dances or Bollywood item numbers. Quite poetic. All right, all right most of the dancers were quite pleasing on the eye too :) The ‘highest paid’ belly dancer of Turkey (in the picture below) did live up to her star billing.

It was amusing to see some of our fellow Indians watch the dancers with their mouth open. Their wives steadfastly looked down at their plates. Quite different from Bharat Natyam and Kathakali.

The belly dances were interspersed with Turkish folk shows like Caucasian dances, gypsy sword throwers and so on. They were nice though I am sure the audience’s heart wasn’t in this.

The second half of the show saw one of the most talented performers that we had ever seen. I think Arvind had told us about him. This person was a linguist, singer, dancer, comedian rolled in one…a vaudeville artist who would probably give the best in Broadway or West End a run for their money. He would ask people which country they had come from and speak to them and sing in their native language. Indian (awara hoon), Mexican, Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Australian, American, British, Brazilian, Persian, Russian …nothing stumped him. He would respond instantly. He had a good voice too and really got the audience involved.

I am being very honest here when I say that he left a greater impression on us than the belly dancers!

The food? We had quite a nice fare. A bottle of red wine which Kainaz tried out too though she is not much of a wine drinker. A prawn cocktail like fish dish topped with caviar, mint flavoured paneer samosas (!), roast lamb with mashed potato, lovely breads and fruit salad.

A most memorable anniversary dinner.

Some of the other anniversary dinners over the years which I remember include the basement English Pub at Glennaries Darjeeling (we later got locked out of our hotel as were late and froze outside), Sunderban Tiger Camp, Sadri’s Malaysian fish at Langkawi (and our sad faces when we saw the price) and the continental place at Pattaya where we had some lovely risotto and pasta.

Traveller’s notes:

- There are other shows in Istanbul. One is called Sultana, 1001 nights. I’d strongly recommend Keravan Serai as it is quite well rounded
- The listed cost is 70 euros per head if you land up by yourself. Our travel agent got it at 40 euros per head. This includes a drop from the hotel, food and alcohol
- Menu is fixed though differs from group to group. I saw that those in the Indian tour groups had salads, mezze, shaslik. They also have vegetarian options
- Alcohol is sufficient, though not unlimited. My definition of sufficient is two glasses per person
Duration: You are picked at 8PM and dropped back at 11PM. Show is for around 2 hrs
- This is close to Taksim

Eat in peace at Istanbul

2008-11-07T23:30:00.000-08:00

Indians love to travel. Indian tourists form a sizeable chunk of tourists worldwide these days. One area where many face a problem though is when it comes to food. Some typical problems are:

- Where to get vegetarian food?
- How does one avoid meats like beef or pork which are taboos for Many Hindus and Muslims?
- How does one get used to sharp and alien tastes, food textures, smells?

The preferred antidote to this are packaged tours. The deal is that you get Indian meals every day cooked by Indian chefs who go along with the group. Doesn’t make sense to people like me who love to try out new dishes. I do understand that religious taboos could be a constraint for some who might be open to trying out new cuisines. Well, at least Turkey or Istanbul won’t be a problem for them.

The concept of ‘vegetarianism’ is quite understood there. The moment the heard that we were Indian or Hindistani they would offer us vegetarian options. And here I am speaking of the basic delis and not the up market restaurants. I remember once someone was asking a cart lady at the Sum Lum night market in Bangkok whether a dish was vegetarian and all she got in reply was ‘no pork’. That is unlikely to happen in Istanbul.

You also get a range of vegetarian dishes made with chick peas, kidney beans, beans and of course the ubiquitous green salads. I do not understand vegetarians and share Anthony Bourdain’s impatience with them. Still, I thought I must make this point for those who would like to travel by themselves but join the packaged tour circus of food fears.

The restaurant folks will even tell you what meat has been used. Chicken is obvious. But there are people who don’t eat beef for example. In Istanbul they will tell you whether it is mutton or beef or the more rare pork.

I remember that we had once ordered ‘kokerece (?)’ which was a dish made with intestines. This was in a restaurant in upscale Cisek Padesi. The waiter checked with us at least thrice before finally asking whether we had sany idea what we were ordering. We had to spend some time assuring him that we know and like our organs. Thank God that we convinced him as this chilly powder based, buttery, dish was heavenly and quite unique from most of the fare there.

For breakfast you won’t get the Indian dosas, idlis and parathas which you get in the Far East. But you do get loads of bread, an unbelievable array of cheese which I stuffed myself with every morning, salads, cereals, fruits, the works and of course cold cuts and eggs.

A lot of the dishes have fried onion, tomato, red chillies, Indian spices and the taste is different without being miles apart from (North) Indian food. You also get local breads which are similar to tandoori rotis, naans, parathas (called pide there) and rumali rotis. So you won’t miss home food as much as if you were depending on Chinese noodle soups, Thai coconut milk and fish oil based curries, bland fish and chips or Italian cheese and tomato dumps.

So drop your inhibitions and explore Istanbul. You won’t regret it.

if nothing else you have the American saviours there in most tourist spots. I am not sepaking of Rambo or Obama but of the fast food joints. Mc Donalds (apprently more popular than Mc Cain), Burger King, Starbucks, KFC... name it and its there.

You can read more on restaurants in turkey in my food blog, finely chopped.

Notes;

1. The beauty at the top of the post is a lovely mutton kaba dish that I had the day we landed

2. The average price for a dinner for two in a street deli costs about 15 Turkish Lira or 8-10 euros

3. Most meals are served with complimentary bread, rice. So unlike in India you don't have to order rice or bread separately with the main dish

4. Try the local butter milk which is called Ayran very similar to lassi

5. Curd is quite popular in Turkey and you can get pachaged curds to go with your meals

6. Cheese is called 'peynir' but is rarely like the Indian 'paneer'

7. Turkey is big in fried, roasted chillies. These are served with kebabs but you can ask for it separately too. They are not very hot though

The fierce Turks

2008-10-31T06:40:00.000-07:00

One of the things that made Turkey special, without doubt, was the fact that they were some of the friendliest and warmest people that I have ever met.

They were extremely helpful whenever we asked them anything. In case a person didn't know English or couldn't answer our query then he or she would go and call someone else who could. They would really go out of the way to be helpful. There were times when people came and stopped us and pointed out that one of our bags were open. Then there were a couple of times when there were people who came and asked us whether we were lost and needed help in navigating the local transport.

Especially memorable was the elderly gentleman who saw us at the Taksim Metro ticket counter, thought we were lost, and insisted on guiding us on how to reach our destination, Topkapi Palace. He was very earnest so I couldn't break it him that we knew the drill by then. So we just played along. He had a very kind looking face and got off abruptly before we could thank him. I tried to click him from inside the train for memory. Not that I will ever forget him.

Then there was an old lady near our second hotel who was selling lace handkerchiefs. Kainaz felt she reminded her off of Mamma and took a photograph with her. She later bought a handkerchief and the old granny kept beaming and kept repeating 'merci, ciao, terrekezen(thank you in Turkish).

They were quite sporting too. There was a 'Turkish ice cream seller' at Goreme park in Cappadocia. He saw me taking a picture and insisted on doing a flourish with the ice cream so that we could get a good picture.

Have you ever had a hotel owner literally feeding you? Well, there was this kindly, avuncular, gent who insisted on feeding ravioli with a spoon to Kainaz in his restaurant. He also told her to mix chilly flakes and salata (a local salad spice) in the ravioli and was clearly keen to ensure that she enjoyed her meal in his restaurant... or should I say house. The board behind had letters of appreciation from people all over the world. I was not surprised to see so many and added my own too.

And of course there was this young man at Starbucks who did not understand my order of cikolata (chocolate) frappuccino at first. When he realised this, he was so upset about it that he came and gave me a free one. I struck gold through our little 'lost in translation' tableux as cicolata frappuccino was the most heavenly drink that I had ever had.

There were so many more. The earnest poster seller in windy Taksim Square, the enterprising maitre d at the Museam hotel, the cheerful young man from our travel agency at Istanbul, the friendly shop keepers in the spice market...I love Turkey!!!

From the caves of Cappadocia

2008-10-31T00:56:00.000-07:00

One problem in the run up to the Turkey trip was the pronouncing the name of the places! I kept tripping over names such as Galipoli, Ephesus, Pergemum, Kusadasi, Anatolia, Cappadocia, Pammukale, Izmir as I would read out from the Lonely Planet Book to Kainaz every night while planning the trip. It didn’t help that most of us in India didn’t know much about Turkey. At least I didn’t

We zeroed down to Istanbul, Cappadocia and Ephesus/ Izmir before the trip. This was largely thanks to our travel agent, Dilber. She suggested that we skip Anatolia given it’s a sea side resort and given that we were more into history. We then wanted to choose between Izmir and Cappadocia as the inbound flight rates were messing up our budgets. That is when she suggested go ahead with Cappadocia as she knew people who had really liked it. She also suggested the staying in a Cave hotel. We then found out about, and fell in love with, The Museum Hotel.

