Traveler, unabridged.

Elláda (Greece) Ahoy!

2010-05-28T20:04:00.000+05:30

SO I've been meaning to blog about this for the longest time but never ended up making time for it until now.

Highlight of the year: three friends on an incredible journey through Greece (followed by the trademark solo travel to the Czech Republic) to be documented on this blog, so that when I'm 80 years old and have Alzheimer's, I can come back and remember the fun times I had in my twenties with childhood buddies. Of course, fat chance I'm going to remember the blog address but I have other means of doing so (got any tattoo artist recommendations, anyone?) ;)

We've been planning this for at least three months now, over numerous Skype calls, phone calls, chats and whatever else it took. Several bickerings later, most of them friendly ones of course, we came to a consensus on which country to visit (options were Belgium, Turkey, Greece, Italy and the other two can fill in the blanks here in case I'm missing any).

Touchwood all the preparations went ahead as planned, and we were all set to fly out the early morning of 29 May 2010 from India to Athens on Turkish Airlines via Bahrain, and one of us from the US of A on the evening of 28 May 2010.

Turk Hava Yollari to us!!!

(Whatever that means)

Stay tuned for our adventures!

PS - It's actually September while I write this, but to keep in tune with the actual dates, will alter the time to 'real time'.

Day 18: Home Sweet Home!

2009-04-14T20:34:00.007+05:30

I've been fortunate to have had many opportunities to travel the world and lived these experiences to the fullest - the sights, sounds and smells in tow. Whether it was gazing with amazement at the elephants having a bath in Kandy or watching the the vivid colours of underwater life while snorkeling off the Phi Phi islands, losing it in Vegas (what happens there, stays there ;)), experiencing the worst blackout of the century in New York City from the 25th storey of Four, Times Square, taking a long hard look at Hong Kong come alive from the Victoria Peak after dark, getting the midnight shopping experience at the Mustafa Center in Singapore or letting the raindrops fall endlessly on my face in Periyar included, and many, many more, in addition to the last 18 fun filled days which left me with some equally beautiful memories - but I'll tell ya - there is nothing ever so sweet, so pleasant, so blissful and calming, as coming home again. So until the next time I take a trip worth blogging about...

PEACE,
me

Day 17: Oxford Circus and Cheerio, London!

2009-04-13T14:13:00.002+05:30

Today was reserved for shopping only. After a nice lunch at Nando's it was time to hit the stores in the Oxford Street area. Didn't quite shop till I dropped but did pick up some souvenirs, a Man-U and Arsenal t-shirt from Niketown each for friends who are die hard fans of the two teams, respectively, and back in Hounslow, a whole lot of chocolates (in keeping with the tradition of my workplace) from a local shopping center. Walked around the place for a bit before heading back to finish up with the last minute packing. Showered, changed and was all set for the homeward journey. This trip wouldn't have been half as fun if not for the company of a very dear friend, to whom I am eternally grateful for having made my last three days in London a memorable experience, to say the very least, as an ode to whom, I quote an old Irish blessing:

May the road rise up to meet you,
may the wind be ever at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face
And the rain fall softly on your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.

Day 16: Royal Naval College, Greenwich Observatory

2009-04-12T23:11:00.010+05:30

My aunt made me a simple but yummy breakfast consisting of toast and two fried eggs (sunny side up). I missed mentioning beforehand that I don't eat egg yolk and was strictly reprimanded in her signature matronly style for wasting "two precious egg yolk" followed by a hug and a large mug of tea. Spoke to her daughter (another of my aunts) in Spain who had called for Easter for a bit as the neighbour's cat trailed in - what an absolute beauty - but shedded like rain in Cherrapunji. Looked like she needed a little lovin' so promptly plonked herself on my lap after one little neck rub, purring away and refusing to budge until I had given her a good massage all over. By then my uncle stopped by again to drop me off at the Gatwick Airport station from where I could take the National Rail back towards London, to head to Greenwich, which was first on the day's agenda. Fully covered in cat hair.

After a lot of travel time including a few interchanges between the National Rail, the Tube and the DLR, I caught up with a friend and had the worst Chinese lunch ever (never thought anyone could go wrong with Chinese food, but I guess I have a lot to learn!) before heading to the Old Naval College to admire its architecture and the magnificent Painted Hall. From here, went out to the Greenwich Royal Observatory which had unfortunately just about shut (around 4 pm) by the time we got there but saw it from the outside none the less and stood on a piddly portion of the Prime Meridian for a photograph. The gardens surrounding the Observatory were very pretty with sprays of brightly coloured flowers in full bloom and I was the quintessential snap happy tourist.

Walked around the area a bit more and ran into a smallish flea market where I picked up a beautiful antique fish shaped ash tray from the World War II era for a friend who is an avid collector of all things smoke (ash trays, lighters, matchboxes...) and headed homeward, which took us over an hour. Later in the evening, my friend and his friends took me out to a nice Indian dinner - quite a pleasant bunch - after which I had to get my bearings together and pack to leave for India tomorrow after over two weeks away - which made today my last 24 hours in London during this trip.

Day 15: Easter with family

2009-04-11T23:52:00.006+05:30

I had returned to London rather late the previous evening so was in a deep slumber when I woke up to a phonecall from an aunt who was expecting me for the weekend starting with lunch today, and it was already close to afternoon! So I quickly got my act together, grabbed a quick coffee and croissants with a friend and headed out to West Sussex to see her and spend a quiet Easter weekend with my aunts, uncles and cousins.

Reached my destination well past lunchtime (around 3 pm!) so she had already finished with hers. This aunt deserves a special mention because she's one of those gems who have fitted in seamlessly with the quirks and fluctuating temperaments of a nutty Indian family - mine - despite being a true blue Brit. She lost her husband (my great-uncle) after over 50 years of marriage in 2006 and I think she deserves to be knighted just for the sole reason that she managed to spend over five decades with a headstrong and incorrigible man. I was seeing her for the first time after my great uncle's passing away, and it was a very emotional reunion. Simply because our family has had a special bonding and been very close knit over the years. She sat me down and told me stories of the past, reminiscing about life in Bombay (where she lived as a new bride, for close to a decade, before moving back to the U.K.) and how she had been accepted so beautifully in the family and received more Love and affection than she could ever have hoped for.

Shortly her sons (technically my grand uncles!) trailed in with their children and we all pounced on the food which she had single handedly cooked - an array of Indian vegetables and curries, rice and breads. Once everyone had left one of my uncles returned after dropping his wife and three boys back home, made us some tea and the three of us sat up late into the night, catching up on all the lost time. It was an evening and Easter eve well spent among loved ones.

Adieu, Paris!

2009-04-10T23:30:00.009+05:30

I left the restaurant with a heavy heart (and not to mention, a very heavy tummy too) and since the thought of leaving Paris was making me sad, I felt I should take one last stroll across Shazayleezay before heading back in time to fetch my luggage from the hotel and catch my Eurostar back to London. I was in Love with the city, and there was no denying that. On that soulful note, I leave you with the last few images of Paris...

Arc de Triomphe, with the Eiffel Tower in the background.

Fleuriste on Champs-Élysées

Hustle and bustle at the Gare du Nord railway station.
* * *

Who can say if your Love grows
As your Heart chose? Only Time...
And who can say where the road goes
Where the day flows? Only Time...
Who knows...? Only Time...
~Enya, "Only Time"

Restaurant Guy Savoy: a delightful gastronomic experience of sorts

2009-04-10T22:03:00.009+05:30

I had reserved a table for one, for lunch, a good 3 to 4 weeks ahead of time at this very swanky restaurant just off the Champs-Élysées on the other side of the Arc de Triomphe. The lunch experience frankly, would be better described as a Mardi Gras of food, since it was nothing short of a carnival! Before I get on to the food, I'd like to spend a minute describing the very chic interiors and ambience of the restaurant. The theme is a warm dark chocolate brown, with the area divided into sections. Each section houses four round tables that can each seat up to four pax. Lighting was very subdued and random sculptures and paintings adorned the walls (none worth writing home about, but generally the décor was simple). So enough about that, and over to the food:

First course was appetizers or the French version of Antipasti / Hors d'œuvres, both hot and cold (Froides et Chaudes). Started with a tiny tartlet, no wider than 2 cm, with some unidentifiable but yummy toppings (for the record, I had given them advance notice of my being a vegetarian, which they graciously took into consideration and added an additional course to the meal). Just as I was beginning to think, "hell, is this it...?" on came the next, and the next, and the next, and the next...

