Kolkata Capsule

I was spending two weeks in Kolkata and had to take my father for a post surgery check up before heading out of the city for a weekend trip to Taki. With an enthusiastic thumbs up from the doctor , we were all set to drive to Taki - a sleepy little village on the banks of the river Icchamati, a few hours away from the city. I had cajoled my parents, aunt and cousin for the trip which I thought would be a welcome change from the humdrum of our daily lives. Bordering the two nations of India and Bangladesh , Taki was once home to the phenomenally wealthy Zamindars or landlords of Bengal. While now mostly in ruins , it offers a glimpse into the long bygone era. We left Kolkata in the morning and soon reached the highway. The expected 2 hours drive turned into a longer one thanks to a stranded truck which blocked access and we had to take a longer detour to reach the Sonar Bangla resort. Situated right on the banks of Icchamati , its a pristine getaway - all my cajoling for a weekend trip bore fruit as I saw all of them beaming at the sight of the clear blue skies and the river flowing through , despite the sweltering heat. We quickly freshened up and spend time on the river bank before returning back to our rooms for a sumptous lunch and reserving a boat for a tour of the river in the afternoon. The river tour was definitely the highlight of the trip  - separating the borders of India and Bangladesh , the gushing river is lined with lush greenery on both sides of the river bank. One can also see the river branching into tributaries - one heading into Bangladesh and the other heading into Sunderbans. During the Durga Puja , idols from both the countries glide on boats to the centre of this river , where they are immersed together. After the boatride , we spent the evening over tea and adda and retired to our rooms after dinner and a walk in the resort property.  We left for Kolkata back the next morning with a bunch of fond memories.

For the remaining time in Kolkata , the Bangalorean in me was holed up inside our home, wary of stepping out in the sultry Kolkata heat , until a bout of rainshowers brought down the temperatures. I headed out for a run one early morning and enjoyed the lush greenery along the running route at Rabindra Sarovar lake. I decided to head out to explore one of the oldest heritage buildings in Kolkata on Strand Road - Metcalfe Hall. Named after Charles Metcalfe , the then Governor General of India , the building is an actual replica of the Towers of  Winds in Athens, Greece and faces the Hooghly river. It also houses a unique museum called Ami Kolkata ( I am Calcutta) which displays the vibrant artistic , literary and multi cultural heritage of the city which has thrived across the years.It was a visual treat to walk through the galleries and a reminder to the rich history and culture that the city holds within itself.

My research on the internet also revealed other interesting architectures in the vicinity including two of the oldest synagogues and an Armenian church. I hailed a cab back home just in time before it started pouring , but adequately pleased with my explorations and the possibility of creating my own walking tour around Strand Road the next time I am visiting home. See you around Kolkata!

A Lockdown Escape

 

  We stood in front of the Kevada Masjid , silhoutted against the backdrop of the afternoon sun. The vast expanse in front of the mosque was deserted , there were no other tourists except for the three of us and the guards at the fairly well maintained ASI site. Another one of the hidden gems at the Champaner-Pavgadh UNESCO world heritage site, apart from being another brilliant example of Indo Islamic architecture , the mosque is also famous for it's Roman styled cenotaph. The three of us were up in glee , the excursion from the main route to find this hidden mosque was proving to be worth it. Champaner is a treasure trove, especially if you love history and the sheer wonder of discovering stories of the forgotten past waiting to be unlocked at these offbeat architectural wonders.

Kevada Masjid was a detour from the main road where we had visited the Jami Masjid earlier. Dating back to the 15th century , the Jami Masjid is a gigantic structure with two imposing minars on either side of the central entrance to the prayer hall. Built by Sultan Begada in 1509 , it is a beautiful example of Hindu , Jain and Islamic workmanship and architecture.

We climbed up the steps to the mosque to the entrance , the erstwhile dome destroyed in the earthquake opens up the sky above. We sat there for sometime breathing in the unique latticework and the serenity of the place.

The shadows through the hallways hide stories of a bygone era. It is said that Champaner was founded in the eight century by King Vanraj Chavda. According to historians, along with neighbouring Pavagadh, it formed an important buffer between Gujarat and Mandu in Malwa (now Madhya Pradesh). The Chauhan Rajputs, who conquered the area around 1300 AD, ruled here for nearly two centuries. Although several Gujarat Sultans tried to capture Pavagadh, it was finally Mahmud Begda who managed to capture it, made it his capital and patronised a spate of constructions. Conquered by the Mughals , the region slowly lost it’s importance and faded away.  Jami Masjid is said to have served as a model for later mosque architecture in India and serves as the perfect blend of Hindu , Jain and Islamic architecture as seen across Champaner which also earned this site it’s World Heritage Status. 

Our first stop at Champaner was the Shahi Masjid which was a private mosque for the royal family. The outer walls feature stone jharokhas with perforated latticework. The sprawling garden laid out by Persian landscapists outside the mosque is now in ruins but the remnants of water channels can still be seen.

Our plan to visit Vadodara over the weekend was quite impulsive like most good weekend trips. The fatigue of staying locked up in our homes needed a release and after the ebbing of the second wave , late November post Diwali was a good time to travel. After going through all weekend options, (we had struck off  MH and Kerala from our list) , M and I settled for Vadodara. Neither of us had been to Gujarat ,  the morning 1 hour flight from Bangalore was conveniently timed and I had a hotel voucher waiting to expire at year end. Between the most renowned Lakshmi Vilas Palace in Vadodara , a few other destinations in the city and Champaner-Pavgadh which was an hour drive away, it was perfectly placed to explore over a  three day weekend.  The night before our flight , M’s hubby, S, started experiencing travel pangs and sheepishly asked to be included in our girls’ trip. We agreed to take him along on the condition of carrying extra baggage for our shopping excursions from Vadodara.

M and I decided to explore some of the lesser known destinations in the city the day we landed. S was reaching the day after and would join us directly at Champaner-Pavgadh. We kept the Lakshmi Vilas in Palace in our itinerary for the last day as our flight was in the evening and the morning would leave us enough time to explore what is still the abode of the royal Gaekwad family of Vadodara and one of the most magnificent palaces in India.

The Maharaj Sayaji Rao ( MS Rao) university at Vadodara is an unlikely stop for a tourist but the historical building which houses the faculty of arts is a unique confluence of Indian and Byzantine architectural styles. The university built upon 275 acres of land has a sprawling campus and it took us few rounds of autorickshaw rides to locate the main building which is also a heritage site. Unfortunately for us , the building was under going renovation and we could only do a brief tour from outside. Photography was also not being allowed ( for renovation purposes ?) but I managed to get a few clicks before one of the guards asked me to put my camera away.

Our other stop that day was the Hazira Maqbara which houses the tomb of Qutubuddin Muhammad Khan the tutor of Emperor Akbar's son; and his own son Naurang Khan- an influential administrator of Emperor Akbar's dynasty. Displaying typical Mughal architecture styles with ostentatious arches and octagonal platforms, the real graves are inside an underground chamber while the replicas are in the tomb. Located inside a planned Persian Garden , the tomb is a monumental octagonal structure. Quietly tucked away in a corner of the city , sitting around in the tomb is a serene experience.  I could imagine early mornings in the tomb would be a divine experience with the sunlight filtering in through the jalis which adorn the arched openings.