There was one problem. The cost actually went up compared to our original three city plan. I sat and weighed bankruptcy on one hand and an apparently surreal holiday on the other. Kainaz stepped in and said that she would pay for the Cappadocia part of the trip as an anniversary gift to me.

We moved on to Cappadocia after 3 days at Istanbul. We landed at the one horse airport of (with stinking loos) Kayseri. I got the first glimpse of the mountains as we drove down and my face fell open in wonder. And that’s how it remained for the three days that we were there.

Our hotel, Museum Hotel, was straight out of Discovery Travel and Living’s amazing hotels. Our room was fashioned out of a cave, we had our own Jacuzzi (!), a window which looked onto the most amazing rock formations and gourmet.

We had dinners where the waiters and maitre d’s were in tuxedos and every dinner was a candle light one with the most tempting looking, artistically styled, gourmet dishes.

Our room was called the ‘dovecote’ or ‘Guvencilik’ after the pigeon coves which were found in the cave and had been preserved while fashioning the room. Each room had its own name and theme. The Museum hotel was very tastefully done and got its name from the various artifacts which the owner had collected and displayed.

The curios included a gentleman, called Isa, who manned the front desk. He didn’t seem to have any answer to any of our questions on how to operate the Jacuzzi or whether the local hamam was any good. Each question would be met by a polite, perplexed look. Very different from the lively and enterprising restaurant staff there.

All in all, the Museum Hotel, was indeed a special anniversary gift for me.

As was Cappadocia! The terrain which was sculpted by volcanoes centuries back and had amazing rock formations was breath taking. The mountain rocks were shaped into mushrooms, camels, parent and child formations, couples dancing, ‘fairy chimneys’ and whatever else your imagination fancied. It out of a lotus eater’s fantasy. As we walked through the multi coloured valley in the cool, crisp mountain air, I thought ‘could we really be here?’, ‘could we be here in this magical land? Can someone pinch me and tell me that it’s not a dream? This was so removed from anything we had seen in real life. A 70 mm experience if there was one.

It was not just the natural beauty which was breath taking. There were the marvels of early man. There were churches from the time of the apostles, built two thousand years back, fashioned out of caves, decorated with frescos made out of pigeon droppings and grape juice. There were the pigeon valleys where alcoves were fashioned by people centuries back to attract pigeons to gather the precious droppings. I always feel a shiver up my spine when I am by ancient ruins as I try to imagine life as it was then. And here the shivers were on an an overdrive. The achievements of people so many centuries were awe inspiring and humbling.

The cave churches and houses were fascinating. However, the underground city of the pre Christian, Hitites was something else. The Hitites, and later the early Christians, used to burrow in into this underworld cities when their enemies would attack. They would surface out three to five months later.

You had to bend double through short passages and then come to a floor where there were various remains of ancient flour mills, grape crushing vessels, grain storage ares and so on.

Three to five minutes was all I lasted! The memory of my recent MRI was still raw and I felt claustrophobic and requested our guide to take us out. Kainaz went in, though like a rabbit, through the short passages and into the 4 levels. The group we were sight seeing with adopted her and took it upon them to look after her after I scooted out. She maintains that she was not ruffled at all. I am quite sure that she enjoyed being babied though. She said that it was an amazing experience inside.

What can I say? I like the blue sky. I met other people who came out after one or two levels and we formed a mini support group of our own while waiting for the others to come out! It didn’t help that our hotel room was in a cave. I must admit that I was a bit uneasy at night

Kainaz and I are not fond of packaged tours. Visions of a fixed itinerary, guides with whistles, Indian food, pesky fellow travelers with whom you have to make polite conversation have kept us away from packaged tours. We do take ‘seat in coach’ sight seeing options while travelling and we had our best experience so far at Cappadocia.

We had the same earnest guide, Dida, for both days. Her calling in life seemed to be to save creatures in distress. She once stopped our bus to move a turtle that had strayed onto the road to safety. And of course she stopped her tour in the middle of the underground city to take my out when I had a panic attack.

Our driver was a friendly man too unlike the grouchy, old rougue who picked us up for the first two Istanbul tours. .

We had this lovely mix of fellow travelers in our Cappadocia sight seeing tour. There four, ever smiling, elderly, Australians who were as energetic as mountain goats despite having reached after a grueling trip of Egypt. We had two honeymooning couples. One from Japan. Another was a Pakistani couple settled in the US. The Japanese lady was a hair dresser and I got a professional opinion from her on Kainaz’s Toni and Guy perm. The Pakistani couple wanted some Istanbul restaurant tips. I launched into a discourse on the street food there. Kainaz berated me saying that we would probably want something posh on their honeymoon. How was I to know? I was on my seventh wedding anniversary after all.

Then there were these two Mexican guys from the US. One of them would keep making the other take photographs of him in all sorts of poses. He would then inspect the photos and ask for retakes if they didn’t meet his approval.

A lone Japanese gentleman joined the group on the second day. For some reason Kainaz felt sorry for him and decided to take him under her wings. Whenever we got off at a place our mother hen would ask him if he wanted a photograph of himself on his camera. She would then take the camera from him and give it to me to click him. He would politely agree. Later in the day when this happened to the n’th time he sidled up to me and explained that he had left his battery charger in Japan and wondered whether his camera would last the rest of the trip. That’s when the coin dropped. I realized that in his polite, Japanese, way he was telling me, “ask this crazy lady to leave me and my camera alone!”

The two days that we spent with this group was good fun as we got to know each other and became friends. In between we even got entertained by Kainaz who was asked to demonstrate her pottery skills in a ceramic shop.

(PS The gentleman with the grey specs is the one who was trying to save his camera from Kainaz)

Apart from the ceramic shop, we also went to a a carpet shop and an onyx factory. Unfortunately such tourist traps eat into sight seeing trips the world over. We did buy a lovely black Onyx urn for Mamma from there.

I guess everything fell into place with this group. As people we got along well. Everyone was friendly and cheerful without being too prying. We were together for two days and then went our own ways. Within the two days we headed to our own hotels in the evenings and get enough time by ourselves. And we were all doing what we wanted. Kainaz and I were on a lazy croc, two city holiday. There were some who were bent on taking on as many new sights and discoveries and possible. And of course the honeymooners who were getting to know each other while exploring new places.

We definitely had the most amazing experience at Cappadocia. It primed us up for our second shot at Istanbul. I must admit that we were quite happy to get back to a big city after three days in the wilderness.

At the risk of a horrible pun…Cappadocia rocks!

Though whenever I think of Cappadocia I won't forget the yelps of help of 'Cutlet', the tiny brown coloured stray puppy who had broken its foot. I wish I could have done something for it.

Traveler notes:
- Our local travel agent in Turkey did the Cappadocia part through a company called ‘Agra Tours’. They were quite good and efficient
- Even if you like travelling alone, you would need a sightseeing tour to see places at Cappadocia as it is a large province and not a town. There were some who were driving by themselves though. I guess you would need time for that
- We skipped the balloon rides which are a speciality there. We gave it a miss as it was 170 (!) euros per person for an hour AND you had to get up at four (!) in the morning. Those who went up though raved about it. You go up in a balloon and fly over the Cappadocian terrain for an hour. At the end you get a certificate and a champagne toast

- Cappadocia involves a lot of walking so carry comfortable shoes
- If you stay at the Museum Hotel, pay more for the deluxe rooms as the regular ones are not pure cave rooms.
- While the Museum Hotel is on an expensive side, you must stay in a cave hotel if you go to Cappadocia. The cave hotel theme is quite popular now and a net search will throw up some cheaper options too. Check whether the room has a window though as it could get a bit claustrophobic otherwise

A Tale of two cities: Istanbul and Kolkata

2008-10-31T00:47:00.000-07:00

I must confess I did not know much about Turkey or Istanbul before I went there.

A colleague suggested that I take Orhan Pamuk’s ‘Istanbul - Memories and the city’ just before I left.

I hadn’t heard of Orhan Pamuk before. He is a Turkish writer who won the Nobel Prize in literature recently. I bought the book from Crossword and started reading it at the airport.

Frankly I couldn’t relate to what he had written as I began to explore Istanbul. He had written about the filth, sense of melancholy (huzun), poverty, ruined buildings, drab clothes and pained faces.

The Istanbul that I saw (Taksim and Sultanhmet) were the same areas that he had grown up in and written about. What I saw was a city full of vibrant people, walking purposefully, often dressed like super models. I saw elegant, restored buildings. We saw well preserved and well lit up monuments. People who were bright and friendly, hardly depressed or repressed. Roads were clean and yet had a character unlike antiseptic Singapore.