I don't really know what this was, but it was a warm, creamy soup-like preparation where you had to dunk in the seasoning into the soup with your forefinger. Couldn't pin point all the ingredients but asparagus and cream were definitely there. Slurp.

Once I finished the soupy thingy above, I just had to lift up the chinaware and behold, there was something underneath, akin to a mini-roll of some sort with vegetable stuffing garnished with pieces of rocket leaves (thankfully only two small pieces).

Next, the enormous bread basket...

...with two types of butter, salted yellow and neutral white.

Even the salt and pepper were served in these exquisite, hand made, glass containers.

Main course #1: Tout Petit Pois (A Myriad of young peas)
In a white dish, a jelly of raw peas topped with a slightly creamed pea purée, soft poached egg and a salad of peas and curly watercress with chive oil. As decoration, purple shiso leaves with cumin flavour. Slice of toasted round loaf on the side (not pictured here).

Followed by soup: Soupe d'artichaut à la truffe noire (Artichoke and black truffle soup, with slices of black truffle and Parmesan cheese shavings).

...served with brioche feuilletée aux champignons et truffes (layered brioche with mushrooms, spread with truffle butter) on the side. Nothing like I have ever tasted before; supremely delicious.

Main course #2: Ragoût d'asperges et navets poêlés à cru (or for the French challenged, moi included, a mixture of different varieties of raw asparagus served in a salad and cooked asparagus served warm with crisp fried turnips, thinly diced pink radish and sliced bear's garlic with grated, aged, Mimolette cheese)

That was it as far as the food was concerned. But if you want to burp, think again, because the dessert was yet to come!!! So, my friends, on to dessert. I am tired just thinking of the variety of desserts they served that afternoon. Oh my goodness, it was like a parade, literally. One. After. Another. They just kept coming.

Dessert #1: Coco (Tapioca cooked in coconut milk, accompanied by coconut shavings and a coconut water sorbet)

Dessert #2: Textures de fraises (Strawberry textures; in a carpaccio bowl, a strawberry and lemongrass jam, chopped Gariguette strawberries, a strawberry granité, strawberry crunch with strawberry juice).

Dessert #3: Millefeuille "minute" à la gousse de vanille (Three thin layers of flaky pastry with light cream with a Tahiti vanilla pod in between)

Dessert #4: Fondant chocolat au pralin feuilleté et crème chicorée (Soft chocolate cake and crisp praline with chicory cream) and yeah, it IS half eaten by yours truly.

Dessert #5: Noir (Chocolate biscuit made with marzipan marinated in lime juice, chocolate ganache flavoured with cardamom and black pepper)

Dessert #6: Apple tart

And then the BIG DADDY of them all: An exclusive Dessert Chariot consisting of desserts #7 to #1045. Included various flavours of icecream, rice pudding, caramel cream, prunes in wine and spices, chocolate mousse, 'diamond' shortcake, chocolate and vanilla macaroons, a barrage of marshmallows in different colours and flavours, sorbets, cheesecake, pies, wafers, chocolate sweets, dried fruit, almond cookies, strawberry shortcake and last but not the least, self inscribed dark chocolate. WHEW (*wipes sweat off brow*).

I ate until I could eat no more, and before I could collapse, made them get me some coffee. Brilliant finish to a sumptuous meal.

While the experience set me back €150 (€100 for the meal, rest for the Evian, coffee, taxes and gratuity) I think it was the most phenomenal lunch I have ever had. Finally, the maître d', Hubert, a German, brought me my own personal printed menu for keeps and also kindly offered a discount to all my colleagues who would drop in for a meal!

Day 14: Parisian leftovers

2009-04-10T21:33:00.004+05:30

Today was my last day in Paris but it hadn't quite sunk in yet. After a completely relaxing soak in the tub after last night's shindig followed by a night of beauty sleep, I woke up totally refreshed. Didn't have any breakfast today, because I had made some interesting lunch plans (which I will dwell a lot upon, in a later post).

Started off early. Had to finish up with a few pockets of the city I had left unseen. So took the Metro RER again and landed up on Rue Mouffetard to get a taste of one of the nicest open air markets in Paris. Just as I was beginning to feel hungry, my olfactory senses caught the aroma of something magical. So I followed the lead and landed up at a street side bakery. Oh, the amazing variety of croissants and breads they had, and all baked in-house!!! Picked up a warm, freshly baked pretzel-shaped croissant with a sprinkling of Castor sugar on it which the pretty blonde vendor wrapped up in butter paper for me so I could eat while I continued strolling onward. The splendid taste of that-which-melted-in-my-mouth still lingers on to this day (being many, many days later, as I write this post). It was huge, so I thought I'd get some hot coffee on this cold (but sunny) day and stepped into Starbucks to grab a grandé Café au Lait. With superb French coffee and a delightful French croissant, I pulled up a chair set out on the pavement outside the Starbucks and had one of the most enjoyable light breakfasts, ever. On one side was the end of Rue Mouffetard, with ornately painted building exteriors, on the other was a main junction, abuzz with people, vehicles and activity, and on the third side was a quiet little street full of residential apartments. It was an amusing confluence of three streets so completely far removed from each other in character.

Once I finished up my coffee + croissant, I brushed off the sugar crystals from my clothes, the klutz that I am, and walked on. I may have missed mentioning this previously, but the French didn't leave me disappointed with their direction sense. Each time I'd ask, I get the most perfect directions (albeit in French, with a lot of sign language dunked in) and manage to find my way around quite easily. Similarly today, I made my way to the Panthéon after figuring out all the shortcuts, thanks to the locals.

The Panthéon is an architectural marvel, located in the Latin Quarter of Paris (5th Arrondisement) one of the most lively areas in Paris, also home to a number of educational institutions including the prestigious Université Paris Panthéon-Sorbonne. While it was originally built as a church, it is now a burial place for some very famous people (Madame Marie Curie, whose institute of medical sciences I had passed by in one of the by-lanes surrounding the Panthéon, philosophers Voltaire and Rousseau, and writer Alexandre Dumas of the Count of Monté Cristo fame, to name a few). Across from the Panthéon is the Mairie du Ve Arrondisement, the town hall / cultural center, bearing a typical Graeco-Latin style façade with four large columns. After this, I continued to potter around the area, soaking in the most I could in my last few hours in Paris, visiting the Sorbonne, the Paris Opéra (Opéra national de Paris) and inevitably, the Galeries Lafayette which I had so beautifully avoided entering, the last time around, before returning to my hotel to pack up and check out.

Next on the cards was the grand finalé of the trip: a dining experience of a lifetime.

Day 13: Orsay, Notre Dame, Canal St. Martin, La Défense

2009-04-09T22:05:00.000+05:30

My first destination for today was the Musée d'Orsay. While not as imposingly large in size as the Louvre, it proved to be quite the treat for the art lover in me. After waiting in a queue that was a fraction of the length from the previous day, I managed to get in.

The interiors appeared to be rather different from any museum that I had previously seen. It was only later that I got to know that Orsay was built inside a former railway station (which is probably why there still happens to be a train station in its basement to date). It had quite an impressive collection of original impressionist (Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir) and post-impressionist (Vincent van Gogh, Paul Cézanne) art among other things like sculptures, stained glass and furniture. I picked up a whole bunch of art prints there, including Vincent's Starry Night, Monet's Japanese Garden and what have you. While I may have gone quasi-crazy at the Louvre, the Orsay drove me totally insane. I left the place feeling just a wee bit more partial to it than the Louvre. Once out of the Musee, I walked out onto the bridge across the Seine river sparkling in the afternoon Sun and strolled aimlessly, along the direction of the river and randomly hopped on to a bus that ended up at the Notre Dame Cathédrale.