Vaodadara’s most renowned attraction is the Lakshmi Vilas Palace (LVP) which is still the residence of the royal Gaekwad family. The largest private residence built till date , LVP is four times the size of Buckingham Palace. Built in the Indo Saracenic architectural style, it’s elaborate interiors boast well maintained mosaics , chandeliers ,artworks and a highly impressive collection of weaponry and art. Paintings by the famous artist , Raja Ravi Verma who was specially commissioned by the then Maharaja of Baroda adorn the palace. The palace also houses an expansive golf course which is now open to the public. Another notable building in the premises is the Maharaja Fateh Singh museum which was earlier a school constructed for the royal family and now houses a large number of artworks by Raja Ravi Verma as well as other renowned European artists. The audio assisted guide almost transports one across time as you walk through the hallways of the palace and listen to the tales of an era gone by.

After spending a relaxed few hours touring the Palace , we grabbed some amazing misal pav for lunch (our other Gujrati food experience was a sumptuous Thali the night before). It was time to head back home but the trip was our first quick glimpse into Gujarat’s rich heritage . Maybe we would come back sometime to discover more of it’s known or lesser known facets armed with more time to carry back our memories! (also a bigger shopping bag , the beautiful Ajrakh and Gujrati handicrafts left us spellbound and was dumped on poor S to lug back home :-)).

Written in Stone

Folk legend has it that a giant named Hidimbasura lived on the Chitradurga hills. When the Pandavas came with their mother Kunti during their exile, Bhima had a duel with Hidimba who was slain and peace returned to the area. Located amidst these hills is the Chitradurga fort . Built by the feudal lords of the Vijaynagar empire and later captured by Hyder Ali in 1779, the fort stands as a grand stone edifice encircled by seven circular walls.

It was a November morning and unlike most weekends I had to drag myself out of bed a tad too early. The photography clubs from B1 and B2 were off for a day trip to the Chitradurga fort. After the cursory delay of getting all the half awake photographers together, both the buses left the city and sped off on the Bangalore Pune highway. Save a few stops on the way to catch breakfast , and to pick up a lens from Sid (not to mention the attempt to abduct him) , the journey was uneventful. The more awake B1 folks managed to entertain themselves through the bus journey,while the B2 bus was a sleeping graveyard.

We reached Chitradurga around noon and made our way through the fort. The guide we had (unfortunately) hired turned out to be a dictator of some sorts, insisting on undivided attention leaving us running for cover.The boulder strewn landscape around Chitradurga is embellished with watchtowers, temples,bastions and fortifications all around. No wonder that the fort is also known as “Kallina Kote” or the “Place of stone fort”. There are 28 entrances, a palace, 19 gateways, granaries,50 warehouses and water tanks inside the fort.

An interesting story surrounds a small opening in the rocks in the fort. During the siege of the fort , Hyder Ali came upon a clever plan to send his soldiers through the opening in the rocks. The guard on duty near the hole had gone home for lunch and his wife,Obawa,noticed the soldiers emerging out of the opening. She killed the soldiers one by one with her wooden club (“Onake”). In the ensuing battle , the fort of Chitradurga was lost to Hyder Ali , but the opening in the rocks still remains a witness to the legend of ‘Onake Obawa’.

The temples served up as interesting photo-ops for the photographers. Puja is still conducted at some of these ancient temples. The bored priests break off into a smile as we tried to click them. We also hiked around in groups to the hilltops which provide a stunning view of the surrounding area. By evening , we had finished off our tour and boarded our buses to return to Bangalore. The 15th century fortress lay behind , seeped in stories and legends of it’s own.

Not to miss at the Chitradurga fort:
Watch the ‘monkey man’ Jyothi Raja scale the fort walls with effortless ease. A passionate rock climber, Raja is a regular at the fort precincts and has garnered a huge fan following for his unique rock climbing skills



The Eclectic Getaway

“Kochi, Kerala’s Friendly Gateway, Is No Backwater” read the article on New York Times travel. I was sifting through google trying to figure out a destination for the long weekend around Independence Day. Explicit instructions from M just said “No beach , please!”. The woman elegantly went incommunicado after that and no amount of hounding over phone calls or emails helped. The responsibility of looking for a destination was thus successfully delegated to me , the sole back up plan being hanging out at Hard Rock Cafe in Bangalore for all the three days. The snake boat race in Alleppey around the same time was an option , but I had already been there same time last year. The idea of Fort Cochin seemed like a good fit – I had briefly passed through Jew town on my way back to Bangalore from Alleppey after the snake boat race. I badly wanted to catch a Kathakali dance performance and M could get her first glimpse of the backwaters too – our two main agendas were ticked!

Fort Kochi was the territory that was granted by the Rajah of Kochi to the Portugese , later captured by the Dutch and finally by the British. There is a distinct colonial air around the place, be it the ancient architecture of the churches or the elegantly built boutique hotels on the waterfront , some restored from heritage buildings. The place is also a backpacker's retreat and tell tale signs are everywhere – affordable homestays (the one where we stayed ,bang opposite the St Francis Church claimed to be the last residence of Vasco Da Gama till his death and burial in the same church ), flea markets lined across the streets and small cafes tucked around the corners in the local neighbourhoods.

We reached Fort Kochi on Friday afternoon and decided to catch a Kathakali performance in the evening at the Kerala Kathakali Centre. We got in early to catch a glimpse of the elaborate make up process before the actual performance. The show begins with a demonstration of the main facial expressions used in Kathakali. The experience of  watching a Kathakali performance is a fascinating one -a vibrant medley of dance, mime, music and acting. Expressions so vivid that we were left to wonder how is it humanely possible to practice and perform such an art form! An enthralling 3 hours later we headed off for dinner and back to the venerable Vasco's home . Despite much speculation around the apparition of the Portugese explorer , the night went away uneventfully. Vasco probably decided against a rendezvous with the two not-so-sane women:).

Early next morning we headed off to Kumarakom. Situated on the banks of the Vembanad Lake (the longest lake in India), Kumarakom is a beautiful backwater destination.The cruise took us through an intricate network of canals and lagoons lined with lush, green paddy fields, finally ending in the Vembanad Lake. The boat stood still in the endless expanse of the lake, and the gently flowing breeze put us into the throes of the most heavenly sleep ever. Vembanad  deservedly earned it's place on my list of favourite places to snooze*!

We reached back Fort Kochi in time to catch the sunset along the waterfront and the postcard Chinese fishing nets. Plenty of fish mongers were still open in the evening , selling fresh snapper, prawns or crabs which can be served grilled to your liking ( for those with a strong penchant for the piscean variety , it may also take some effort to steal your glance away from the fish glistening under the light of the lantern). We wandered around in the quiet streets for sometime,whiled time over coffee and headed off for dinner to the Koder House. The Koder House is the former residence of one of the city's most prominent Jewish families , now a heritage building and an all suite hotel. Menorah , the restaurant serves authentic Jewish, Syrian Christian and Kerala cuisine with a wonderful ambience to unwind. A thoroughly enjoyable dinner later (not to mention M's interesting conversations with the waiter after her glass of beer) ,we headed back to the homestay.