Towards the end of the book Pamuk reveals his first heart break. That made sense. That could have coloured his mind and his world view. We often remember cities through our memories.

Pamuk’s argument was that the Turk’s more or less lorded over the world under the Ottomans. They did not take well to their fall from power after the Ottoman empire collapsed and the Republic was set up. He also wrote about how, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, led a Westernisation drive for them to move away from the past.

Istanbul must have seen some big changes in recent years as it was quite different from the Istanbul of the fifties to the seventies that Pamuk writes about. Perhaps the Euro Cup which they hosted helped. The government must have led this drive. One could sense the government everywhere in forms of uniformed policemen with machine guns, police vans patrolling the roads or even the mechanized road cleaners.

This set me thinking about my home city of Kolkata. Kolkata was called Calcutta and was the capital of India in the first part of the British rule. Most of the early thinkers, politicians, businessmen, cinema celebrities, writers, poets, most of India's Nobel prize winners, the best academic institutions et al were from here.

Then the capital shifted to Delhi in the beginiing of the twentieth century. Later Kolkata was swamped with refugees from Bangladesh twice (1947, 1970) – during the partition and during Bangladesh’s independence movement. The communists won the local elections and have ruled the state for more than thirty years now. The city buckled under the pressure and just caved in. Despair, ruins, poverty, meleancholy were the order of the day. Since then the city seemed to live more on its past glory and seemed to turn its face away from its ugly present. People would speak longingly of the British. The British prime minister, John Major’s visit in the nineties was seen as its route to deliverance. That didn’t happen of course and other Indian cities such as Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore left Calcutta behind in terms of liveliness and growth.

Then, like Ataturk propounded in his Westernisation drive, Kolkata too seemed to turn its back on its past in a desperate attempt to ape cities like Mumbai. That was roughly when I left the city (1998).

I see quite a resurgence when I go home to Kolkata these days – splendid flyovers, spurt of Bengali restaurants with Bengali food no longer being considered uncool, new housing properties, an acceptance of Bengali culture with clothes like kurtas in traditional designs, Bengali rock bands and so on getting popular.

Yet the differences are not as stark as what I saw in Istanbul now verus what Pamuk had written about it. I wonder what that sort of transformation would take… enlightened citizens? Administrative will? Or is it something more dramatic ?!

A tale of two cities: New and old Istanbul

2008-10-28T13:48:00.000-07:00

The two main areas of Istanbul, Sutanahmet and Taksim, best reflect the multiple identities of Istanbul. They bring alive its unique mix of the old and the new.

We stayed in two hotels in the Taksim area. Taksim square and the road which emanates from it, Istiklal Cadesi, ends in the Beyoglu area. Our first hotel, the stately Marmara Istanbul, was bang on Taksim Square. The second one, the hip Marmara Pera, was at the Beyoglu end.

One could call this the ‘new’ face of Istanbul. Istiklal is a sort of a walking street which is lined with old buildings which one associate with 19th and early 20th century Europe. These buildings had been converted into fancy shops (clothes, books, antiques, shoes) which housed most international brands.

Kainaz took advantage of the cold to make me buy her some nice European looking stuff such as a woolen cap and a light blue trench coat. The styles were different from what you get here. Apparently she had to dress up for coffee! The irony is that I had bought the most ridiculously expensive jacket in the history of jackets from Ed Hardy as an anniversary gift but the annicersary (22nd October) was right at the end of the trip. I couldn't have her becoming an ice maiden before that could I after 7 years of sticking together through years of counting the change.

Istikal Padesi had a range of eateries - Mac Donalds, Starbucks, Burger King, etc and local kebab, kofte, piaz, delis, doner (Turkish shwarma) & oil dreched burger stalls and fancy restaurants including those in Cisek Pasaji, a very elegantly restored flower market.

There were some grand churches and an ambling tram reminiscient of late 19th century Europe.

The street was crowded late into the night with hip, smartly dressed young Istanbullus walking purposefully. It is a young and lively place and fitted into our image of Western Europe. A number of cities in the world have these ‘be there or be square’ places. The ones which come to mind are Colaba in Mumbai, Park Street in Calcutta, Sukhomvit in Bangkok and Thamel in Kathmandu and, very losely, Baga at Goa.

The Taksim area was home to Kainaz and me for 6 days and was clearly our preferred part of the city. I loved the wonderful mix of modernity in a classical shell

Orhan Pamuk, in his book, Istanbul, refers to Taksim and Beyoglu as places where the Greek, Jew and Christian minorities of Istanbul used to live. This probably explains the West European feel to the area. He also says that the houses here were ransacked during riots in the 1950s. My guess is that the government must have restored this area since then. If they have, then it is a wonderful example, which I wish could be done in India. They look very different from the filth, poverty and ruins which Pamuk writes about. The change, obviously, is dramatic since then.

The other key area is the old city or the Sultanahmet area. In fact this seemed to be the preferred base of most tourists that we met. It had most of the ‘must sees’ of Istanbul within walking distance.

You first come across the Haghia (pronounced Aia) Sophia which was built by King Justinian. It was apparently the principle Church of Christianity when Constantinople was the centre of the Christian world. This was later converted into a mosque when the Ottomans took over and you see Arabic inscriptions inside the church. Haghia Sophia was converted into a Museum by Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder of the Turkish Republic in the middle of the twentieth century. I felt that this was a nice solution to the religious impasse between the Christians who built the Church and the Muslim majority who occupied it over the centuries.

I wonder if anyone in India would come up with such an enlightened solution for the Babri Masijid Ram Janmabhoomi complex. This could turn this area of religious dispute into a monument for the world to admire.

Close to the Haghia Sophia is the Topkapi Palace. This is where the Ottoman Sultans used to live and rule the world. It is a huge complex built over 4 courts (areas). Kainaz had decided that we should explore the palace ourselves with the help of the Lonely Planet which her colleague Shushobhan had lent us to discover Turkey with. We decided on this was after we felt that we were quite rushed by the tour guides in most of the other places and could not really take in the atmosphere. I was a bit sceptical about the absence of guide but must admit that she made the right decision.

Well we ended up spending a full day here walking from court to court, awestruck by the Sultan’s reception room, the library, the huge, huge Royal kitchen, the treasury which had a throne which Nadir Shah had taken from India and the 86 carat Spoonmaker’s diamond which nearly blinded one with its brilliance.

We then bought another ticket to go to the harem and spent an hour there lost in the inner world of the sultan. We looked at the empty rooms and windows and wondered about what must have happened behind its closed walls. I am sure they must have a lot of interesting stories of the sultans and his favourite women. I wonder who ruled whom. But most have taken some skill to manage them.

In between all this we had a lovely lunch at the very posh, hundred year old, Konyali restaurant (estd 1907) in the Topkapi palace complex. It was a classy, fine dining experience which we enjoyed by the Bosporus. Loved the lamb goulash. We shared a main dish with fries, tea and ayran (butter milk). It was too expensive to order 2 dishes or wine! But that's what happens if you gate crash into the Sultan's party.

If we had gone in a guided tour then they would have crunched all of this into an hour. Well, as they say, the wife is always right.

The Blue Mosque, which was built by the Ottoman Sultans to over shadow the Haghia Sultan, is synonymous with Istanbul. This is a marvel in medieval architecture with its imposing dome and delicate mosaic work. Inside the mosque there was a lovely, red carpet which was heavenly to walk on. The mosque was meant to inspire awe... and it did!

In between the Blue Mosque and the Haghia Sophia you come across what the tourist books describe as the ‘Hippodrome’ where chariot races used to happen. I was looking forward to seeing a Coliseum like structure out of the Gladiator or Asterix comics. Actually it is a regular metalled road with an ancient column. A bit disappointing to say the least.

What’s not disappointing is the 500 year old underground cistern, the Yerebetan Sarnici or the Basilico Cistern. This was restored in the 1990s. This is not a part of standard tours. Kainaz chanced upon it while reading the Lonely Planet in a café in the Grand Bazaar. We were quite awestruck when we went there. It was an experience straight out of Indiana Jones. You go down a regular looking staircase and come onto a huge hall like area which is the water reservoir. There are a line of pillars with a couple of them having two heads of Medusa. The atmosphere is very different. It is wet and cool with water dripping from the ceiling. The tasteful, soft lighting adds to the magic in the air. You can even see fish swimming in the water as you make your way through the walkways. There was a tiny café there where we stopped to have a cup of coffee. This reservoir used to supply water to Istanbul centuries back.