While the expressions of all the gargoyles carved in stone on the exterior of the Cathedral were just incredible (which I didn't notice a single repetition of) I somehow thought that the Notre Dame in Rouen was far more serene and mesmerising in comparison. Probably due to the lack of crowds in a smaller town (which simply take the sanctity away). But this one had its own charm nonetheless and the stained glass was breathtaking, so no complaints, all-in-all. After 'the Hunchback of Notre Dame' I had really pictured this place to have some kind of an eerie, sinister feel about it, but instead got quite a good vibe! And you know the best part? I may have not visited so many temples in such a short span, as the number of Cathedrals I realised I had seen over these past few days. But either way, I'm happy to give a download to whichever God's listening, so no qualms there. From there on, I walked out through the streets lined with souvenir shops and icecream, got me a Häagen-Dazs and continued walking. Slipped into another Body Shop outlet and shopped like a maniac (I'm a sucker for fragrant things, I tell ya!) but in my defense, everything I bought there was to give as gifts. I especially love one of their men's fragrances, Arber, which is quite earthy.

And then I walked some more. Through the Marais district in spanning the third and fourth Arrondisements. Quite a treat for the eyes, that place. Not just for the impeccable window arrangements in the stores in the shopping area, but for the gorgeous architecture and people alike. If I could tweak Alanis a bit, I'll say I'd have found a prized catch (or two) while walking through Marais that afternoon, but all of them had their beautiful boyfriends with them, too. Sigh. But God wasn't entirely unkind, and I got to run my fingers over a sparkling new BMW K1300S parked on one of the pavements and what an incredible high that gave me - now if only I could have had a ride. Unfortunately I don't have any evidence because all the pictures I had taken earlier in the day at the Orsay, the Notre Dame and blahblah caused my camera battery to die. Some memories are best left exactly there. In your memory, i.e...

After a quick siesta back at the hotel room, I set out yet again, this time following a recommendation in a local London paper that my friend had preserved for me - to Canal St. Martin in Paris' 10th Arrondisement. Passed the Gare du Nord on my way and just walked. I think I entered the area on the wrong (and very filthy) side but it transitioned into quite a pleasant walk for the next some 5 kilometers. Very pretty stores lined both sides of the street, selling everything from books to home décor and clothing. I made a collage of some of the pictures I took while walking across the Canal, which in hindsight was actually quite a restful stroll. Next, I caught a Metro train and got off at the last station, which turned out to be La Défense.

The towering structures at La Défense came in various shapes, even semi circular! Collaged some photos again, because there were some very interesting murals all over the place which added a nice touch to the otherwise very corporate, white collar-ish feel to the place. The Grand Arch (picture in the middle, top row) was quite a colossal structure and seemed like a modern day version of the Arc de Triomphe. And so, in case I haven't mentioned this more than a dozen times earlier, I walked around. What's new? There was a chilly breeze blowing and people had headed home from work by then, so the area was scantily populated. Stood and stared for a bit and then started getting hungry again. So headed back to the pavilion - Shazayleezay, here I come (again). This time I picked a restaurant that had pavement seating, so I could people watch. And boy, it was just a thrill to see what must have been a million ethnicities walk past me while I munched on salad followed by some warm vegetable soup and pizza (topped with profiteroles at the end. Bliss!).

God is quite innovative, I must say...

Day 12: Louvre, Montmartre, Moulin Rouge, Eiffel Tower, Whew!

2009-04-08T23:55:00.000+05:30

After wringing the sightseeing dry out of Avenue des Champs-Élysées the previous evening, I was ready to Triomphe over the rest of Paris (very punny, eh?! :)). Little did I know that it would entail whacked out stuff inter alia standing in serpentine queues for over 3 hours to spying into people's front yards, sharing seating space with bums, walking through a red light district, making a wish (or a dozen!) and getting completely drenched in French rain. I like.

So I began my day with some French croissants and Brazilian coffee and set off for the day's escapades, completely unplanned. Seemed like the nearest Metro station coming up on the route that I had landed up on was Palais Royale Musée du Louvre - so the Louvre it was. I really, truly wasn't expecting anything close to what was in store. Lines that extended to well beyond a kilometer, with the number of people only being third to what I have seen at Ganesh visarjan processions or the Victoria Terminus at rush hour, back home. I must have spent a good four odd hours once inside the Musee and still not seen it all, admiring the ceilings and wall paneling as much as the framed works of art on display. I don't think even four full days could have done enough justice to this magnanimity of a museum. The Mona Lisa though, was quite an anticlimax, being perhaps one of the smaller paintings at the Louvre; and to be really honest, I have a hunch that it may not even be the real thing. So much for the hype.

My tummy was growling by now (come to think of it, I seem to dwell a lot on food each time, don't I?!) so took the Metro straight back to Cadet, the nearest station to my hotel, and walked like a parched Bedouin in a desert in search of water (in my case, food). Around the corner of the lane I discovered a mom-n-pop type restaurant serving up far eastern cuisine. Perfect after putting my poor feet through close to 8 hours of standing (including 3 plus, in a drizzle!). The owners, immigrants from China, doubled up as the chefs and waiters and while they could only speak Cantonese, Mandarin and French, gracefully took my order and didn't slip up one bit (made sure that the food was as vegetarian as vegetarian could be, very gracious of them, given that there wasn't a single vegetarian item on the menu, except for maybe Saké, Ginseng and Jasmine tea). Which is what amazed me about people in France - they always went that extra mile to ensure that their guests weren't disappointed. I left, a very contented Sheik, went straight to my room and crashed face first.

* * *

I couldn't afford to waste too much time, so didn't stay horizontal for too long. Next, I headed towards the tranquil Basilique du Sacré-Cœur in the Montmartre district after hopping off at Anvers station. After paying my respects and making wishes for all my loved ones (and not to mention, witnessing the most splendid views of Paris from atop the hill) I walked out on to the streets from the North Western exit of the Church on to the most pretty cobblestone streets lined with restaurants and créperies, art and souvenir stores, street artists and cartoonists. With a slight nip in the air but thankfully no rain, the weather was near perfect for an aimless walk to nowhere. On my way I passed very pretty apartment buildings with flower pots adorning each window sill, different coloured doors (reds, greens, bright cobalt blues...) winding streets, mansions with cherry blossoms in their front yards, eclectic looking stores selling everything from decorative lights to lingerie and even a windmill shaped restaurant! Montmartre took quaint to a whole new level.

Passed the Abbesses station while walking down the butte (hill) and then on to Blanche. Hadn't realised that I had reached the most infamous red light district of Paris that very moment, home to the Moulin Rouge and numerous sex shops along both sides of the street. Can you believe that I was hungry again? That was mutually exclusive of the previous sentence, just in case you're wondering. So I stopped at one of the many roadside crépe stalls on my way, and stood staring, fascinated, at how the maker rolled out the batter and made the most delicious smelling crépes with fillings ranging from bananas to nutella and a variety of berries. Yummm. By the time it was my turn, I had decided on what I wanted - champignon et fromage (mushroom and cheese, thank you very much!). I don't know what I was thinking when I asked the stall guy if I could shoot a video of him making the crépe from scratch - and to my surprise, he more than happily agreed, although I'll bet he had no clue what I had asked for. So I took a full 5 minute video of the whole process while an adorable little kid in the background kept yelling “PIZZAAA.” Will upload the video over the weekend while I reminisce about the most amazingly delectable crépe I have ever had, which set me back by a very reasonable 3.5 Euros. But simple pleasures are absolutely priceless. Further down the street, I caught a glimpse of the Moulin Rouge (and not to mention, an Indian couple constantly taking pictures of each other with the Moulin Rouge in the background) before walking some more and taking the Métro to the Gare du Champ de Mars - Tour Eiffel - to catch a dekko of the world-famous-in-Paris, Eiffel Tower.

* * *

Eiffel Tower by night was a sight to see. But knowing my luck with things generally, the staff had gone on strike and in case I forgot to mention, it was raining chilled raindrops. So not only did I not get to go up the Tower, I was also soaking wet. It was nearing midnight by now, but being merrily oblivious to the time, I was galavanting around like I was oh-so-familiar with the city. Walked across to the Parc de Champs du Mars, took lots of photographs and finally got someone to take a photo of me with the Eiffel Tower in the background (so I can finally prove that I HAVE been to Paris. And die in peace thereafter.) I finally noticed the time on my watch. Not like my carriage was going to disintegrate into nothingness (a la Cinderella) but I thought I shouldn't be foolhardy enough to give the muggers an invitation to mug the living daylights (or shall I say tube lights?) outta me and started heading hotel-ward. At the hour, as I had been advised by a friend, there is a light show (basically, the Eiffel Tower sparkles). I had to however remain content watching it from atop the Metro station while awaiting my train back to the hotel to get some beauty sleep and recharge my batteries for the next day.