We checked out the next morning , left our bags at the homestay and decided to cover Jew town and the Dutch palace before heading back to Bangalore. Jew Town is situated in Mattancheri , a 10 minute auto rickshaw ride away. The oldest synagogue in India , built in 1568, is located here. Old , handpainted Chinese tiles decorate the entire synagogue which also has Hebrew inscriptions on the walls. The narrow alleyways around the synagogue are lined with shops selling artifacts and antiques, some owned by the handful of Jews who still stay there. Nearby is the Dutch palace , which was presented to the Cochin rajas by the Portugese. The highlight of the palace are the beautifully painted Hindu murals depicting the entire story of the Ramayana. We headed back to pick up our bags , and with an hour still in hand , decided to spend some time in the St Francis Church.It was empty and quiet inside ,except for gospel songs, being rehearsed by the church coir. The oldest European church in the country briefly held the remains of Vasco Da Gama before it was sent back to Portugal. We sat in silence as the gospel songs echoed in the centuries old church (I am tempted to add the church as well to the my list of soporific favorites save someone sue me for blasphemy). An hour later we headed off to the airport to catch our flight back to Bangalore. The holiday to the Queen of the Arabian sea was over – a tete-a-tete with eclectic culture, the lovely backwaters and plain good times with an old friend:).

*Others in the list include the tempo traveller single seat , the soft grassy, ground beneath a particular tree in Vaxholm and my sleeping bag in Ladakh.

The Himalayan Sojourn,after the Epilogue: High on the Khardung La

The world outside was a perfect monochrome – black and white. Inside the maxi cab , I sat beside the window pane drawing circles on the accumulating mist. The snow outside was getting thicker – inch by inch. The blizzard was getting dangerously stronger and showed no signs of receeding. The cigarette butt that one of the guys had thrown outside just minutes ago was invisible now , buried under a thick layer of snow. “A precursor of things to come?” - I thought to myself. The serpentine queue of vehicles, lined along the Khardung La stood immobile. The Innova standing right infront of us, started the ignition and in an attempt to move ahead, skid dangerously on the snow. We were stranded , on arguably the highest motorable pass of the world.

Our super adventurous trek during the first half of the Ladakh journey had an undesirable post effect- the road trip and mobile camping for the second half of the journey felt like a school picnic in comparison – notwithstanding the lovely landscapes we came across on the way to Pangong,Chumathang and Tso Moriri. Our final roadtrip destination was the Nubra valley. Lying between the Ladakh and the Karakoram ranges , Nubra is a cold desert and is also known as the gateway to the Siachen which lies to it's north. The only way to access Nubra from Leh is through the Khardung La. The road over the Khardung La is two lanes , no guardrails , a vertical precipice of snow below and interspersed with huge military convoys – quite unsurprising given the proximity to Siachen.

The journey from Leh to Nubra through the Khardung La was quite uneventful. Our initial plans to camp in the Nubra desert had to be ditched thanks to a sandstorm right after we arrived ( which I admit gave us cheap thrills , after the picnicky mobile camping days). We camped for the night in a village nearby , and left in the morning for Leh after stopping at the Diskit monastery on the way.As we passed through the military post at around 11 a.m just before Khardung La, the army hurried us across -“ It's snowing and we won't be letting any heavy vehicles across”. A couple of minutes of drive later , we stopped. The snow had blocked the way and all we could see was an unending queue of vehicles along the long and narrow winding road. To make matters worse , the blizzard continued unabated reducing visibility and making the road highly prone to skidding. We hoped the logjam would clear in sometime .What we didn't anticipate was an 11 hour stalemate in the snow blizzard , at 18380 feet .

By evening , we had inched around a kilometre ahead. The effects of high altitude were gradually showing up - staggering breath and headaches. Conversations had died down and everyone was back to the dead stupid game of Uno* .We were out of both water and food , something we hadn't stocked up on our way back since we were heading straight back to Leh. “ Let me make some tea ” - our driver Angchuk enthusiastically suggested. The porters jumped out , broke icicles hanging outside on the walls of snow , and dismantled the stove from the camping equipment stocked above. The driver's cabin miraculously turned into a kitchenette as he opened the seat compartment on the side to reveal well stocked up kitchenware and condiments. The hot tea was a miraculuous relief, albeit only for sometime.

As darkness fell , visibility levels were down to zero. Temperatures outside had dipped to sub zero and we could feel the biting cold make our toes numb.Govil suggested rubbing the toes constantly with our hands in order to keep them warm and avoid frostbite.An army truck distributing maggi and biscuits on the way stood like a messiah. We managed to get a little more than our rationed share thanks to a colonel from the Siachen regiment whom Avisek had befriended on the way. Angchuk steered the cab slowly through the blinding flakes of snow,carefully keeping distance from the vehicle right infront. We could see a car standing precariously on the edge of the road on the left .The driver had tried to speed ahead and had lost complete control. Angchuk and the other drivers got down , to try and push the car back on the road ( a ritual that all the drivers in this terrain abide by - to always stop by and help a stranded vehicle on the way , irrespective of the prevailing conditions).

The road ahead was now a complete blur. We could see the armymen on the road , walking through the blizzard trying to clear the snow. Inside Govil was making dinner for us - maggi atop the Khardung La. A young girl suffering from respiratory problems in one of the vehicles behind us was brought down by Angchuk, since ours was one of the very few vehicles that night with an oxygen cylinder inside. An army doctor was doing the rounds checking up on passengers inside .The prolonged stay at such high altitude was already taking it's toll on the stranded travellers .

At around 10 p.m , we could see a strong flashlight and the way clearing up infront. Angchuk started the ignition and drove forward. We cheered the armymen who gestured us to move ahead faster. Once we had descended , we dropped the young girl and her father who stayed back at an army post for their family in another vehicle behind to catch up. The pass had finally cleared up and the ordeal at the Khardung La was over. Ladakh had left it's final imprint on our memories for a lifetime.

*the only game the non functional human brain can fathom under the effects of high altitude.

Kudos to the Indian Army who got down to clear up the Khardung La ,and without whom it would have been impossible to get through the pass that night.


Photo credits to Abhinav

The Himalayan Sojourn,Chapter 4: The Last lap

"As far as I'm concerned, if someone eliminates the mental part of climbing, then we might as well all go play miniature golf." -  Greg Opland

The gravel was slipping beneath my foot , I scrambled on all fours to find a ledge against a rock. The steep ascent along the side of the mountain pass was loose gravel and rocks and finding a foothold was next to impossible. The only way was to climb rapidly over gravel and rest over the ledges of rocks. Two of the trekkers had taken to the sheet of snow which lay like a carpet through the mid of the ascent. I took a detour and tried the route – my foot immediately sank inside the deep layer of snow. I stood for a minute trying to choose between gravel and snow. “Just keep climbing this way”, Neeraj pointed at the others who were climbing through a trail on the gravel. “Okay! so gravel”, I decided and turned back to follow suit. Gravity was a killing drag. As we inched higher , the thinning air left us panting for breath with every other step.