Soon after the Blue Mosque and the Yerebetan Sarnic you come to another 500 year old marvel, the Grand Bazar. This was a bazaar set up by the Sultans for people to trade. It is divided into various sections such as those for carpets, porcielen, antiques, etc. This is quite an interesting Bazar to look at with its ornate columns and ceilings. It gives you a feeling of the past far away from the glass and chrome malls today. Haggling is common here. We were called into a carpet shop, where we sipped some apple tea, saw many carpets and then firmly said no and left. It is fairly genteel and well organized. You don’t feel pressured unlike what people claim about the market in Cairo. One good place to eat here is the Pedeliza restaurant which we discovered thanks to the Lonely Planet book.

What to buy? Here’s a commonly known secret. Take in the atmosphere in the Grand Bazar and then head to what I call the ‘good bazar’ for shopping. This is the Spice Market or the Egyptian market which is a couple of tram stations away from Sultanahmet. It is less grand, has fewer shops, but has the same stuff as the Grand Bazar at half the price and is about 400 years old. The tram station for this is Eminonu. The Bosporus cruise starts from here too so you can always check it after the cruise. We did most of our souvenir shopping – tee shirts, apple teas, spices, dry fruits, evil eye trinkets – from here. The salesman are quite friendly, they push their stuff but aren't overbearing. We might a friendly young man called Jeman whom we bought most of our stuff from.

Close to the Grand Bazar is the Cimerlati Hamam allegedly designed by Sinan, the architect who designed the Blue mosque. More on that later but it is definitely avoidable unless you are a masochist. I am still too shaken by it to write about our harrowing experience there. Both Kainaz and I needed some stiff vodkas to recover from it that night.

As you see, most of the tourist spots – Haghia Sophia, Blue Mosque, Yerebatan Sarnici, Topkapi Palace, Grand Bazar - are within walking distance of each other at Sultanhamet which is also known as the ‘old city’. There are a number of restaurants and hotels there. As I said earlier, most people we met were staying there.

However, the ‘new city’, the Taksim area seems more like a modern city. What I would recommend is to stay at Taksim. Go over to Sultanahmet to take in the sights and then come back and walk the streets of Istiklal and Beyoglu from Taksim in the evening.

So here you have a quick overview of Istanbul. It is almost as if it is a tale of two cities – the modern, buzzing, European Taksim and the Ottoman palaces and Occidental, medieval, majesty of Sultanahmet. Why choose between the two? After all you can get the best of both the worlds at Istanbul.

Notes :
1. The two, Taksim and Sultanahmet, are fairly well connected by public transport. You go by an underground metro from Taksim to the next stop, Kabbatas. Here you buy another ticket or Jeton and take the tram to Sultanahmet Station. The same works while returning. The locals are very helpful and they help you out if you think you are lost. That’s how we came upon this route. Each way takes half an hour and a round trip costs 5.6 Liras or 3 Euros or about Rs 180 per person. A taxi would take much more. The trains and trams are crowded by are a cake walk for anyone who has travelled on Indian trains or buses.

2. The only toursity place which is slightly away from Sultanahmet is the Dolmabahace place. This is the ‘modern’ palace where the Sultans lived post the 18th century. You can only go here with a tour group which, in a hurried 45 minute round ,shows you the opulence of the palace including the world’s largest chandelier. Turkish Nobel Prize winner, Orhan Pamuk, in his book ‘Istanbul’ says that he used to sneak kisses with his first love and muse. here. I wonder whether that’s why years later you now need to go with an organised group and can’t walk around by yourself.

3. Some indicative prices of things mentioned:
- Dolmabahace tour/ Blues Mosque + Haghia Sofia/ Topkapi Palace – each half day tour costs about 52 USD per person
- Entrance to Yerabatan Sarnici is about 20 Turkish Lira or 10 Euros per person
- Entrance to Topkapi Palace (should be done without a tour) is about 20 Lira/ 10 Euro pp and the entrance to the Harem is another 15 Lira/ 8 Euros pp
- Hamam (hamam+ soap+ oil massage) – 80 Liras/ 40 Euros pp down the drain. This price fluctuates and was higher the next day. This is also the only place in Turkey where tips are openly solicited
- Turkey tee shirt – 20 Lira/ 10 euro in Grand bazaar. 10 Lira/ 5 Euro in the Spice market. 8 Liras after bargaining.

- 100 g apple tea: 1 lira after bargaining when bought in bulk in the Egyptian market

- Pedalisa lunch for 2: 20 -25 liras, 12 euros

- Konyali lunch: 50 liras, 25 euros - skimpy lunch - sharing main course, no alcohol and so on. They have sandwich counter which is cheaper.

- Kofte piyaz deli lunch for 2 - 15 liras, 8 Euros
-- Cisek Pidesi dinner lunch with vodka, no dessert - around 35 liras (17 euros)

- Roadside hamburger - 4 liras or 2 euros

- Starbucks cappuccino - 4.5 liras or 3 euros for small (tall) Gloria's was a couple of Liras more

Ottoman Rhapsody

2008-10-28T01:25:00.000-07:00

In retrospect it seems strange that we spent so many hours fretting over our holiday plans. Now it seems that Turkey was the natural choice. It was everything that we had wanted from our holiday. And much more. We loved every moment of it. I am still trying to get over it. For example I went to the Bagel Shop to have a goat cheese Bagel this morning simply because I was missing my breakfast cheese fests from Turkey.

We wanted a holiday which was different from our Far Eastern ones and we got it. The glass and chrome malls were replaced with lovely shops in the 19th century buildings of Taksim Square and the 15th Century Grand Bazar and Spice Bazars. The hot and humid weather was replaced by a pleasant chill which made one feel that was one was moving around in natural air conditioning, even outdoors.

We wanted history and we got to see the the awe inspiring early Christian cave churches of Cappadaccia from the 3rd Century AD, the amazing underground cities of the Hitites (I don't know how they stayed there for 3 months, I ran out after 3 minutes), the Hagia Sofia, the principle Church of Christrianity when Constantinople, as Istanbul was called then, was the centre of the world, the epic Blue Mosque from the 15th Century and the Topkapi Palace from the same period when the Ottoman Empire ruled a large part of Europe, Asia and Africa and the Dolmabahace Palace from the time when the Ottomans wanted to Westernise themselves in the 18th century and the mysterious 15ht century water reservoir, the Basilico Cistern. We relived a bit of modern history as we stayed in the former Greek streets of Beyogulu where there was civil strife in the 1950s and we had dinner in the refurbished flower market of Cisak Padesi.

It was also a holiday of historical discoveries. I had grown up studying about Rome, Greece, Egypt, Mesopotamia and then Western Europe. I had no idea of the magnitude of the Byzantine Empire and its successor, the Ottoman Empire.

I craved for open spaces and I got 3 hotel rooms where I could look into the sky, one from which we could see the sea and another from which we could see the amazing Cappadoccian terrain. We took a beautiful cruise on the blue Bosporus, drifting by the prettiest of houses and took a hike through the Cappadoccia valleys. We saw the most magical terrains which made one wonder whether this was all a dream.

We wanted to be pampered and stayed in 3 lovely hotels - the grand dame, Marmara Istanbul with its chandeliers and wood and brass theme, the luxurious boutique cave rooms of the Museum hotel in Cappadoccia and the funky Marmara Pera in Istanbul which was petite but perky with its purple and green theme.

We came across some of the friendliest people in the world who were ever willing to help one out. Language was rarely a problem. If we came across someone with limited English then he would go and find out someone who could help. We also saw some of the most smartly dressed people right from those on the streets to even the hotel staff or the chauffeurs.

And. of course, the food. We had some of the most delectable food. Right from the local fare in the delis of Istiklal Cadesi to the gourmet fare in the Museum Hotel restaurant, the Le'la and in the Konyali Restaurant in the Topkapi Palace. We had a most memorable anniversary dinner in Keravan Serai to the beat of the belly dancers and while being entertained by the one of the most talented linguist we had ever seen. We had the dainty local apple teas and Turkish coffees in equally dainty cups and had lovely cappuccinos and cikkolata frappuccinos in Starbucks and were tickled when we got our loyalty card at Gloria Jeans, Istanbul.

We were so happy that we kept smiling through the holiday as we explored Turkey through our friend's Lonely Planet Guide.

Through all of this I read Orhan Pamuk's Istanbul to get a sense of the soul of the city. Then I thought I must jot down my immediate memories before getting into more detailed posts.

So keep watching this space for more.

To be or not to be....off to Turkey

2008-10-14T08:31:00.000-07:00

After months of indecisiveness we are setting for our annual wedding anniversary holiday (22nd October) early tomorrow morning. We are off to Turkey - Istanbul and Cappadoccia.

Our earlier international holidays to Thailand and Malaysia were fairly simple and we did not did take much time deciding on the destination.