For the amount of walking I had done today, I should have been appointed the new Brand Ambassador for Johnny Walker.

Paris, Je t'aime!

2009-04-07T23:53:00.001+05:30

After a beautiful train ride through the countryside ending in a graffiti-walled approach to Gare St. Lazare, I finally landed in Paris, the most beautiful city in the world, or so I had been told.

Got out of the station and got into a Paris cab that took me straight to the hotel, or shall I say, my petite little abode for the next three nights. Relais du Pre was a non descript hotel on Rue Pierre Semard, a small Paris bylane within close proximity from Gare du Nord (where I was to catch my Eurostar heading back to London in three days). The red door at the entrance and the very friendly receptionist (who seemed like he was of Indian origin!) gave me a good vibe about the place to begin with. I was escorted into my room, a small but very clean double bed with more than adequate lighting, a bathroom with a tub and a french door for a window - quite a different experience. I rested up for a wee bit before heaving myself out of bed and freshning up to set out on a solitary Paris-on-foot expedition.

It was the quintessential "evening in Paris" experience, and while it was quite a dirty, smelly city in certain pockets, there was certainly something magical about it. Or maybe I felt that way because I have always associated romance and flambuoyance with Paris, among other things. I felt rather light headed and thrilled for no reason in particular while I walked out on to Rue La Fayette, where I walked and walked and walked a little more. After quite a while of walking aimlessly, I got to my first tourist attraction: Église de la Sainte-Trinité, a Catholic Church located in the 9th Arrondisement. The twilight sky made it look near-sinister, but it was a splendid piece of architecture, nevertheless.

I then walked towards the Galeries Lafayette Haussmann, the largest departmental store in Paris, which I have to make a special mention of (and pat myself on the back for) resisting stepping in (for obvious reasons!). I continued walking until I found a Metro station. The Paris Metro, I had heard, was a lot easier to navigate through than the London Tube. I found the Tube pretty ok, so I was curious to see how the Metro would turn out. I bought a 3 day pass on the recommendation of a friend, which was the wisest investment I have made yet (yup, seriously). This pass (available at all Metro stations in Paris) can be used to hop on and hop off at will, using any mode of transportation (i.e. the bus, the Metro, etc.) for three days from purchase. Of course, you have to choose the zones you want the pass for, but I wasn't intending to venture outside of Paris city so Zone I was more than adequate for my purposes. Rightfully enough, I found the Metro quite easy to navigate, and had picked up some basic French vocabulary in the last three days too (at the very least to the extent of making sure I could order vegetarian food!). I also had a map of Paris from the French Consulate in Mumbai that highlighted the main attractions in the city. So I randomly decided that I wanted to head towards Avenue des Champs-Élysées. Instead of waiting till I got to Champs Élysées Clemenceau, which is one of the Metro stations right in the middle of the Avenue, I made haste and hopped off at Concorde. By now the Sun had set and it was quite dark outside the Metro station. I wondered where I had landed up - since I had imagined Champs Élysées to be this magnificent and lustrous street lined with shops on either side. Apparently I was looking in the wrong direction. So when I turned around, I was quite dumbfounded at seeing the splendour and grandeur of the Arc De Triomphe staring back at me at the far end of the Avenue, abuzz with people, lights and colour.

Was ravenous by now, so walked in search of a restaurant. Settled for Piza Pino which was right in the middle of the Avenue (what a fantastic location, I say!) and got myself a table overlooking the street on the mezzanine. It was overflowing with people but the waiters did shower a lot of individual attention and made sure that I wasn't feeling left out, being the only one in the whole restaurant who was dining alone that night (eek, because now that I'm back to being around familiar civilisation as I write this, I can't believe how I managed - for the record, I had never eaten alone at restaurants before this trip!). I loved the set meal concept, because it gave one a chance to sample three to four different dishes on the menu as well as some nice wine and dessert. But I skipped the wine for the evening and settled for Evian instead. I also let the waiter take his own order for a change - and wasn't let down at all. He brought me some super fresh salad with vinaigrette dressing for first course, followed by the most heavenly pasta primavera I have ever eaten in my life (with artichokes, bell peppers, aubergines, olives, cherry tomatoes, basil and broccoli). Exceptional. There was, of course, the usual assortment of breads on the house.

By now I had reached page number 5 of a book I had brought along to read on the trip (for day 11, it was quite a feat I had gotten that far!!! ;-)) when the waiter came across to me all of a sudden and asked where I was from. When I said 'India' he held my cheek between the knuckles of his fingers, and exclaimed, "YOU ARE SO BEAUTIE!!!" loud enough for patrons on the entire floor to hear (and stare. Aargh!). My face instantly went beetroot with embarrassment - you could say I wasn't quite expecting this. I laughed out loud and believe me, that's not such a good idea when you're so tickled you can't stop! The chocolate mousse served for dessert with chocolate icecream garnished with a rolled chocolate hazelnut wafer was to die for. And no, I am not going to apologise to my body for indulging this time - after all I was in Paris, the city of indulgence (ok I made that up, but what the heck?!).

The dessert must've been called 'Death by Chocolate' or something on those lines, 'coz, boy, was I ready to go to heaven or what...?!

* * *

I trotted on the Avenue my heart opened to the unknowns
I wanted to say hello to no matter whom
No matter whom, it could be you, I said anything to you
It was enough to speak to you, just to calm down

Yesterday evening two unknowns and this morning on the Avenue
Two in love all dazed by the long night
And to the Star of Concord, form an orchestra with thousand cords
All the birds at day-break singing for the love

Aux Champs-Elysées, aux Champs-Elysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie, à midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout ce que vous voulez aux Champs-Elysées...

~Joe Dassin, "Les Champs-Elysées"

Day 11: Naturospace

2009-04-07T23:03:00.000+05:30

Today was my first day going solo in France so got my act together quite early in the day. Post breakfast, I packed up and bid Noel and his wife goodbye after checking out. Took a few last (and deepest) breaths of Etretat air, hopped into the car, drove away and never looked in the rear view mirror. I don't know if I will ever be back in Etretat in this lifetime, but it was a very special experience indeed which will need more than a terrible attack of amnesia to erase from memory.

By now I was familiar with the route to Honfleur. Plan for the day was to visit Naturospace, an artificially created garden of exotic butterflies and tropical plants, get a quick lunch at one of the many quaint restaurants lining the main street in the heart of the town, and rush back to Le Havre in time to return the rental car and get on a TGV back to Paris, where I would be spending the last three and a half days of my trip to France before heading back to London. Back on Pont de Normandie, listening to some incomprehensible but pleasant sounding French music, I cruised toward Naturospace in Honfleur.

The payment counter was empty so until the attendant came in, I thought I would hang out at the souvenir store and see a temporary exhibit of taxidermed (is that even a word?) insects including spiders, dragonflies, grasshoppers, praying mantis and a wide variety of orchids on display outside which also had some live caterpillars (perhaps for breeding butterflies?). While I took a video of the vaguest looking caterpillar I had ever seen (with some horn-like antennae) it crawled towards me, almost intrigued. Thankfully it was in a large glass box or I would have run for my life (or shat bricks, whichever came instinctively) ;-)

Finally the attendant rung up my ticket and I got to go in. Once through the door, the chill in the atmosphere outside suddenly changed to humid tropical weather (artificially created for the plants and insects inside) and my camera lens instantly fogged up. Naturospace is beyond amazing with much to rave about, but nothing can come close to experiencing it first hand, so I'm stopping short and posting some photographs of the exquisite butterflies, flora and fauna that I spent some quiet time with, for the next three hours (click on the thumbnails for larger views):

* * *

As much as I wanted to stay on, time was ticking away and I had just about enough time to grab lunch and rush to Le Havre to get to Paris. So I made a hasty exit after purchasing a few postcards and souvenirs from the store and walked out towards the town. Restaurants lining the main street in Honfleur have their menus displayed upfront so that patrons can decide whether they want to step in. I decided upon a pretty place called L'Endroit had a sumptuous lunch before setting off to Le Havre.

The car rental company had a convenient arrangement with the Station Master at the Gare (station) where I just had to park my car into a demarcated parking lot and hand over the keys and one copy of my signed contract to him. Once done with the return formalities, I had plenty of time left over to get to my train and settle in. I was really looking forward to the train ride across the French countryside, and not to mention, Paris - the most romantic city in the world...!!!