A couple of hours later,all of us had arrived on the summit – 5200 m above sea level. All around were the snow clad peaks of the Zanskar and the Karakoram range. The wind was a violent roar and it had started snowing. “Don't wait here , we need to start the descent as soon as possible. The mules will not go any forward. Pick up your essentials from the backpacks and one sleeping bag each”. The horseman was retracing with all the camping equipment and two of the porters would also go back with him. The rest of us, with our guide Govil and cook Gombo, would move ahead till Shang Sumdo.

“Walk on your ankles, not your toe”-Govil instructed. The other side of the mountain pass was a thick sheet of snow descending rapidly. We tried to walk fast, digging our ankles, but kept sinking in the snow.The descending carpet of snow gave way to a narrow stream lined with boulders and rocks. “Keep walking fast!” chided Govil ,  “we have no way of getting through if it starts snowing heavily”. It was snowing lightly every now and then, and the wind sent a shiver down to the bones everytime I stopped.We split into groups of two - seven of us led by Gombo ,which quickly moved ahead. In case we did not make it to Shang Sumdo, we would still need to get to the nearest village before nightfall. The remaining five led by Govil decided to stay back for the others to catch up and then move.

What lay ahead was a long journey none of us had ever dreamt of.The mountains threw up a new terrain everytime - boulders interspersed with last remains of glacial ice , steep cliffs of gravel and narrow trails over gorges with the river flowing beneath , gradually draining the last bits of physical energy.

Darkness was setting in. We were walking along a narrow gorge which gradually descended into a trail.We could spot the meadows and the closest village – Chogdo.  Gombo and Deepak moved ahead - “we will try and get some hot maggi and water in the village , you guys can rest for sometime and follow us” .The five of us sat along the gorge resting for sometime. I swallowed flakes of snow in the air as I gasped for breath. “ Let's go , we cannot rest anymore, it has started snowing again” - we got up again and started the descent along the trail. We reached Chogdo, but Deepak and Gombo were nowhere to be seen. Neither was our second group of trekkers .We could only hope they would catch up , it was impossible to cross the terrain we had left behind in the dark.

 We walked up to a lone house located on a small hillock in search of the two , but they had not come there. I suddenly heard Govil's voice and turned around – the second group had arrived -“ Bring out your torches , we will continue till Shang Sumdo. Deepak and Gombo will be somewhere on the way”. The final lap to Shang Sumdo started - in the flickering light of our torches , the 10 of us queued up and trudged ahead along the gorge. We met the other two on the way ( Gombo was resting a little ahead , and Deepak had carried along. When we finally caught up with him , he was standing still in the pitch dark ,lighting a cigarette. As he told us later , every sound in the dark would remind him of all the snow leopard stories we had heard earlier during the trek:)).

The last trek to Shang Sumdo was a 2 hour journey , and by the time we reached the village , our bodies were numb from cold , hunger , thirst and pain. The entire trek was close to 36 km . Unfortunately the maxi cab which had come to pick us up had waited till evening and gone back to Leh , assuming we had retraced our way back to Chilling since all the other trekkers had done so. We dragged ourselves to the doors of a small monastery where the kind lama lent us a room to rest for the night. As we slipped into our sleeping bags ,I slumbered into my most peaceful night ever - the end of a Himalayan adventure in God's own abode.

Epilogue:

A word of gratitude as a small token of thanks for Govil and Gombo ,who tirelessly guided us , at times carrying all our sleeping bags to ensure we were not bogged down by weight. To me personally , they will always remain role models in courage , persevarance and patience.

Also a word of thanks for our porters whose astounding physical ability amazed me. They would start the trek after us , reach the campsite way before we did , work tirelessly to set up the camp , cook dinner and have tea ready for all of us by the time we reached.

On Himalayan trekking -

To be honest , the mountains beat you up black and blue:). Everytime you cross a terrain , there will be an entirely new one waiting to challenge you. But once you learn to push the limits , you will be amazed at the amount of pain the human body can endure.

Always respect the mountains , there is something so eternal and timeless about them that everything else seems insignificant.

Trek responsibly , please do not litter. It's disgusting to find plastic, bottles,wrappers etc lying around at campsites or on the way .It just takes a moment to collect the garbage and burn it away.

The Himalayan Sojourn,Chapter 3: The Journey

The Zanskar was raging below in full force,we stood on the cliff looking down. How on earth were we supposed to cross this? One of the porters quickly ran ahead, hauled himself in what looked like a rickety version of a cable car (a metal cart with a wooden sitting board ,suspended over a rope which connected the two banks), and slid ahead in full force.We gaped as he reached the other end and pushed the cart back.The other porter followed suit. "Get in groups of two with your daypacks. We will move all the backpacks once all of you are on the other end"- our guide Govil instructed. A moment of contemplation, a last look at the bellowing Zanskar and the 10 of us exchanged glances - let the adventure begin! We quickly got into groups of two, sat crouched facing each other and crossed over to the other side. Except for a broken wooden plank on the sitting board below and a momentary suspension over the Zanskar mid way (not too pleasant a moment I can say), the ride was smooth enough. In an hour's time, all of us had crossed over.

Once the horseman had arrived with the mules,the backpacks and camping equipment were loaded.The first day trek was a 5 km hike from Chilling to Skyu , a virtual stroll compared to what was in store for us in the days ahead. But even a slight ascent would leave me exhausted and completely out of breath.I was realising the demands of high altitude trekking and hoped the body would adapt , which it quickly did over the course of the trek. The short trek got over by late afternoon when we reached our camping site at Skyu (3300m).

Our second day was a 20 km trek from Skyu to Markha at 3780m.We followed the meandering Markha River through groves of apricot, willow and poplar,looking out for grazing blue sheep (blue sheep is a misnomer,this variety of sheep found in the Ladakh region actually has a brownish-gray coloring providing them with protective camouflage.They often stand motionless,can be extremely difficult to spot and , when alarmed will swiftly bolt to safety). We spotted herds of blue sheep twice on the way,grazing high on the mountain tops,met nomadic horsemen and passed through remote villages and ancient gompas. On the hilltops around us were remains of ancient forts and fluttering prayer flags. The sun started beating down harshly as the day progressed. It almost felt like walking through a wild west movie with the ochre coloured cliffs and high folded mountains towering high across us all around.Water was running out fast and some guzzled from the glacial streams on the way. In the days to come, the sedimented water in a variety of colours from the glacial streams became our only source of drinking water, a fact we learnt to ignore, and thankfully our body immunity systems caught up.The campsite was near the Markha village where the last satellite phone would be available for the rest of the journey.We gathered exhausted ,sipping cups of hot tea and learnt from Govil that all the trekkers had retraced their way back from the Nimaling base camp. The Kongmaru La pass (5200m) was still closed , and no one had crossed over. We decided to figure out the final course of action once we reached the Nimaling base camp.

Markha to Hankar (4000m) is a 12 km trek to the highest village in the Markha Valley and the last before the Nimaling plateau.The path runs through frozen river beds , and we often had to cross streams with freezing water barefoot. The relatively heavy wooded sections of the Markha valley are left behind and the path runs through grassy ridges , with steep ascents at times.The weather was playing spoilsport and we could see snowfall in the distance." The horseman might refuse to proceed with the mules if it snows heavily at Nimaling.Carrying all the backpacks can be a huge burden", said Govil. In the event of crossing the pass without the mules around, we decided to let the horseman retrace with our luggage and camping equipment.