But this is how it happened this time:

It's our seventh anniversary so we should be some place special
Let's go to Egypt
Hotels seem dicey, let's got to Turkey
Prices don't seem that different to let's do Prague, Vienna, Budapest
Too many visas why don't you go to Switzerland, prices are similar
It will be too cold let's look at Turkey again
Egypt hotels aren't too bad, I know of a couple of good places. Us - OK let's book that
Egypt hotels aren't available during your anniversary (22nd, October) as there is a car rally
OK let's look at Turkey
Which hotels?
Oh can you give us Switzerland options too?
If you recommend Marmara at Istanbul, are the bathrooms good there? My wife is very particular! The whole holiday hinges on this.b
We don't want to go too many places. We are keen on history. No amusement parks or packaged tours please
OK knock of Anatolia, let's look at Istanbul, Cappadoccia and Pammukale for Troy and Ephesus
Flying to so many places in Turkey is too expensive, can we drop one? Which one?
Ok Cappadoccia and Istanbul it is
Hold on, we can't spend our anniversary in airports...let's leave Bombay a day earlier
Cave hotels at Cappadoccia? Sounds interesting. Go ahead. Deluxe rooms? Go ahead

Of course my finances collapsed well before the global crash. But at least our holiday plans were settled.

Point 7 is where Arvind Tandon of Faraway Places (+91 22 26335070) stepped in. He counselled us when we were completely at sea. He had been to both Turkey and Egypt and could speak authoritatively on both which gave me a lot of confidence. He then put us on to his colleague Dilber Mistry. Dilber saw us through points 7 to 18, patiently answering the emails I'd fire by the minute and responding to our changing plans without our murmur. She too had been to Turkey and could advise us from experience including on specific stuff on hotels, cost of eating and so on. That was a great help.

The experience so far has been exactly what we would like from a travel agency and something tells me that the trip will be fantastic too. In fact Arvind and Dilber were sweet enough to insist on meeting Kainaz and me today before we left so that they could brief us in person and answer any questions that we had. I was quite impressed and touched by that.

I know look forward to returning on the 25th with lot of interesting stuff on Turkey to put on faraway diaries. I don't know if the coincidence struck you but Arvind's agency is called 'faraway places'.

Do write in with your comments. I love reading them and will publish them once I am back on the 25th of October.

A city for all seasons: Durga Pujo in Mumbai

2008-10-13T04:02:00.000-07:00

I moved to Mumbai ten years back. So technically it is not a 'faraway place' I have made this lovely city my home and it has welcomed me with open arms.

But there is one time of the year when I feel very home sick. That is during Durga Pujo, the biggest festival of us Bengalis. The first time I realised how far away I was from home was when I had visited the Durga Pujo at my adopted home of Bandra at Mumbai ten years back. That's when there were boulders in my throat.

There were just too many memories of Durga Pujo in Calcutta - the year long anticipation, the new clothes, the hair cut two weeks before the festivities, no studies, countless hours spent with friends, the puja in my building - Debjan Apartments, the food, the pandal hopping through the city with friends - all of these came back back in a rush of black and white images as I stood at the Bandra Pujo, fresh out of Calcutta.

I have tried to make it back to Calcutta most years since then during the Pujos. Though I must say that a bit of the magic has gone with the friends I grew up with being available only on Facebook and Orkut, if at all.

I didn't go back this year. But I did see a couple of nice Pujos at Mumbai. I went to the Balkanjibari pujo for the first time at Santa Cruz on my way to the prayer meetings for Mamma (Kainaz's grandmom who had just passed away). I said a prayer for her. The setting was just right as the Pujo was very well organised. I got a a fairm amount of peace and quiet in the pandal that afternoon to be alone with my thoughts. A far cry from the community Pujos of Calcutta which are like big fairs with streams of people pouring in. This reminded me of the pujo in our apartment complex in Calcutta.

I went to the Bandra Pujo on the penultimate night of the festival. Again, I entered the premises peacefully. Something one could not imagine in the big pujos of Calcutta. I went to the prayer area and was there for quite a while. I am usually not very religious and don't leave offerings at religious places. But this year I left some money at the Santa Cruz pujo for Mamma and at the Bandra pujo in appreciation of the way Bandra has welcomed me over the last decade.

I waited for almost an hour for Kainaz to join me. During this time I was seeing the entertainment programme which was going on and was part of the Pujo celebrations. It reminded me of the the programmes we would organise in our pujo at Debjan Apartments, the skits, the songs, the 'orchestra' to which we all danced.

Once Kainaz came, we made a beeline for the food stalls which are a part of our Pujo pilgrimage at Bandra. As you can see from my picture I really enjoyed the lovely food and downed chicken rolls, mughlai paratha, kosha mangsho (mutton) and sweets with great glee.

The prices were a bit extreme (Rs 50 for a roll) but I guess that's the price one paid for nostalgia. The quality of the food was largely pretty good. Though it's smart to stick to the snack items which are fried in front of one instead of the cooked meals.

The most famous Pujo of Mumbai used to be the one at Shivaji Park. I have been there a couple of times. It is quite huge and is filled with people. It reminded me of the Md Ali Park pujo in Calcutta as it is one of the older pujos and the crowd was comparatively less up market than the Bandra one. The equivalent of the Bandra Pujo would be Maddox Sqaure or Jodhpur Park in Calcutta which have a comparatively younger and trendier crowd.

I guess the most famous Pujo in Mumbai now would be the one at Lokhandwala. This is supported by the Times of India now and is patronised by the filmi or Bollywood crowd. I have never been there yet. The famous Lokhandwala traffic snarls are too forbidding.

And if you are at Bandra you don't really need to go anywhere else for anything in Mumbai!

A bathroom for Mrs K: Baga hotels

2008-10-10T02:28:00.000-07:00

There are a few memories which rush in the moment one thinks of holidays. For me trips to Kolkata means eating great food at home and out, Bangkok brings back memories of some of the liveliest streets in the world, think KL and one thinks of glass and chrome malls and then there are the lazy river rides of the Sunderbans and the peaceful, lonely trails of Matheran.

One big part of our holidays at Baga, Goa, is finding the right place to stay. North Goa, where Baga is situated, doesn't have the branded hotels such as Holiday Inn, Taj, Leelas, of South Goa. You have a variety of hotels which are all quite different from each other. What we look for is location (close to the beach and and close to our favourite restaurants), clean rooms AND clean bathrooms. The last means the world to Kainaz.

So our trips have seen Kainaz look at a number of rooms before settling on one. Didn't matter that we could be tired and bedraggled from the journey from Mumbai. We have spent hours walking the Baga Calangute stretch checking hotel after hotel after feeling dissatisfied with where we were staying. Kainaz is very picky. This has happened so many times now that it is as much a part of our Baga ritual as is having Baskin Robbins ice creams after fish baffat at Brittos or having a pork chilly fry on the shack the day we leave or going there in the first place on my birthday. The latter three are my obsessions just as clean toilets and hotel rooms are Kainaz's.

I will never forget Don Juom's which is the clean, two storied family run place opposite the Church at Baga. I had stayed there during my first trip to Baga with two of my friends. Somehow the three of us managed to share the tiny, very basic but clean and neat room for a princely sum of 100 Rs per head. This was ten years back. Frankly I don't remember the bathroom but I went there recently to show the place to Kainaz and IT seemed fine. Especially for those bachelor days where the idea was to just have fun away from draconian bosses and restrictive paying guest digs in Bombay where one shared a room and a toilet with many others.

Kainaz and I stayed at The Paradise Village the first time we went to Baga together on her birthday. This was a cluster of cottages which were not bad but not good either. The walls were damp, the bathroom mouldy and gloomy and the location was a bit off as it was at the end of Calangute and therefore quite far from Baga.

Our later trips were always in February during my birthday. This is peak season at Goa when rooms are at a premium.

The next time was carnival time and a friend help us find a place at The Saffron Resort as most places were booked. It was the same deal as Paradise Village, cottages with dank rooms and this was even further off from Calangute.

So we begun the first of our famous walks looking for a new hotel down the streets of Baga. We despaired as we saw that most of the good ones - Ronil, Cavalla Inn, Villa Goesa - were full and that the ones available were hell holes.

That's when we chanced upon the Goa Holiday Resort. This place was opposite Infanteria and was owned by Punjabis settled in the UK. The room available was neat and clean and the bathroom was small but shiny and polished. The AC rates was the then Baga average of Rs 1500 or about 30-40 USD. We liked the place and booked ourselves without a thought the next year. We were shocked out of our wits when we reached. The room was dirty, walls were grimy, shower curtains were stained, basin was chipped and the restaurant which served steaks was replaced by a vegetarian restaurant. Then we discovered that the ownership had changed.