Le Havre, Pont de Normandie, Honfleur

2009-04-06T22:48:00.000+05:30

After a good couple of hours spent in taking in the sights and sounds of Etretat, it was time to go to Honfleur as per the original plan. Moreover we were running out of time, since I had to drop off my travel buddy to the train station for getting back to Paris and onward home to London, while I continued on the rest of the trip solo. But unfortunately for us (and this is the part where I reiterate that the roundabouts are friggin' confusing!) we lost our way multiple times and couldn't get ourselves on to the main freeway toward Honfleur. Darn it. By which time there was hardly any time left for us to grab a bite to eat and rush to Le Havre station in time for my friend to catch the train back. We did drive around a lot within Le Havre though, through the port, through the town (quite deserted for noon on a week day!). After a quick lunch followed by an ice cream sundae for dessert, I bid my companion of the 2.5 days, a melancholic goodbye. Suddenly it seemed like it wasn't so much fun back to being alone anymore.

As I walked out, the sudden change in scene had me momentarily forget that I was back to being the solitary one. The ghost town of a few minutes ago was suddenly abuzz with hundreds of people when I got out of the train station to get back to doing what I had planned. Almost like they had made all those people appear out of nowhere within a matter of minutes! Crazy, really. Perhaps the French like their siestas? Oddly enough, when I drove out by myself, I managed to get on to the highway we had missed multiple times, without a hitch! The road lead through to an amazing bridge across the river Seine called Pont de Normandie (connecting Haute (upper) and Basse (lower) Normandy) with the quaint and flowery town of Honfleur on the other side. The 5 Euro toll each way was totally worth it. Turned up the volume on the radio (which was playing Pretty Woman by Roy Orbison at the time) and stepped on the gasoline revving up the diesel engine on the near empty bridge. What a high, that.

Reached Honfleur pretty quickly - quaint, pretty little town with tons of shop and restaurant lined streets, boats docked, and even a carousel with music & lights, almost like a perpetual fair was going on. And of course, lots and lots of 'fleur' everywhere - tulips, pansies, in bright reds, yellows, deep purples, you name it, and there was a flower with that colour, not to mention, even striped ones! Lovely atmosphere to walk around in.

Figured out where Naturospace was (more on this, in tomorrow's post) so I could get there easily the next day. Walked the promenade, into the 'Garden of Personalities' - a picturesque and quiet garden where famous poets, songwriters and authors came to get inspired - which lead on to the Honfleur beach. A swarm of little black bugs kept coming at me (probably enamoured by the green tshirt I was wearing) and started to stick on to my clothes. Just as I was contemplating turning back - I saw a scorpion in the sand (presumably dead because it didn't quite display any motion when I stood still and stared at it for 30 odd seconds). Quickly headed back towards the town before I could sight any more of the live variety. The walk across to the beach from the main town was very relaxing and gave me a lot of time to think and reflect about life in general and what I wanted out of it. Not that I had any clear answers by the end of it, but had given things a thought, none the less. Before I knew it, I had ended up loitering around for close to three hours and the Sun had started to set.

I made my way back to Etretat, a good 30 miles away from where I had landed up. Back at the hotel, Noel (the manager) suggested a restaurant/créperie by the name of 'La Flottille' one block away where I had a very satisfying dinner all by myself, the odd stare from people around notwithstanding. Got a crepe set menu (consisting of a non-sweet crepe with mushroom, cheese and egg filling, a sweet crepe with chocolate, icecream + three dollops of whipped cream (calories, calories!) and a glass of white wine) plus a vertu (green) salad on the side). Thought it was good value for money - about 20 EUR all inclusive.

By the time I got out and started walking back toward the hotel it was quite late and had started drizzling. It was pitch dark by then and there was not a single soul on the street as I walked back towards the hotel. Luckily there wasn't much of a distance to cover, so managed to get indoors without getting too wet and/or groped/mugged. The hotel had a very nice lounge area, with a good collection of books and board games. Ironically, I had no company to play those board games with, that night. Chatted up with Noel and a few other guests at the hotel, sharing stories and experiences, and headed back to my room, soon after which I got a call to say that my travel partner had reached back home safely.

Day 10: Les Falaises and some time to reflect

2009-04-06T21:53:00.000+05:30

After quite a filling breakfast at the hotel consisting of cereal, fresh fruit, juices, tea/coffee, a variety of bread with preserves and butter, yogurt, cold cuts (which I obviously didn't eat, but my travel companion quite liked) we set out on a bright sunny day to visit the town of Honfleur further South West of Etretat. It was very different from the dull and dark atmosphere from the previous evening. We got some basic directions from the manager and started driving out towards the destination. About 4 miles into the countryside later, we did an about turn - felt like we hadn't had enough of the cliffs (called Falaises, in Française) and drove back - and didn't regret that decision.

The Sun was shining, the Ocean was a crystal clear jade, the cliffs inviting us with open arms - absolutely perfect weather (around 12-14° C) for a walk up to the top. So we set out - and kept stopping at the vistas at each level to get a view of the beach and Ocean below as we climbed up higher and higher with reckless abandon. Once we reached the top, the view was simply breathtaking, indescribable, inexplicable, ethereal. Nothing but the Ocean for miles and miles and miles on one side, people and establishments reduced to tiny specks of nothingness on the other. I took a few deep breaths and felt the pure air enter my lungs each time. Just my idea of achieving oneness with nature, blithe, free spirited, light hearted and relaxed all at once, not a thought in my mind about the crazed life I'd be back to leading once this would all be over and completely devoid of the worries and trappings of the real world, I soaked it all in without a care in this world. Now I understood why so many artists (including the greats like Claude Monet) had been enamoured with this magical place, and translated their experiences on to canvas. But no oil painting would come even remotely close to the creation of the Artist above.

Reminded me of a couple of verses from the Bhagvad Gita (Chapter 9) which literally translated mean "I am the giver of heat, the sender and withholder of rain, I am immortality and death alike, and all that exists in the manifested present, the unmanifest past and future, I am the healing herb, the incantation, the sacrificial offering and the fire, I am the goal, the sustainer, the master, the witness, the refuge, the creation, dissolution and preservation of all things, the reservoir and the imperishable cause..."

In short, God was nature, God was within and everywhere around me. At that moment, I felt the incomprehensible feeling of oneness with Him. Liberated, joyful, and at peace.

Étretat!

2009-04-05T11:01:00.000+05:30

A journey is always good fun when you have company that laughs at your jokes (no matter how rotten) and patiently hears you talk nineteen to the dozen, mostly unadulterated bullcrap. A journey is also good when the company happens to be at the same levels of mental derangement (is that even a word?) as you are, and agrees when you suggest it would be a good idea to play Antakshari!!! Good grief. So a few songs later, I won. And that was the end of that. And then we never played this game again for the rest of the journey.

Anyway, the drive was very pleasant through the incredible French countryside. Those roundabouts really confuse you at first. And even later. Perpetually, in fact. But we somehow managed to make it to Étretat by late afternoon / early evening, a place that had been the whole purpose of my taking this trip, a place so surreal, it makes surreal go red in the face with embarrassment.

We first parked at a public parking and walked in search of our hotel. Called the Detective Hotel, we were not expecting it to be anything like the previous night, and it obviously didn't match up, but in all fairness, was rather charming in itself. We had the "Magnum" room (themed after Magnum, P.I., the Hawai'ian private eye played by Tom Selleck) how cute is that?! The hotel didn't have assigned parking, but the manager / owner got us introduced to his friend who let us park in his garage next door. Very homely and nice people, all, who almost jumped with excitement when we said we were from India, just like the couple at the Villa did, the previous evening.

We walked across to the beach, picking up an ice cream on the way - and boy, was it freeezing (not the ice cream, the weather). It was borderline overcast, and probably around 5 degrees C, not the ideal day for a beach certainly, but we couldn't care less. To my amazement, there was not a single soul on the beach (ok, maybe one odd seagull, but that's about it). Close to sundown, we swish swashed our way across the full pebble beach to the other end. One of the cliffs had a portion jutting out that made for perfect seating. So we both just sat there, stared at the sunset and the cliffs, in alternation. All we could hear was the sound of waves crash against the pebbles and recede into oblivion. It was just the never ending cliffs, the ocean, the setting Sun and two completely overwhelmed people, for what seemed like eternity...