Hankar to Nimaling basecamp (4700m) is another high point of the trek. The trek from Hankar simply goes up,up and up! As we ascended, the Kang Yatse (6400m) comes into view. The Nimaling plain is a broad undulating meadow which slopes upwards to the base of the ice-clad Kang Yatze .It offers some of the most stunning views, and enroute is a lake with a shimmering reflection of the Kang Yatze.The tiny rivulets flowing all over its meadows provide pasturage in the summer.The camping site was on the other end of a frozen river.

The overcast clouds had disappeared , "there is an alternative pass which is used during winter that we can cross" - Govil said."You would need to climb the same height, but we don't know what the way ahead after you cross the pass looks like". We would need to descend to Shang Sumdo by evening where our maxi cab would be waiting to pick us up to Leh.Retracing back from Nimaling base camp didn't seem like a good idea.Once we climb the pass and reach the summit, the descent ahead should not be a problem , we asssumed.

As it turned out later , the summit was less than a halfway point, and assumptions in Himalayan trekking don't work.

The Himalayan Sojourn,Chapter 2: An acquaintance with Leh

Our first two days were spent acclimatising in Leh. Initial acclimatisation* is critical before moving on to higher altitudes and normally takes 1-2 days. Drinking plenty of water helps, I religiously drank 4 litres of water (my highest ever average daily consumption) and earned the title of the "water lady" , much to the amusement of my fellow trekkers. The Leh itinerary was normal touristy stuff - Thiksey Monastery,the Shey Palace, the Sindhu Ghat on the banks of the Indus and a stroll in the Leh Market to pick up woolens or other essential trekking equipment.

There is something very mysterious and blissful that fills the confines of the monasteries of Ladakh. There is darkness, yet a lot of colour , faded frescoes and beautiful buddhas but also a bewildering variety of images. In front of the altar, there are butter lit lamps and usually small bowls containing water.Scrolls of silk hang from the roof. Long woodblock printed , loose leafed books with wooden covers are kept near the altar. Buddhist monks in their red robes silently walk by. A world almost untouched and eerie lies behind the walls.

The Leh Market is small but littered with shops which sell almost everything ( my fears of not being able to find batteries were pretty much unfounded). In case you need to stock up on essential items for the trek , you will be able to find everything - backpacks, downjackets,batteries, trekking shoes,medicines , trekking guides - albeit at a hefty price.The market is also a good hunting ground for street food - hot kebabs on skewers and a mouth watering variety of street snacks. A visit to the Amdo cafe is a must , a well known eatery serving Tibetan food. Amdo cafe turned out to be one of our favourite haunts for Tibetan food and the 10 of us would just land up there with a marathon of orders whenever we dropped by at Leh.

On the third day, we packed up our backpacks and headed out of Leh with our guide and porters. The plan was to visit Lamayuru monastery situated on the Srinagar-Kargil -Leh road during the day. Lamayuru is one of the oldest monasteries in Ladakh and the long winding road also passes through the confluence of the Indus and the Zanskar. We would head off to Chilling in the evening where we would camp for the night on the banks of the Zanskar. Next morning , our horseman with the mules would meet us on the other side of the river from where the trek would begin.

A punctured tyre just a few kilometers away from Chilling in the evening forced us to set camp at a hamlet nearby instead of the original camping site . As the sun set and the icy winds grew stronger, all of us gathered in our dining tent for our first camping dinner. During the entire course of the trek,an inadvertent pre and post trekking regime automatically fell into place- a wake up call at 6a.m in the morning before which most of us would be out of our sleeping bags (some even had unique warmup exercises to fight the biting cold), retiring after the trek to discussions over cups of hot tea and kawa ,details of which I have promised not to reveal ( what was said in Ladakh, stays in Ladakh;)) and continous games of Uno (the charm of which I absolutely failed to understand) , sometimes continuing well after dinner.

After dinner we strolled around for a while , trying to figure out constellations , but retired to our tents soon as the winds grew stronger. Our trek would finally begin the next day - five days of experiencing Ladakh , raw and unplugged.

Conversational footnotes:

Heard at a liquor shop in Leh where a couple of us stood shivering asking for some brandy:
"Brandy ka season to khatam ho gaya,woh to winter mein milta hai" (clearly someone has not heard about benchmarking)

From the neighbouring tent on the first day of camping:
"Can I turn inside my sleeping bag on the side?" ( No Mevil, I wont write about your more intriguing questions in order to protect my blog's sanity).

*Diamox is a very useful drug which helps in acclimatisation by making the blood thinner. Test for sulphur allergy before diamox intake. Also, the drug is only a preventive medicine , it cannot ensure altitude sickness will not hit.

The French Connection

The grumbling auto wala from the Pondicherry bus stand was in a constant peeve - "You could have taken a hotel closer to the bus stand" (or so we inferred from his otherwise incomprehensible Tamil). An almost sleepless (Surprise, surprise!) overnight bus journey from Bangalore brought us to Pondicherry. It was just the wee hours of morning and the town was still asleep under a blanket of very un-Indian tranquility. The auto took a sharp left turn on a street and stopped.“That's Du Parc” - the autowala pointed to a huge medieval door on the opposite end. As we knocked bleary eyed , the door opened to the villa which stood like a time trap - a courtyard lined with pastel coloured walls and large French windows. Du Parc was originally a French Villa built in the 17th century, now restored as a heritage hotel. The colonial rooms are styled beautifully, we were particularly thrilled with ours which had a split,duplex setting. After the initial excitement of running up and down the stairs inside the room (yes, the silly girlish streaks are unputdownable at times:)) , we chalked out a rough itinerary for the two days and plonked ourselves on the grand beds to catch up with sleep till breakfast.

Pondicherry is tiny - a queer mix of the French colonial heritage and the ubiquitous small Indian town. As far as colonial history goes , it has never occupied a predominant place in the discerning travellers' imagination the way other colonial cities in India have. Set up by the French in 1674, it was captured by the Dutch almost immediately , retaken by the founders and then sacked by the British. Also, unlike the more glamorous Goa , this coastal town on the Bay of Bengal has shied away from the glammed up crowd looking for a hip beach getaway. In Pondicherry, time unwinds at it's own pace like a leisurely amble on the wide brick streets by the sea or stands still at the old pastel coloured Catholic Churches.

We decided to visit Auroville and Aurobindo ashram on Saturday and spend the next day exploring the town on our own. Auroville is a universal township in making ,some 10 kms from Pondicherry. The utopian township was founded by the Mother, and is a means of implementing the teachings and vision of Sri Aurobindo. Visitors are only allowed till a viewing point where one gets to see the Matri Mandir or the meditation centre. For those interested in spiritual experiences of the very alternative kind , there are cafes galore which offer the best gastronomic fare ( including fresh sea food and the best pasta:)) or boutiques selling chic craft clothing , handcrafted leather and bohemian jewellery.