Kainaz and I begun our desperate alternative hotel hunt the first night itself. By a stroke of luck we got a room at Villa Goesa. This was a place where my boss from those days had stayed. We never got a room earlier as they are always full. This is a lovely place. The entire property is well landscaped and neat. The staff is very friendly. The rooms are airy, bright, clean and they have an elegant white paint and dark wood theme going. The bathrooms were neat and clean and the plumbing sparkled. The location was lovely as it was by the road in between Baga and Calangute. You came out of the property and walked through their private coconut grove and hit a slightly peaceful part of the beach. The rates were reasonable too and were around Rs 1700 - 2000 or 50 USD.

We loved the place and stayed there during our next trips. Paradise found? End of hotel searches? Not Really!

Our luck ran out when we went for our fourth trip this February. The internet booking agent had messed up the booking and the hotel claimed they didn't know we were were coming. This after we had paid in full from Bombay. So we got a gloomy room, with a groaning aircon, creaking bed and a hand shower in the bathroom which was quite geriatric. We raised a stink and then got a room which was better but where the bathroom flooded. We were mighty peeved! This too on our fourth stay there and after recommending the hotel to all.

So the Karmakars set off on their hunt again. That's when we chanced upon a boutique hotel called Waters in the lane behind the Subway sandwich shop. This tiny two storied hotel had about eight rooms. It was very tastefully done and the rooms were named after various colours. We got the red room. This had a chirpy red wall, a red candle, four coaster beds, a very nice and large bathroom with red tiles. We just loved the place and ran out of Villa Goesa which had betrayed us and moved in there.

The little stuffed toy which we picked up from the Mumbai airport with its red shirt was quite at home there. The pace was a steal as the room was a couple of hundred Rs cheaper than Villa Goesa and the room was much much better. The staff was very helpful too. It turned out that it was run by a couple of young people, one of whom was from Calcutta! The place was so lovely that it really a bit of magic to the holiday. In fact we cancelled our air ticket, lost money, paid more for a new ticket and stayed an extra day once we moved in here. That's how much we loved Waters. I am keeping my fingers crossed that we can go there next year and that it doesn't let us down.

After all this bathroom did meet Mrs K's approval!

There is another lovely place which is slightly more expensive. It is called Casa Alexia. It is a villa with lovely rooms with elegant, antique furnishings. This is beside the old people's home on the Baga Road. The only problem is that we have never seen any guests there and it does look a bit spooky. Perhaps the Sunset Boulevard of Baga?

PS. Despite our recent bad experience I would not write off Villa Goesa completely. It is closer to the beach and it is a larger property with lawns and a swimming pool. This would be a better place to go to if you are with kids. Just book in advance and try to book directly or through a site called www.nivalink.com who are quite efficient

Mumbai budget Eats

2008-10-03T01:39:00.000-07:00

A reader of my food blog, finely chopped, wrote in yesterday asking for suggestions on where to treat an out of town friend at Colaba or Bandra at Mumbai. She requested me to keep in mind that she'd be footing the bill so requested me to keep a tight budget in mind.

Here's what I wrote to her:

I have tried to think of places which are economical yet seem special as you are treating someone. Some of these places don't serve alcohol. Alcohol jacks up the price.

List of around Rs 750 (USD 10) for 2 places:

Bandra:-

Carter Rd Gully: Karims (he might get to see Malaika Arora there, I ate here last night a lovely Muslim dinner for two cost us Rs 315/ 8 USD),Kwik Wok (Oriental), Open Affair (no theme), Maybe (continental, very basic tastes), Crepe Station (ditto) all without alcohol...finish off with gelato or (romantic?) walk by the sea
JATC (salads, pizzas, pastas, sand wich, subs) no alcohol but very alive
5 Spice: alcohol but expensive, food very value for money - one main dish more than enough for . Try - chilly chicken, burnt chilly rice or noodle, Thai curry. Desserts are 125 plus but very good - MY PICK
Basilico, Out of the blue, Red Box very nice but will cross 1000 minimum
If you are willing to slum it, Khaane Khaas, well within 500 lovely food, clean but spartan seating. Try tandoori chicken, black daal,jeera chicken, fish tikka. Great service, no crowd

Colaba/ South Bombay

Churchill - lovely continental food, average price of 200 per dish -must have sausages in firecracker sauce, prawn newberg, ice tea. Long queues though
Mocambo - beside Citibank in Fort. Lovely ambiance. Insist on theParsi menu. Conti stuff is 300 plus. But Parsi/ Goan stuff is around Rs100 per plate and can be positioned as unique to Bombay. Must trys -dhansak or pulao, daal, bheja cutlet, if adventurous - Ox's tongue. MY PICK given its a treat and has to be economical and should give a flavour of Bombay. You get alcohol too. Ice teas are very good, same management as Churchill
Leopolds - very cult specially if he has read Shantaram. Sit downstairs though as upstairs is very expensive. Chinese is good and potions are large
If he doesn't mind no meat or no alcohol take him to the Gujarati Thali places such as Golden Star at Charni Rd. Quite ornate, unique,food is plenty and prices are fixed (around 300 per thali)

Readers: please add in your suggestions. The brief is inexpensive yet not 'cheap'

Cinema Paradiso in Bengali: Kolkata

2008-09-27T08:56:00.000-07:00

This was a strange post to write. I lived in Calcutta for 18 odd years after my early years at England and Iran. I did most of my schooling in Calcutta or Kolkata as it is now known. So Kolkata is the city where I grew up. At the same time I have been at Bombay, or Mumbai as it is now known, for close to ten years. So is Calcutta home? Is Bombay home? More importantly can I write about Calcutta from a tourist's point of view? Am I tourist or a visitor in Calcutta?

These are questions one asks oneself on lazy Sundays.

Disclaimer: I have written this post over a week. It is fairly long so keep some time out before you start. Also I lost contact with blogger some million times while closing this so am entitled to a few typos %^&&! I even lost contact after I wrote that line. Grrrr

This post is inspired by a programme I saw on Discovery Travel and Living, Joan Collin's London where she speaks of London from a tourist's point of view. That's what I will attempt to do in this post. This is not a definitive tourist's guide. It reflects how I see the city. It talks of memories which are dear to me from ten years back. Places which are must visits for me when I head back. I know that this could be very different for someone else. It will not reflect a lot of things which have come up in the last ten years. Though I guess food haunts would be common to most Bengalis heading back. What the post doesn't detail out are some landmarks of Calcutta which I will list first. These are must sees. It is just that I have not visited them in the recent past. Some of these are:

The Victoria Memorial: the lovely white marble monument for Queen Victoria. It has a museum too which was shut in our last two visits there - Monday, Durga Puja - but has artifacts from the British Raj. It has a pebbled path which I used to love crunching over during school trips. It also has nice gardens which is a favourite spot for lovers seeking some quiet and privacy but could be a nice spot to rest during your travels.

The Indian Museum: Like everything good in Calcutta is probably more than hundred years old and was built by the British. Where else in the world can you see two Egyptian mummies, fossils of dinosaurs and Buddhist archaeological relics for less than a dollar or so? If you are willing to overlook the lack of air conditioning, clean loos, good lighting and proper labelling this is a real treasure trove.

Nandan Cinema: This came up before the multiplex era but was conceptualised by the great Satyajit Ray. So you get to see a movie the way this Oscar Lifetime Award thought films should be seen

Birla Planetarium: the best place to lose yourself in the mystery of the skies and was there well before the 3D domes. And the aircon and dark lights and sonorous commentary make it just the place to snooze if you are tired are are not into astronomy.

Elgin Road momo shops: There are a row of tiny Tibetan restaurants. Here where you get lovely momos and home cooked Tibetan food at a very reasonable price. I assume that they still exist. I had last eaten there in the late nineties

The best thing about these is that they are all within the same location in the city and are easily accessible from the Rabindra Sadan Metro Station. The entry fee to most of these places won't be more than a US dollar if at all.

Calcutta Zoo/ chiriyakhana - tigers, lions, cross breeds between the two, elephants, 100 year old tortoises, crocs, snakes, giraffes, monkeys, bears - take your pick. Again less than a dollar to enter. Like most of the other places don't expect facilities such asgood toilets, helpful labeling, guides. What you will get are interesting things to see, ample food and enough places to sit and rest. Just be careful you don't read on some cosy couple as most public places/ gardens in Calcutta are popular hangouts for the romantically inclined. Be careful about feeding the animals. Once a drunken visitor had got into the tiger's pit on Christmas in the nineties to garland a tiger... and became the main course for lunch that day.

Tangra: This is Calcutta's China Town. The Chinese food here is supposed to be very good. I have been there only once so can't say much

This brings me to Kalyan's Kolkata:

1. Best time to go: This is a controversial one. Many, including Kainaz, won't agree with me, but my pick is Durga Puja. Just about every Bengali I know, except me, is heading there this year which proves my point. Durga Puja is a five day festival for the Hindu Goddess Durga. This is the main festival of Kolkata and happens between late September to early November. It is more a social event than a religious one. It is the time when the city is at its festive best, everyone wears new clothes, offices are shut, the city is lit up in an array of lights, there are amazing pandals (make shift tent like structures) in various forms which over the years have ranged from replicas of Machhi Pichhu of Peru to the submarine in which Netaji Shubhas Bose escaped and there are the clay images of the Goddeess Durga and her children and the demon mohishashur which range from traditional forms to myriad experimental looks.