Day 9: Rouen by Sunlight

2009-04-05T09:47:00.000+05:30

We had a light breakfast consisting of fresh croissants (with an array of preserves), fruit juices and coffee, served in the living room of the Villa itself, took some pointers on what to do and see in and around Rouen from the our warm and friendly hosts and owners of the Villa and set out on our escapade for the day after checking out and bidding one of the most beautiful homes I've lived in, goodbye with a heavy heart.

Rouen was a very pretty town indeed, but also rich in history. The capital of Haute-Normandie (Upper Normandy), it is most famously known for Madame Joan of Arc being burned at stake. I admire the woman, I really do. Or any woman for that matter, who can hold her own in this world, prove that she's an equal and stand up to men. Good for her. We walked out to the Rouen Cathedral (known in French as Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Rouen) an ancient Roman Catholic Cathedral with some phenomenal stained glass adorning its interiors. Across from the entrance to the Cathedral was the Rue du Gros Horloge (street of the large clock) which was a really neat little alleyway lined with a variety of shops including those selling chocolate, in abundance! Given that it was so close to Easter, they had 'em bunnies and eggs in various shapes and sizes. The smell of chocolate pretty much engulfs the street and it sure is heavenly. So we bought some chockies and ate them while admiring the exquisite jewelry and artwork displayed in the stores aligning the street (all shut for the holidays except for the chocolate shops) until we reached the Gros Horloge (large clock or the Great Clock).

This clock is a piece of work in itself. First off, it only has an hour hand (which I never realised until I saw the photos!) - not a surprise, that, since it was built in the 14th Century, when people perhaps had so much time on their hands that they couldn't care about the more granular details like, well, minutes! What's more, a beautiful globe above the clock even indicates phases of the Moon... Wonder how they had these things all figured out in the Middle Ages. On the other side of the Rue was a wide open space, perhaps the Central Square, which housed a market and had an array of pubs and restaurants on all four sides. I don't know about my companion, but I sure was feeling a little woozy in the head (not sure whether it was due to lack of sleep or the wine; or perhaps, a combination of both!) moreover that breakfast, lovely as it was, hadn't done justice to my dental cavity even, so we promptly walked in to one of the restaurants in the area and ordered some food. The only vegetarian item on the menu was cheese pizza, not the ideal meal when one is feeling nauseated. I did force down a couple of slices though, since we had a long way to go and I was the only one of the two of us that had a driver license and was going to be doing all the driving (yikes!). Anyway, it all worked out well, and we're both still alive as I write this (more than a month later) because I did feel better eventually - possibly due to passage of time, but I wasn't about to complain.

Ahh, for the perks of getting lost...

2009-04-04T23:15:00.000+05:30

As Lao Tzu (the father of Taoism) once said, "A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving" - I believe we took him quite literally today. While we did know where we had to end up for the night, we merrily ended up getting lost multiple times along the way. But as they say, everything happens for a reason. The marvelous countryside of France we were witness to during our 'lost' time was incredible, inexplicable to say the very least. One deep breath; and a feeling of intense relaxation infiltrated straight into the heart - quite an unadulterated pleasure, that. Gives contentment a whole new meaning. Drove for over two hours (lost time included) to get to the historic city of Rouen, shortly after sundown. I had planned to spend the night in a Villa, but had no idea that the experience would redefine indulgence, in more ways than one...

We arrived at our abode for the night - Villa la Gloriette - a beyond heavenly bed and breakfast in a small bylane near the train station. The room warrants a separate post in itself, but I am not going to divulge too much, because one has to go and experience the magic of this place first hand. So here's a picture of our pink coloured room, Bovary, with its own private verandah, to give you an idea of what it was like.

Weary from the journey, I first rushed to the bathroom and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets - an opulent bathroom indeed! The kicker really was a bathtub on legs that had different shades of pink organza curtains around it. After a quick shower and freshening up, we headed back downstairs to see the owners of the Villa and get some recommendations on where to get a bite to eat. They recommended Al Denté, a quaint little Italian restaurant a short walk away. I particularly loved the Red Wine they served - a 2007 Villa Sylvia Chianti and of course the food was very good. The ambiance was even better, with some live music and a very homely atmosphere, it made for the perfectly sweet dining experience.

Last but not the dessert was to die for - some heavenly (what seemed like freshly made) Tiramisu. Between the two of us, we finished up the bottle of wine and wiped clean all the food served like good kids. We then headed out for a walk around town, stopped by an Indian restaurant (our peeps manage to get everywhere) and said hello to our fellow countrymen, picked up some local wine (which ended up being less than half as good as the Italian Chianti we just had) and walked around some more before heading back to our Villa to sample the wine. We laughed and chatted about the fun travel experiences each of us had had, and were having a good time in general. It was well past midnight by now, and the town was in deep slumber when we had a brainwave. Why not walk around town in the dead of the night? Brilliant, I say. So we tiptoed out (since there was pin drop silence all around to the extent that one could hear oneself breathe!) and stepped out for a walk around Rouen in some 7 degrees Celsius (brr!!!), spending a quiet moment by the Joan of Arc memorial (where Madame de' Arc was burned alive at stake) and loitering around some more in what had become a ghost town, before tip-toeing back into the Villa.

"O radiant Dark! O darkly fostered ray! Thou hast a joy too deep for shallow Day..."

...Madame 'Eliot,' I simply couldn't agree more.

Day 8: Accueil, France!

2009-04-04T22:35:00.000+05:30

I finished up packing the previous night, moreover since I had to check out of the apartment in the morning, I didn't want to leave anything for the next morning. Woke up very early - around 6:00 AM - so that I could be ready well ahead of time so as to avoid any disasters. One thing I forgot to mention though is that I had managed to get myself a really, really bad shoe bite by Thursday evening, which had only worsened over the next couple of days. It turned into a half inch wide water boil on the inner ankle of my left foot by Saturday morning. Just as I was about to leave the house, I managed to hurt myself at that very spot, which made the boil burst and start to ooze...

Anyway, I'll leave the gory details out, but by the time I got to King's Cross St. Pancras International station, I had managed to miss my Eurostar out to Paris. Aaaaaarrrrrrghh!!! Luckily I had a friend traveling with me for the first two days, who worked some miracle on the customer service rep - and managed to get our tickets reissued to the very next train that was to leave after an hour and half. Lucky us.

The Eurostar was a tad bit smelly, but nevermind, we were going to France so anything goes. I liked the cafe on board, but didn't get anything to eat or drink over the next two and a half hours, the time it took for us to reach Paris from London. We had a prebooked rental car through CarHire3000, and it turned out to be a metallic cobalt blue Renault Clio in a diesel version. I was super thrilled to see her - shiny and beautiful as she was. And from that moment on, I just knew that there was nothing that could thwart my plans just yet - no basis in particular - that gut feeling you get sometimes...

Day 7: Little India

2009-04-03T23:10:00.000+05:30

I have a friend (actually my aunt's friend) who lives in a place called Kingsbury, in North West London. While I would normally not visit anyone, she was kind enough to invite me over for lunch and I really like her, so I set off on the pathologically slow Jubilee line at my own pace, quite late in the day. As always, I ended up striking up a conversation with a fellow passenger on the tube who had led a rather interesting life. She was an Arts student in London, but had been an Au Pair in her past life, taking care of 3 kids in a mansion in Europe. She told me interesting stories about how she coped with the job (the children's mother had just left their father a short while before she came on the scene) and some of the perks of living in a countryside castle where she could open her bedroom windows everyday to a 360° vast expanse of grassy fields, mountains and breathtaking views. She spoke of wanting to visit holy places of worship in India, and to experience what the country was like in general, since she had heard so many good things about it. Didn't realise how fast we got to our destination in the course of our sharing travel stories - she too was going to alight at Kingsbury Tube station. She gave me her contact details and we parted ways - unfortunately I never managed to call her back...

My friend was waiting for me at the tube station and drove me through what seemed like a chunk of India airlifted and placed in Britain - Indian grocery stores, Indian people everywhere, Indian restaurants (most of which had the same old clichéd names like Taj Mahal or India Palace) etc. etc. It was close to lunch time, and she had cooked some delicious Biryani for me - I was actually eating Indian food for the first time since I had arrived in the UK. I got an update on all the people we knew in common and chatted up about everything under the Sun. She had baked some yummy bread pudding for dessert (which she later admitted was a ready-to-bake item she had picked up at the local grocery store. Hee hee).