Our next stop was the Aurobindo Ashram where Sri Aurobindo and the Mother lived for most of their lives. At the centre of the Ashram, in a tree-shaded courtyard, lies the Samadhi, where their bodies are laid to rest. A slew of visitors were lined up for a visit to the Ashram as the Mother's birthday lay the very next day.
From the Ashram , we headed out towards the sea. The too-rocky-to-swim beach is smattered with tourists , a very incongrous statue of Gandhi ,stately old buildings , a boutique hotel - Promenade (a Hidesign hotel) and a 24 hours open cafe by the beachfront which turned out to be our favourite haunt during the Pondy stay. Endless conversations over coffee later , we decided to solve our “what-to-do-next conundrum” with shopping for shabby,chic street clothing and headed back to the hotel for a quiet dinner.

The next day we rented bicycles and decided to explore the quiet town on our own. Pondicherry is a vagabond's delight!You can wander through the streets aimlessly,relax at a shady corner along the neatly lined perpendicular streets or just breathe in the breeze along Goubert Avenue across the sea. The neighbourhood changes drastically near the sea - the 'white town' with it's colonies of ochre coloured walls, tile roofs ,wooden shutters,colonnades and balconies and streets with very Gallic names. Straight ahead from the beach,the surroundings gradually change back to a familiar,daily Indian town. The Rendezvous, a well known restaurant situated on the Rue Suffren (I tried to pronounce it the French way, from the remnants of a semester of French at university:)) serves the most amazing and fresh sea food.

Endless meanderings through the town, a stop by at an old church and cups of coffee later we returned to Du Parc in the evening and headed back to Bangalore at night. The weekend turned out to be everything a Pondicherry holiday had promised – leisure , amblings, conversations and the childhood pleasure of letting time just roll by.

Hotel Du Parc is a highly recommended place to stay in Pondicherry. Contrary to the autowala's grumblings , it is located only 10 minutes away from the bus stand. The villa is situated in the French quarters , close to the beach. The beautifully restored place and the hospitable staff make it an extremely memorable stay. Details of the hotel here:

http://www.hotelduparc.co.in/

A weekend called Wayanad

"Climbing at altitude is like hitting your head against a brick wall - it's great when you stop"-Chris Darwin

We had reached the peak ,2100 m above sea level and the highest point of Wayanad. A panorama of peaks and valleys of deep forests surrounded us, receeding gradually into the carpet of lush green plantations way below.The trek had started late, almost near noon. The sun was beating down upon as harshly as we started the climb. The ascent to Chembra peak is interspersed with flat stretches of lowlands till the heart shaped lake- a natural lake shaped in the form of a heart, believed never to have dried up (“Because love never dies”;) - as a fellow trekker smartly quipped). The hardest part of the ascent began after the lake, not only because it was steep,but because everytime we climbed and reached a peak we could see another one towering infront of us. The terrain was rocky, and the sun flashed directly at us, dehydrating us frequently.To make things worse, a frolicking bunch of Wayanad school kids crossed us on the way, reached the top and met us on their way back while we were still some distance away! The last frontier to the peak is near vertical rock formations. But once atop the peak, the view is simply captivating. Chembra stands imperiously gazing upon the Wayanad landscape...well..almost imperiously! In the backyard of Chembra,lies Vellarimala , taller than Chembra at 2240 m above sea level,but geographically in the Kozhikode district. Discounting for the slight heartbreak caused by the sight of a taller peak after a tedious trek , climbing Chembra is an exhilarating experience.

Wayanad lies on the southern top of the Deccan plateau lined by the Western ghats ,interspersed with dense forest and valleys. The region was known as Mayakshetra (Maya's land) in the earliest records. Mayakshetra evolved into Mayanad and finally to Wayanad. The Folk etymology of the word says it is a combination of Vayal (paddy) and Naad (land), making it 'The Land of Paddy Fields'.

An overnight journey from Bangalore through Bandipur forest brought us to Mepaddy where we were met by our guide, Santosh. We were a large group divided into two tempo travellers.The journey was pretty uneventful except for minor glitches: The music CDs I wrote failed to work . So while people hurled abuses at me , I blissfully went off to sleep in my cosy tempo traveller seat (a divine art I have mastered to near perfection).

Our weekend itinerary included a trek to Chembra and back on Saturday, a tour to Meenmutty falls and Edakkal caves (the only known caves with neolithic stone carvings in South India) on Sunday before heading back to Bangalore. The trek to Chembra was accomplished without any major disruptions this time (much to Santosh's relief , who had accompanied us before on our now infamous Kudremukh trek). As the temperatures dipped after sunset and the shadows of the Wayanad peaks loomed around,we gathered around a bonfire over dinner,drinks and a game of dumbcharade with some thought provoking performances.

Next morning ,we headed over to Meenmutty, albeit later than planned. The drive to the starting point of the waterfall is beautiful , through undulating roads with tea plantations on either side. A steep downward jungle trek begins some distance from this point ,mostly over loose pebbles and rocks. Meenmutty is the largest waterfall in Wayanad. The first sight of the waterfall is spectacular - a three tiered waterfall with a height of 300 metres in an unspoilt natural setting. We climbed our way back after spending sometime near the waterfall.

By the time we reached back , we realised it was too late to visit Edakkal and decided to head back straight to Bangalore instead. Our hopes of sighting some tuskers as we crossed Bandipur forest around sunset were dashed. A stop by at Mysore for dinner later , we reached Bangalore late night,back to the humdrum of our daily lives.

Footnotes:

1. My google search reveals interesting facts about the name – 'Meenmutty' which literally means fishes can come downstream but can not retrace their path back through this waterfall. Why would a fish ever want to retrace it's way back through ANY waterfall remains a semantic mystery to me!

2. The climb back in the heat from Meenmutty leads one straight to a small shop selling buttermilk strategically placed at the starting point of the trek. Two important tips for visitors (based on fellow travellers' experiences):

  - Do not gulp bottles of buttermilk like magic potion (even if you are dehydrated to the hilt or someone volunteers to pay)

 - Do not mix buttermilk with lemon soda ( you better believe this!)

3. Instances of dumbcharade inspiring lateral thinking among enthusiastic, first time trekkers:

a. "Pratighat" - Desperate climbing acts to express trekking on Western "ghats".Commendable lateral  thinking despite failure to communicate.

b. "Reshma ki Chadti Jawani" (yes,we are nasty people:P) - Highly random,adrenaline packed gestures including running around to express “race”(and hence Reshma). Sucessful communication by protagonist.

Into the ruins of a lost empire

“..Two brothers -Hindus of the Kuruba caste , who were men of strong religious feeling serving in the treasury of the king of Warangal fled from that place on its sack and destruction in 1323 and took service under the petty Rajah of Anegundi. The brothers rose to be the minister and the treasurer respectively at Anegundi. In 1334, the chief gave shelter to Baha ud din – the nephew of Muhammad of Delhi and was attacked by the Sultan. Anegundi fell , as narrated by Ibn Batuta and the sultan retired leaving Mallik as his deputy to rule the state. Mallik found the people too strong for him and eventually the Sultan restored the country to the Hindus, raising to be rajah and minister respectively the two brothers -Harihara I and Bukka, who founded the great city of Vijayanagar in 1335.*”

And thus starts the story of Hampi – the capital of the grand Vijayanagar empire. Situated among giant boulder strewn hills and criss crossed by the Tungabhadra, the ruins of Hampi today stand as the last testimony to the architecture, history and religion of the great Vijayanagar empire.Another set of folklore associate Hampi with the Ramayana – Kishkinda is potrayed as the region around Hampi. It is here that Ram and Lakshman meet Hanuman in their search for the lost Sita.