You have to be an into adventure travel if you come at this time. What you will get is traffic gridlocks, huge queues (3-4 hr long) to get into the main pandals, crowded buses and trains, traffic diversions, taxi refusals, sweat, heat, grime, flight rates which are their peaks and outstation trains which are over booked... you will get crushed by the crowd, you could get mugged or groped...you will have to be very patient, very tolerant, very strong, very chirpy. What you will get to see is the city at its showy best, some amazing examples of creativity, craft and dexterity in the forms of the pandals, images and lights and a human spirit which is very humbling and yet inspiring.

Last year we met a doctor from New York who had come all the way to see Calcutta during Durga Puja. In terms of efforts it is like scaling the Everest but I can promise you a million memories worth a lifetime. I seriously feel that this is a huge tourist opportunity which is just waiting to be tapped. However, if you do want a more serene time to go then I would suggest January to March when the weather is at pleasantest and when there are various fairs and exhibitions going on.

2. Where to shop? There are a number of interesting places especially if you are looking at handicrafts. Look at Swabhumi near the airport for dirt cheap handicrafts (decorative figurines, local musical instruments, shoes, clothes, vases, tribal paintings, etc) where nothing costs more than USD 10-15 dollars.

My pick for the complete Calcutta shopping experience would be New Market at Lindsay street. You would fine a long list of branded apparel shops there. You would also find book shops, chemists and anything else though be warned that the staff in shops are not always the most enterprising or customer friendly....but that's Calcutta. You will also find a lot of hawkers on the street selling hand sewn tapestry and table covers, brass work, leather slippers, bags, soft toys and even comfortable cotton pyjamas. Heavy bargaining is required, quote half of what they say to start with.

Then there is the 'New Market' itself or Sir Stewart Hogg Market itself which is a covered enclosure, is dark, gloomy, has a strange musty odour, but where you will get just about anything that you are looking for from clothes to suitcases to Chinese shoes to cold cuts to Tibetan junk jewellery to imported food items to soft toys to lingerie of all forms to saris to flowers...quite the old curiosity shop. You can often good bargains here including on branded goods. It has a spider web like layout which could be a bit confusing but the iron cannon at the middle could be a good homing point.

You will never be lost for food here as you will find myriad eating joints across all budgets and food types here. Toilets? Don't even think about them.

3. Best place to shop, the twenty first century way: Calcutta has a number of new malls which have come up. Most would match up with the best in the Far East in terms of the range of brands, cleanliness, huge size, clean toilets (!), food courts. My pick would be the South City Mall at Tollygunge because of the number of times Kainaz and I went during our last trip to recuperate in the air con. You could bump into my Mom there these days as she has certainly become a mall rat who would put a sixteen year old to shame with her energy.

By the way, that's my wife Kainaz, and not my mom in the picture below.

4. Best place to catch the sunset: Go to Outram Ghat which is near Dalhousie at the bank of the Hooghly river. Take a ferry, tickets are roughly Rs ten (25 cents USD), cross the river and go to Howrah where you will be welcomed by the red Howrah Station where long distance trains come into Calcutta.

Cross back and catch the sunset across the river. Would give any 70 mm a run for its money. And the cool river breeze is to die for. The government has a landscaped garden there called Millenium Park where you could rest a bit. Dalhousie Square, which is at the Calcutta side of the river, has an array of majestic buildings from the British rule which gives a very European flavour. The buildings are worth walking around to get a bit of late nineteenth century magic. You also get to see the Howrah Bridge which is the biggest landmark of Kolkata.

5. Best Place to feel scholarly: Calcutta is a city which is often associated with art, creativity, higher learning, scholars and there is no better place than College Street or Boi Para ('book street') to get a sense of this. It is called 'boi para' after the line of tiny book shops here where you can get every conceivable book including some very rare editions.

In this stretch you will find one of India's most famous colleges, my Alma mater, Presidency College. This 185 yr old college has been home to many of India's Nobel Winners, academicians, journalists, writers, film personalities...the list goes on.

The Calcutta University and the Medical College are close by. As is India's oldest management school and another Alma mater of mine, IISWBM. You would find the famous Indian Coffee House here. Many a famous literary and political debates would happen here over endless cups of black coffee and under creaking ceiling fans. Another area which is a prime prospect for heritage walks but unfortunately doesn't have any.

6. Best Place to get a flavour of the Indian Independence Movement: Netaji's House near the Forum Mall is the house of Bengal's most famous freedom fighter, Subhash Chandra Bose. He is the biggest icon in Bengal with airports, roads named after him and there exists a political party too which reveres him. You get to see some his personal belongings, his bed, his marble dinner plates, the car in which he escaped, his journals...again marred by poor labelling but still a spine tingling experience.

7. Where & what to eat? Calcutta is the food capital of India. At least we Bengalis believe so. This will therefore be a longish section.

Street food: phuchka (hollow semolina balls stuffed with mashed potato, hot spices and tamarind water) at Lindsay Street behind New Empire Cinema or Dakshinapan or anywhere else in Calcutta. Not advised to unacclimatised European or American stomachs as they are not very hygienic.

Rolls (deep fried flower crepes/ wraps stuffed with kebabs or layered with eggs and flavoured with onion and lime). This should be OK as it is cooked in front of you. My picks for rolls would be Badshah at New Market, Hot Kathi Roll (not Kusum) at Park Street or any Bedwin outlet.

Continental: Mocambo at Park Street for fish a la diana (betki stuffed with prawns served in tartare sauce) and devilled crabs

Bakes & cakes: Here I'll go for Flury's which was started by a Swiss family five generations back. Cookie Jar is a popular place to but the stuff at Flury's is slightly more rustic, tastier and different. The main shop is at Park Street but they have opened franchise outlets at various places now.

Bengali Food: While Calcutta has an Oh Calcutta my pick would be for Kewpies which is a restaurant in a house at Bhowanipore outside a mall called Forum. It has maintained a look of an old Bengali landlord's house (Raajbaari) and gives a very quaint feeling. The food is damn good too. Go for the thalis or set meals which give you a sample of various dishes. The kosha mangsho (reduced mutton gravy) is a must have with fluffy luchis (Bengali flour based bread). The prices are quite reasonable and are a lot cheaper than Oh Calcutta in Bombay.

Tea: the best place to have tea is without doubt Dolly's Tea Shop at Dakshinapan. This is a shop run by a lady called Dolly and her able female staff. They have a lovely range of hot teas and the most refreshing and orginal ice teas. Kainaz makes it a point to go there as often as possible during our trips. It is a tiny place with 3 to 4 tables and a few more tastefully strewn tea boxes and stools to sit. The prices are ridiculously cheap with no ice tea costing more than one USD or Rs 45. Most are less. Just remember to go easy on the teas though as there are no decent toilets there. They also serve simple and lovely sandwiches. You can buy teas to take home from here. An advantage here is that it is located at Dashinapan at Dhakuria which has a collection of handicraft shops from various states of India. The staff in these government run shops don't look very happy if you want buy anything but you get a great range of stuff from all over India at one place at fixed prices.

Food street: Undoubtedly Park Street. Get off at the Park Street Metro (Subway station) and take your pick from (in order of location) the rolls at Hot Kati roll, the confectioneries and bakes at Flurys, the lovely continental fare at the dark, Oriental Express like Mocambo, have some great Chinese fare at Barbecue or Tung Fung or arguably the best biryani in Calcutta at Shiraz which is at end of Park Street. On the way you will cross the Park Hotel with its popular discos and pubs -Tantra and Someplace else, my brother's college St Xavier's College (don't expect a Presidencian to wax eloquent about it but I must admit that it is right up there with the best in the country). A big citizen's protest movement was on last time we were at Calcutta about the mysterious death of one of its student, Rizwanur Rehman, which had the set the entire country talking.

Some other land marks are the Hobby Centre (the first place to serve burgers in Calcutta) and a couple of auction houses for lovely antiques and the rather seed but popular Oly Pub famous for cheap beer, steaks and scurrying rats. Park Street is the equivalent of the Colaba Causeway of Bombay, the high street of Calcutta

.8. Best place to glimpse the wonders of the river: go to any fish market and see the mazing range of fish - rohu, eelish, pabda, parshe, prawns - the list goes on. Unlike the markets in Bombay here fish is sold by the kilo and not by piece and it is sold by men and not women. This shot is from the Bansdroni market near my home in South Calcutta. I picked some fish from the man and got it home. I discovered that the fish had rotted by the time I opened it at Bombay!