That day happened to be Ram Navami, the birthday of Rama, a Hindu God. Her kids had to be picked up from school later that afternoon and I had said I would go along. So we left ahead of time and headed towards the B.A.P.S. Swaminarayan Temple in Neasden, a short drive from her place, after a quick stop at the Wembley Arena. Preparations were in full swing for the religious ceremonies to be held shortly and it was quite a beautiful temple. Paid our respects and headed out to pick up the girls from school.

The rest of the afternoon / evening was spent sipping on some piping hot tea and generally faffing around, doing nothing productive really. Which was good, because that was the whole intention of the vacation, to begin with. She then guided me through a shorter route back via the Tube and dropped me off at Kingsbury Tube station from where I headed back home. Had some serious packing to do - after all, I was heading to France for a week tomorrow...!!!

Day 6: Stomp! the Management

2009-04-02T23:29:00.000+05:30

Today began as a rather uneventful 'day' to be writing about on a travel blog. Why I say 'day' will be apparent later on this post. But I mean, only so many people will be interested in knowing how to manage employees, garner tips for equal employment, no discrimination type sensitisation issues and all that jazz. I had to take a full day mandatory Management course / seminar as part of my post-qualification process (after having qualified as a Solicitor of the Supreme Court of England and Wales) at the Hallam Conference Center (wherever the hell that was, because not even the woman smoking on the pavement standing a few feet away from the building was able to give me proper directions!!!). Anyway, so I was told to make my way from the Oxford Street tube station and the directions were all wrong in the map the organisers provided, so I was aimlessly strolling in the rain and not to mention, the freezing weather. Cutting a long story short, I made it, albeit 45 minutes too late. Fourteen presentations and multiple attempts (both successful and unsuccessful) at yawn suppression later, I managed to successfully get certified and accredited. Yay for me.

I had made a friend at the seminar (a girl of Indian origin from Goa who was living in the U.K. for the last five years) so she volunteered to go shopping with me on Oxford Street. Two girls shopping is a recipe for disaster, so before I start feeling guilty, I'll stop talking about the shopping I did.

I did however have an interesting plan for the evening - had prebooked tickets to a live performance by STOMP! followed by a dinner with a friend. So I was really looking forward to reversing the mind numbing effect of the seminar with the live act. And BOY, did it impress me or what! Stupendous (or shall I say, STOMP!endous performance) beyond any explanation. Simply indescribable. I found a video of it on Youtube to demonstrate what amazing things these guys are capable of, but it comes nowhere close to the live performance. So yeah, please catch a show of Stomp! in your city if you can.

And after the show, my friend and I walked across to Piccadilly Circus and over into China Town, where we had a nice chinese dinner. What we ate was inconsequential, it was the great company, the laughs shared and the most inane of conversations that mattered, and my evening had just turned out to be one of the most fun filled evenings of the trip, yet!

Day 5: Fat Tires, Royal Parks, fun in the sun

2009-04-01T23:51:00.000+05:30

I think the last time I rode a bicycle was some two odd years ago, when I met up with a bunch of friends from High School during a trip to Singapore. We took a ferry across from Singapore mainland to the island of Pulau Ubin, hired bikes and rode them around for a good 2-3 hours through the tropical island up and down steep slopes. Brings back fond (and not so fond) memories - the not so fond ones being those of having to nurse the broken ass after the fact. But everything goes, broke ass included, for the Fat Tire Bike Tour. Perfect activity for a sunny Wednesday morning in London. The tour is impeccably organised (albeit informal) and the group meets outside the Queensway tube station at around 10:00 AM or so every day and sets off on a predetermined route to see the city on two wheels with some fun company (mostly tourists, consisting of families, couples and the odd solo traveler like myself). I had been in touch with David who assists with organisation of the tour via email to get information beforehand. I was impressed with his prompt responses (I think a sign of good things to come).

We had a witty Irish tour guide, Dylan, to give us his zany perspective on things and tell us about the city as we took a few breaks at some prominent locations, in his very Irish accent and sense of humour. At first, we walked with our bikes across the street to Hyde Park, where he gaves us a basic overview of how the tour is conducted. Some of us did a little 'practice' cycling to be sure we could manage for the rest of the day. Through the tour, we cycled through extremely picturesque Royal Parks, some of London's most significant monuments, starting with the most enviable address in London (No. 1, London, also known as Apsley House) followed by the Wellington Arch, where Dylan told us about how the boy who leads the chariot is actually the son of the man who funded what is now the largest bronze sculpture in all of Europe, Lord Michelham (some perks of having a rich Dad!) and ending up across from the Buckingham Palace, right in the middle of the G20 action. The entire area was cordoned off but tourists still freely walking about. Mounted policemen patrolled around the area and we saw a couple of motorcades, each time, taking guesses at which world leader was arriving. After a few minutes talking about the Buckingham Palace and the Queen, we headed Trafalgar Square-wards, via the Admiralty Arch, which was open for G20 vehicles (and our bikes!)

Tied all our bikes together on a vacant pavement, locked 'em up, and walked towards the Square and the National Gallery for some photo ops. After clicking away for a bit, we broke out for lunch. Since I didn't want to while away during those 50 minutes we had to spare, I picked up a sandwich and a fruit juice from the nearby Pret-a-manger (the sandwich was beyond horrible - I hate rocket leaves from the bottom of my gut) so I finished up with lunch sooner than expected (since I never ate anything anyway) and headed towards the Portrait Gallery across the street. Loved the artwork and photography on display. Stared at a huge portrait of Sir Richard Branson an artist had created out of cutting and pasting random postcards, in a particular pattern, for a whole five minutes or so. It was a phenomeneal piece of artwork, couldn't fathom how he conceptualised and created it!!! (What you see in the adjoining photo is a collage of postcards arranged so as to create the face of Branson).

After close to an hour at the gallery, I rushed back to the designated meeting point to continue with the rest of the tour. We got back on our bikes, and headed towards 10, Downing Street, stopping for a bit at the Cabinet War Rooms and Churchill Museum where we heard hilarious anecdotes, quotes and stories of and about Sir Winston Churchill from our guide, one of them being what he said to Lady Astor, the first female member of the House of Commons when she exclaimed that he was drunk, "Yes, Madam, I am. But in the morning, I will be sober and you will still be ugly..."

We continued to cycle in and around the area, and then headed towards the Westminster Abbey, the House of Parliament and the Big Ben. From stories about the horrific torture of Guy Fawkes, to the statue of Churchill 'where no pigeons shall poop' (because he didn't want pigeon poop on his head, if at all they immortalised him in the form of a statue, so they have electric current running through the statue's head so birds can't sit on it - but I fail to understand how they still wouldn't poop while flying above the statue - something to ponder about?)

Back on the track, we rode through some more parks and a pond / lake that they had manually dried up for their once in two decade cleaning session - and found a dozen or more engagement rings sitting at the bottom (yikes!). By now it was close to four hours I had been cycling, and my tush was aching beyond control but I was still having fun. Passed the Royal Albert Hall and headed through towards the Diana Princess of Wales Memorial Park. What a beautiful park, that. I could relax and read a book by the soothing sounds of the water fountain all day long (what a charmed life that would be!). Now I've lost track of what else we saw - quite a bit covered, actually. By the end of it, we walked our bikes back to the Fat Tire office (a short walk from the meeting point of earlier in the day) paid up said my goodbyes. For some 25 bucks, it was 5 hours well worth it, sore rear in tow.

Day 4: Lunch with a colleague, et. al.

2009-03-31T11:45:00.000+05:30

I hadn't planned too much for the day today, since one of my counterparts from the London office of the organisation I work with, had very graciously offered to take me to lunch following which, I had a few meetings lined up with other members of the legal department. So I took the tube to St. Paul's and promptly walked out in the wrong direction. Sometimes, getting lost can be pretty darn productive. So I landed up at the quaint St. Paul's Cathedral, which I had originally had no intention of visiting, but loved it none the less. I somehow find peace in cathedrals and churches. Then again, I can also find peace in a fishmarket. I guess its all relative, but yes, silence does me good, since I otherwise cannot stop expressing my opinions while on familiar territory.