A trip to Hampi was recommended by many when I moved to Bangalore. A long weekend on the Gandhi Jayanti and quick planning with 'travelaholic' friends from Mumbai -Rathi and Vinay (who also got my new Canon DSLR..yippee!) was the perfect set up for a journey to Hampi. We started off early Friday morning. The scheduled 8 hour journey by road from Bangalore, however,extended to a painful 10 hours drive thanks to the rains which wrecked havoc and the dismal state of the NH 13 (so much for the tourism infrastructure for a UNESCO world heritage site).

Day1: Vijayanagar architecure- Tungabhadra- Hampi bazaar- food!

Hampi presents a bizarre but brilliant combination of the rocky , peninsular landscape interspersed with man made architecture. We started with the Saraswati temple dedicated to the Goddess Saraswati. The temple is mostly in ruins but the terracota made stucco figures can still be seen. Behind the Saraswati temple, the road leads to the Octagonal Bath – a gigantic bathing area shaped as an octagon. Our next stop was the Virupakhsa temple located in the Hampi bazaar. Dedicated to Lord Shiva , this temple is a crash course in typical Vijayanagar architecture.
For most of the temples , Vijayanagar architecuture  is apparently similar to the Cholas  for making its towers. The top portion of the tower is made of brick and mortar , the outside of which is packed with terracota images. Usually , a large open hall stands between the tower and the main shrine. Another typical feature of Vijayanagar architecture is the use of Yalis – giant mythical creatures carved on pillars situated around the porch in these open halls.

Behind the Virupaksha temple , flows the Tungabhadra – coloured as red as the laterite soil all over in Hampi. The monsoon lends this river an intimidating fury and force as it rages through the gorge. Southwards from the temple , the path leads to the Hemkut hills scattered with Jain temples and an incredible canvas of rock structures. My personal favourite was the double storeyed temple – a Greek acropolis like double storeyed structure on the rocks. Hemkut hills also provides a panoramic view of Hampi – a perfect place to get sunset shots. As you climb down from the Hemkut hills, you can walk down to see monolithic statues of Lord Ganesha ( Sasvikalu and Dodda Ganesha) and the Ugra Narasimha located a little ahead. Another must see site is the Krishna temple built by Krishnadevaraya to celebrate the conquest of Udaygiri ( present day Orissa).

Our next  important agenda of the day was discovering food in Hampi. Most of the eateries are located around the Hampi Bazaar dotted with shops selling clothes, artefacts and antiques. It is interesting to observe the standardisation of the flea market – from Janpath and Sarojini nagar in New Delhi to Hampi Bazaar and Jew town in Kochi, flea market products (be it the colour,the fabric or the style and cuts of the clothes) are now pretty much uniform. A must go eating place is the Mango tree restaurant located on the banks of the Tungabhadra with terraced floor seating facing the river. A giant mango tree stands right in the middle of the restaurant. A great place to relax and chill out with sumptous food – from traditional Thalis to assorted dishes. Another favourite was the Shanthi restaurant – just a small walk away from Virupaksha. An exotic menu serves everything from Israeli to Italian food , a predictable hit with the foreign tourists who flock here everyday.

Day 2: Vittala -Achyuta Raya –attack of the Xenophobic Hampi Buffalo – last glimpses of Hampi

The Vittala temple, dedicated to Lord Vishnu is one of the most sprawling temple complexes in Hampi with the iconic stone chariot inside it. The temple built in the 15th century has been enhanced by many kings in successive regimes. Around the temple complex, are the remains of a township called Vittalapura. From the Vittala temple , one can walk to the Achyuta raya temple. The road is interspersed with ruins and runs across the Tungabhadra. Like the Virupaksha , the Achyuta Raya temple also has a bazaar leading to the doorstep of the temple. This street known as the Courtesan's street was once a flourishing centre of trade. From here, a trekking trail leads through the Matunga hill to the Hampi bazaar , and it was here that occured the “landmark” event of the trip.

As we made our way through the boulders , a herd of seemingly harmless buffalo passed by. Vinay decided to crack a joke on the red cap I was wearing which he said would enrage the buffaloes. Very prophetic! A split second later , one of the buffaloes suddenly came charging , but surprisingly at Rathi ( who by the way was wearing a yellow cap, colour blind buffalo maybe!). The brave woman made a kung fu style gesture faced with the buffalo's horns few cms away, I , in my attempt to pass by fell in the bushes on the side , while chivalrous Vinay kept watching on the side (our ex post analysis since he could not provide any feasible explanation to what he was doing at that exact moment). Colour blind-aka-xenophobic buffalo however , simply walked by lazily, after having achieved the desired impact – three stunned travellers , a moderately bruised one (i.e me) and a Nokia phone with a splintered screen ( I now need to check with Nokia if their warranty covers buffalo attacks).

We trekked back to Hampi Bazaar trying to recover from the hilarious incident and keeping our distance away from suspicious looking cattle (including goats). We decided to spend the afternoon at the Mango tree , gorging on food and reading up on Hampi. Post lunch we headed to the Queen's bath and the Zenana enclosure- a blend of Indo Islamic architecture built when the sultanates of the Deccan managed to percolate down south and squashed the Vijaynagar regime thus ending the grand empire.Sunset was spent at the Hemkut hills , where we managed to get some shots of the double storeyed temple . As darkness fell ,we walked back to Hampi bazaar, had a quick dinner and headed back to the hotel.

Early next morning we drove back to Bangalore to resume the humdrum of our daily lives.The ruins of the ancient metropolis lay behind ,where time it seems...has forgotten to move on.

* Excerpt from the book 'A Forgotten Empire (Vijayanagar) - Robert Sewell'

Cairo Diary

[This is actually an old post written during my Cairo visit in February as a note on fb, I did not have this blog then. Just thought it would be a good idea to have all the travel notes on the blog.]

28th February,2009

I thought I would write down a diary on my Cairo visit since I had nothing better to do sitting in my hotel room on a rainy Saturday afternoon. The Cairo trip was on the cards since December ever since our client in Cairo wanted us to come down on a project but kept postponing till February end when he finally told me “we are ready for you now”(err???) . So I got my visa and tickets done and flew down to Cairo (the only sad part -I miss my flatmate’s most awaited big fat wedding in Delhi which is today).

My initial itinerary was to cover the pyramids and as much as I could of Cairo on the weekend since I was flying to Dubai the week after. But I would now probably be in Cairo longer , which means I can even hopefully try and plug in Alexandria/Luxor as well.For the trip to the pyramids I decided to use the hotel concierge services, something I normally do not do when I am traveling since I prefer working out the logistics myself using the public transportation system as it lends a lot of flexibility and I normally avoid guides. But a language barrier (now I regret not being more diligent about learning Arabic as a kid) and the fact that the pyramids were away from the city made it a good idea to use the hotel services for transportation.