9. Best way to travel: Kolkata has myriad ways of travelling which are inexpensive and politely put, adventurous and interesting. You have the hand pulled rickshaws made famous in Dominique Lapierre's City of Joy, though frankly I feel squealish at another human being pulling me.

You would have over crowded public buses. There are the Ambassador taxis which are look like the quaint cars of the sixites but have creaky seats, churlish drivers, and smelly tapestry.

My favourite is the Metro or the Subway which is clean, cool, fast and is the best way to cross the city distances. Another lovely experience are India's last remaining trams. These eco friendly, electric carts trundle around like lazy elephants and are a good pick if you are not in a hurry.

10. Best gift to take for the folks back home: undoubtedly sweets or 'mishti'. Kolkata is famous for its sweets shops which dot every nook and corner of the city. Sweets are very cheap at an average price of Rd 5 per piece. These milk and cottage cheese based wonders are famous all over India. According to Chitrita Banerjee's 'Eating India' they owe their existence to the Portuguese who ruled India for a short while. Just make sure to carry them properly as they get spoilt if not consumed in 2-3 days. The hard 'kora pak' sandesh's are the most hardy of the lot. You can also get canned rassogollas if you are not flying out. They stay longer but are more expensive. The most famous sweet shops are Putiram, Bhim Nag, Ganguram, K C Das, Banccharam, Mouchak. You can't go wrong with these. I buy my stuff from Sandesh Mahal which is outside my house at Bansdroni.

So there you have, a flavour of my Calcutta, Kolkata, whatever.

A city which is mad, noisy, smelly, dirty, sweaty, lazy, grouchy, nosy, short tempered, exasperating and yet vibrant, colourful, tasty, fragrant, multi cultural, vivacious, warm, passionate, fiesty, memorable, caring, liberal, creative, hosputable, unique and very very lovable!

Row Row Row a Boat: Floating Market, October 2005

2008-09-24T01:54:00.000-07:00

Have you ever bought vegetables from a boat? Have you ever gone fruit shopping on a boat?

I hadn't.

I grew up helping my mom shop in Calcutta by going to the fish market and the chicken guy and to the local grocer where I would wait patiently as the shop keeper would make small talk with all the shoppers till he looked at the patiently waiting, pimpled, school boy. Mumbai introduced me to the joy of self service malls and departmental stores.

The floating market near Bangkok was a completely different experience. It is based on Thailand's river civilisation where myriad houses are on the river on stilts and where you have a whole water world thingie going on. People live their lives there, shop there, fish there, grow up, get married...and are probably closer to the river than the fish that live in it.

The floating market was about a couple of hour's drive from Bangkok. I had first heard of it from my ex boss. He is an avid photographer. He told me that he had gone all the way there just to take photos.

I could understand why when we reached there. The place was a riot of colours. A photographer's delight. You had people in narrow canoe like boats selling fruits, vegetables, handicrafts in a fairly narrow canal. The tourists and shoppers move around in similar boats to look around. You hollered out if something caught your eye, both boats stopped as the transaction was made. Strangely enough, there was more order in the chaos than in a typical Indian road as everyone would peacefully and patient manoeuvre around each other in the market. There was a busy buzz which really energised one. At the same time one felt light years way from the daily grind. It was as if one was in a world where life was simple and uncomplicated, a world where there were no bar codes or offers of the day.

It was one of the most vivid experiences of my life which I will never forget.

We reached the market in James Bond boats. These are narrow jet propelled wooden boats which were used in a Bond film. Just the thing to excite a Bond fan like me. I could hear the Bond track play in my mind as we sped down to the market.

Kainaz had her moments of thrill too as we stopped at a snake farm on the way. She took a picture with the snakes while I stood a few kilometers away. She is apparently fascinated by snakes. I don't know what it says about her choosing me then.

The photo below is of two boys in the farm who took the venom out of a cobra in front of us.

Another quaint travelling memory from that day was that of an elderly Pakistani Hindu couple who we met during the trip. They had left their children at home and were having a ball at Thailand. I think all of us enjoyed some company of people from the sub continent after our days in the Far East. I remembered that the gentleman was particularly friendly and boisterous in contrast to his wife who would keep smiling sweetly. Kainaz and I really enjoyed the Indian snack, chiwda/ dalmoth, which they offered us and which was a pleasant break from our favourite Thai curries.

I hope Kainaz and I keep travelling the world without a care when we are their age.

The Chilly Crab Trail : The world on a platter at Singapore, April 2008

2008-09-20T02:56:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen a stuffed toy which comes with its own recipe?

The hospitality kit at my hotel at Singapore had just that. A tiny red stuffed toy in the shape of a crab. It had a ‘Uniquely Singapore’ label attached to it. The label read ‘Chilli (sic) crab – one of the most famous dishes you can savour in Singapore, where the world comes to feast’. It also had a recipe of a dish called ‘chilly crab’. This was apparently the national dish of Singapore.

Just the welcome gift to make a foodie feel at home.

I set off on my quest for chilly crab. My first night was with some Indian friends who took me to an Indian restaurant at Clark Quay. Clark Quay is the redeveloped river front in Singapore which is its food Ibiza. You will find many restaurants from all over the world. The food ranges from Mongolian to Thai to Italian and of course good old desi curry. The architecture is quite hip with glass, chrome and laser lights. It is quite an awesome and glitzy place.

Now here’s the thing. I never have Indian food when I am abroad so good bye to the telecaller Mr 22 nights/ 23 days Europe Darshan with Indian Maharaj. I must admit that the channa masala, naans and tikkas in the restaurant were fairly good. But the fact that I don’t even remember the name of the restaurant reflects what I thought of it.

So night one was Indian with no sign of chilly crab. The next afternoon I disassociated from my friends who wanted to go malling and as I went to Museum Of Asian Civilisation (that’s the part of me which we Bengalis call aatel or intellectual). The museum was right in front of Boat Quay. Boat Quay was another reclaimed river front at Singapore. It is far more like the simple sister of Clark Quay. It has an array of open air restaurants facing the river front but doesn’t have the glamour and scale of Clark Quay.

I came fairly close to chilly crab here. I ordered the national dish here only to be told that there were no small crabs and the larger ones would be too big for not so little me. I left the place after having the most amazing prawn sambal there. They had done this dried red chilly based Indonesian dish to perfection with a few cubes of raw tomato giving just the right balance of tanginess. I had this with a fried rice which was not very different from what you get in Mumbai. So much for those who run down ‘Indian’ Chinese.

After Indian and Indonesian my next meal was Persian. I went with some folks I met at Singapore to Clark Quay one night where we went to a Persian restaurant called Shiraz. We had the most amazing feta cheese salad, the world’s best kebab platter which had a mix of venison, quail, fish, lamb and the most tender chicken ever. There was belly dancer there who through the haze of smoke and fumes of wine seemed to smack of Mebooba Mehbooba and Sholay.

The Singaporean national dish eluded me in my next meal too which was in a ‘hawker centre’ – Lau Pa Sat. The hawker centres in Singapore are food courtyards with an array of food stalls where you place your order and then eat in a central area. The dishes are fairly cheap and are popular with office folks, tourists and locals. Here I had an amazing Pilipino pork dish which had delectable chunks of pork in a creamy coconut sauce alone with some sticky rice. I also tried their pork satays which had a slightly tandoori’ish taste in comparison to the Malay version which is flavoured with crushed peanuts.

Our next dinner was hosted by a local Singaporean which was at the BIcentre. So would the revered chilly crab give us an audience? Missed again! We had some deceptively spicy clams, a stingray which was cooked partly in a lime marinade and partly in a red sambal paste, spicy prawn noodles. But no chilly crab!

It all came together in the banquet of the conference which I was attending. This was at a quaint restaurant called ‘No Signboard Restaurant’. The nine course dinner promised chilly crab at the end. I soldiered through the very soft and tantalising goose entrails, clams, prawns, venison cooked in a Chinese sauce and countless glasses of wine which the waitresses were refilling the way attendants replenish your glass of water in an Udipi.

Most at my table gave in by the time the chilly crabs appeared. I was the last man standing. Not for long though.

The chilly crab was a bit disappointing. The meat was a bit too ‘fish like’ for my taste. I did like the red sweetish gravy and dunked the sweet Chinese buns which come with in the gravy and quite enjoyed it. But overall, I think I would clearly prefer the butter pepper garlic crab at Mahesh in Bombay any day.

As my Singaporean sojourn came to an end it was clear that THIS was the food capital of the world. You get just about every cuisine there.

The national dish, chilly crab? Not hot and spicy enough for Indians I guess. I preferred the chilly crab that welcomed me to Singapore to the cooked version.