My first halt was at Saqqara, the site for Egypt’s oldest pyramids, which lies south of Cairo. The most famous feature here is the Step pyramid for King Djoser which was overseen by his architect Imhotep. A lot of the site is still under excavation. Although Egyptians are, genuinely very friendly and hospitable people, it helps to be a be a tad careful of the friendly smiles in these tourist spots which may be mostly motivated by prospects of money (almost in the same way that foreign tourists are fleeced in India). Near Saqqara,, there are also a lot of carpet weaving schools which teach the children staying in the villages to weave Egyptian wool and silk carpets. It makes for an interesting visit and the carpets woven are truly beautiful although very very expensive. The proprietor tried hard to convince me to buy one (with a 30% discount especially for special Indian “friends”) , unfortunately without any success.After the carpet weaving school , I noticed my guide would non chalantly drop every now and then into a series of shops selling papyrus paintings , Egyptian essences , Egyptian cotton on the way. Sadly for him, I was an Indian , and no amount of convincing would help (although I did buy a papyrus painting for my parents, one of the few things which I thought was worth a purchase:)).

My guide and I also had several intellectually stimulating conversations on the way to Giza:
Conversation Sample 1 (note high level of deductive reasoning):
Guide:” You know why India and Egypt are friends…you know?”
Me: “ Umm..no well.. why?”
Guide: “Because Egypt has camels and India has elephants. Camel and elephant – friends ,so Egypt and India – friends”
Me: “I see “

Conversation Sample 2 (note high level of cultural awareness and guide’s never ending curiosity for elephants):
Guide: "Are elephants expensive in India?"
Me: "Not sure, I have never bought one."
Guide: "But will they be more expensive than camels?"
Me: "Yea, maybe"
Guide: "So elephants are roaming around on the roads?"
Me: "Yea , part of the traffic problem is because of them."

Giza is magnificent , especially when you are driving down the roads with the pyramids on the sides. I was not awed in the same way as I remember when I had first seen the Taj , but there is something about the fact of so much history being buried all around in the sands that makes it very thrilling. I would love to go to Giza after sundown, maybe I will catch the light and sound show if I am here longer. The sphinx on the other hand is disappointing , much less magnificent than what I imagined.

Today I decided to see old Cairo. Cairo is a chaotic city , especially the traffic. There are also areas of downtown Cairo which reminded me of North Calcutta:). Old Cairo is well…very very old! It has some of the oldest mosques, churches and also a very old Jewish synagogue. If you want to see old Cairo, take along someone who knows about the history of the area. I managed to get a very interesting guide , a bright, young lady named Maie , who is an Egyptologist currently doing her Phd at the Cairo university. Thanks to Maie, I would rate my Old Cairo visit one of my most interesting tours.

If you are interested in history/architecture/religion/symobology, do make a trip to this area. The hitch here is you cannot shoot much since photography is not allowed inside most of the oldest buildings in the interest of preservation. The area is a hotpot of culture and religion - Ottoman mosques built around 1400 A.D, Coptic Churches , ruins of Roman fortifications and one of the oldest synagogues. Coptic Cairo was the stronghold of Christianity in Egypt till the Islamic era. A must visit here is Abu Serga – the church built on the spot where Mary and Jesus were hiding from the Romans, the hanging Church and the Coptic museum – relatively lesser known compared to the more famous Egyptian museum but worth a visit. You can also stop by for breakfast at one of the street shops selling falafel:).
My trip to old Cairo in the morning made me realize I need a refresher in Egyptian history. So I ditched my intial plans of going to the Egyptian museum to see King Tut’s antiquities and got down to read up on Egyptian history instead. So my rest of the day will be spent reading Egyptian history (any references on the net would be very helpful:)) , and a walk down the Nile in front of the hotel around sunset. Maybe I will get some good shots unless it stays as cloudy!

Backwaters brief

I was just two weeks into Bangalore with a huge to do list as I was trying to settle down into my new flat when a colleague of mine informed me about the photography club in office and an imminent weekend trip to watch the snake boat race at Alleppey in Kerala. “Would you be interested?” , “of course”- pat came the reply, putting flat in order can wait:D!!. A few email exchanges and a short break out session later the itinerary was fixed. We left Friday evening for Alleppey in a tempo traveller with especially inadequate leg space (the only close proxy I could think of are DTDC buses plying between Sarai Kale Khan,Delhi and Bharatpur). A mostly sleepless night (interspersed with a Munnabhai show and attempts to watch a Tam movie) later, we reached Alleppey at around 8 a.m in the morning and headed towards the Punnamada boat jetty. A boat from the resort where we had booked ourselves picked us up from the jetty. As we made our way to the resort through the water channel, I got my first glimpses of the incredibly beautiful backwaters.

A short boat trip later, we got off on a small island where a giant thatched hut like structure greeted us. The resort was a collection of bamboo cottages connected by an overhead walkway with an unrestricted view of the seemingly endless water and ricefields. The bamboo structure and the big open spaces blend seamlessly with the environment outside lending a natural aura to it (more inside info on the resort later;).

We quickly freshened up , had breakfast and headed out for the boat race with a couple of other photographers (part of a workshop in progress at the resort , some of whom had camera equipment we kept leching at throughout). Although the race started late in the afternoon , we arrived early to get our preferred slot. Gradually, people started trickling in. The colours, sounds and sights of an entire town out to watch the boat race was quite enthralling. A long wait later , the race started. It was exciting to see the boats battle against each other to photo finish while the rowers rowed in complete harmony. The race also had its share of overenthusiastic and slightly inebriated cheerleaders who entertained the crowds with their antics in the water. Unfortunately for them , they also had to face the baton with the Kerala police on the prowl . The cop boat also had a mascot somewhat resembling a Zebra which kept waving to the crowds as the boat panned the stretch of the race picking up rowdy cheerleaders;).

As the entertaining and fun filled race got over , we headed back to our resort around sunset. Evening was spent on the open terrace in the resort over drinks and discussing plans for forthcoming trips.We decided to spend the first half of the next day doing a tour of the nearby villages followed by a quick trip to Kochi before we headed back to Bangalore.

Next morning, we checked out of the resort after breakfast and started on our tour of the backwaters. For those of you who still have not been to the backwaters, just GO!!:) It’s absolute bliss just sitting on the roof of the boat with the vast expanse of water and lush greenery all around.In case you love to eat anything with fins or which swims, there are options galore. Stop by one of the local shops on the banks to savour some of the local fish served with tapioca (you may end up overpaying though as a tourist:)).
After the tour , we came back to the Punnamada boat jetty and headed towards Kochi. An hour and a half later we arrived in Kochi just in time for lunch. We stopped at the Grand hotel for a taste of Kerala cuisine. And some lunch we had!! We ended up spending 2 hours over a huge gorgeous spread of squids, prawns, fish – you name it and we ate it:)! Post lunch, we decided to do a quick tour of the Jew town and then to the beach to click the Chinese fishing nets at sunset. The clouds played spoilsport , we did get some shots nevertheless. As the sun set on the Arabian sea, we headed back to Bangalore.

A brief stint with the backwaters, a fun filled and colourful boat race smattered with some sumptuous food in truly God’s own country – thats what I call a weekend well spent!

[Inside info on the resort (Bamboostix): Very backpacker styled (except for the price;) with bunker beds and rooms right on the waterfront. Carry your own towels and toiletries ( in case you want a smoke or a drink , carry them as well since there is nothing that you get here). All in all – great location , bad food , overpriced for the entire proposition]