Finally figured my way out and landed up where I was supposed to land up. We had firm wide communications circulating about the ongoing G20 Summit and that everyone going to work that week should be dressed down. But I wasn't expecting to see the whole shebang show up jeans and Ugg boots! Ok, that's an overstatement because the guys weren't wearing the Uggs, but you get the drift... I had interacted with this colleague I was to meet, quite often over the past few months and found her incredibly sweet over the phone / email, so I was looking forward to seeing her. She turned out to be just as I had imagined her, curly blonde hair in a bob and quite the effervescent personality (I hadn't imagined the hair; just the personality). I introduced myself and we shook hands before walking to a neat little restaurant built in the middle of a street called Manicomio (this one's called "Manicomio, gutter lane"!). I quite liked what we ate. I got a cranberry juice, salad and a pasta (simple but delicious, prepared in a green sauce with mixed vegetables). She got some Diet Coke and a pasta with a tomato and basil based sauce - incredibly aromatic. We talked nineteen to the dozen, about everything except what we normally talk about at work - exchange traded derivatives and the like, were quickly replaced with, among other things, family and kids, how her husband was coping without a job that he had recently lost during the downturn (something a lot of British families are probably going through right now); and on my side about life in India, living a nomadic existence, starting afresh (which incidentally she was quite experienced at - having started afresh more than a couple of times during the course of her extensive career spanning two continents and many cities for various reasons including marriage and children). Once done with lunch, we walked back to the office, and parted with a hug. It was good fun chatting up with her.

The meetings that followed were incredibly productive. Like the regional Head of the legal deparment explaining directions to get to a particular shopping place I had planned to go to after the meetings, for starts. ("You come all the way to meet us in London to get directions to Harvey Nicks?!" he lamented in his very British accent before bursting into a laugh). I met some very cool people that day, incredibly sharp and masters at what they did. It feels good to know that I have the best possible resources and experience across the organisation I tap into for personal and professional growth.

Next is what? Harrod's and Harvey Nichols, two "upmarket" shopping centers in London. Walked around aimlessly through both these stores, and left. No prizes for guessing why... No, wait, I did actually get a mixed fruit smoothie at the Harvey's fresh food and drink section ;-)

Again, popped in and out of various stores along the way, picked up some trinkets here and there, and decided to call it a day. Baked myself some decent pizza (the frozen variety, with tomatoes, spinach, mozzarella and goat cheese toppings I had picked up from Sainsbury's the other day) and garlic rolls, tossed up some lettuce and tomato salad with vinaigrette dressing and had a very fulfilling dinner, after which I snuck into bed and flipped channels for a bit ultimately zeroing in on American Idol which promptly put me to sleep in a matter of moments.

Day 3: Windsor, Stonehenge, Oxford

2009-03-30T12:10:00.001+05:30

Mondays are always busy days and today was no different. I had signed up for a full day sightseeing bus tour, through Evan Evans (about 45 quid not including entrance fees - which was quite a good deal) and was asked to show up at the Victoria Coach station at 8:45 AM. Ahhh..., for Monday morning blues.

So anyway, I managed to make it to the meeting point on time. It was a big red bus (not the open top - a regular one) with a tour guide having a dry sense of humour (I like!) and a lady bus driver (I forget both their names, but vaguely recollect the driver's name, as per the guide, being 'sexy Jill' or something on those lines). Plan for the day was to drive out to Windsor Castle first, grab a quick lunch at one of the many cafés and eateries at Windsor Castle itself, head out to Stonehenge and then finally land up at Oxford.

- - -

After what seemed like an hour's drive, we got to our first pit stop on the agenda - Windsor Castle. The Castle makes quite an interesting trip, replete with magnificent landscaped gardens and lawns, a walk through the splendidly furnished State Apartments (loved the crockery!!!) a Chapel on the premises and the Queen's doll house (I've never owned dolls in my life, odd for a girl, I know, but could have still spent hours admiring the detailing of the clothing, furniture and what not, if I didn't have to rush back out in time for the 11:00 AM Change of the Guard ceremony outside).

The Change of Guard was very well executed and a disciplined but serene ceremony. Loved the atmosphere created by the full band that played on the side, conductor et. al. Preferred this over the one at the Buckingham Palace any day.

Since we had limited time on our hands and a lot more to see, I started out towards the food outlets to get me something to E.A.T. (incidentally the name of the chain of 'grab a quick bite' kind of outlets in the UK) and got myself a sandwich, a strawberry smoothie and some potato crisps before heading back towards the bus and gobbling it all up.

Note that Windsor also has its own version of the London Eye (neither of which I took a ride on, due to lack of time, but it looked quite appealing none the less). All in all, it was a nice experience walking around the Castle and I'd definitely recommend a visit for the London tourist.

- - -

Next stop was Stonehenge. I've always been interested in knowing how they got those huge rocks to stay upright and never fall, back in the prehistoric times. Once we got there, I realised that there's nothing but these rocks, for miles and miles and miles, other than wide open spaces. There is definitely something mysterious about it, just couldn't pinpoint what. Not sure what it was used for (prehistoric Rock concerts, anyone? or maybe a burial / cremation ground?). Anyway, bottomline is, how they transported those stones to the middle of nowhere and got them embedded into Earth, is unfathomable. The audio guide that they provide at the entrance will tell you all the stories (proven and not) and about all the mysteries that shroud Stonehenge. Unfortunately they won't let you touch the stones or stand by them for photographs, fearing erosion. So you have to look at it from a few feet away. A lot of sheep nonchalantly graze - probably used to seeing all the tourists around now - creating an unexplainable atmosphere, mix between wierd, eerie, and strangely calming. An interesting fact I got to know was that more than 150 different types of lichens grow on the Stonehenge stones. Very useful, I know. But I had a rockin' time at Stonehenge, really did. Every pun intended :)

- - -

Third and final pit stop was Oxford. While we drove towards the University campus area, we were told not to mention "the other one" (a.k.a. Cambridge) even by mistake. So while it, that shall not be named, featured in many conversations and stories over the next couple of hours, everyone was mindful enough not to say it out loud (thank God for small mercies, otherwise I don't know if we'd have escaped alive ;-))

I had heard that there is no such thing as the Oxford University per se, but a collection of some 38 colleges that have their curriculum and examinations administered by the Oxford University. Interesting. We strolled into some of the more prominent colleges (Exeter, Brasenose, Jesus, Balliol - incidentally where a friend of mine studied law on a Rhodes scholarship! etc.) and then walked across to the Bodleian Library, one of the oldest and most equipped libraries in all of Europe. Quite a magnificent structure, that.

The area in general is very universiti-esque (duh!) and has a nice feel to it. Cafés and shops line the streets, and so do the odd sculptures and monuments. I would have bought a sweatshirt but Bombay has the most rottenly hot weather all year through (its either hot or humid or raining or a combination of these) so I passed. Bought some souvenirs from the gift shops and a couple of Oxford University key chains, sat at a roadside café and enjoyed a nice hot cappuccino while I people watched, and before I knew it, it was time to head back to sexy Jill and the big red bus.

All of the University's buildings have its motto (Dominus Illuminatio Mea) adorning each entrance. The motto is extracted from the Psalm 27 and means "the Lord is my light."

I did consider studying at Oxford at one point in time, and life would have been so different if I had. But I am not complaining one bit, because life has turned out very well (touchwood) even though I didn't. On a more general note, I cannot reiterate the impact education has had on my life. The world is now an empty canvas waiting for me to fill it with whatever colours and patterns I please, and I don't think that without the education, I'd have had the luxury of experiencing a fraction of what life has to offer. Opened my mind to so many different and limitless possibilities, given me the confidence to be who I want to be, do what I want to do, and all those nice things. A Hispanic lady in the group walked up to me and admired that I was traveling alone - that she had never seen an Indian girl without the traditional garb and the dot between the eyes, so she was proud to see me do what I was doing (and that she'd herself never have dared to venture out on her own like that!). That itself said a lot, and meant a lot to me.

And as usual, I have digressed once more. But end of the day, the trip to Oxford was a mix of reflective, enjoyable and contemplative all at once, and left me happier and (more) content from within.

Day 2: Bridge, museum, movie

2009-03-29T23:15:00.000+05:30

No, not the card game. The Tower Bridge. That's where I decided to go on day 2. But earlier in the day, I had to go shopping for some groceries, so I walked across to the Sainsbury's on Bugsby's way down the street and bought some essentials, where I managed to spend (waste) half my day.

The Jubilee line had bailed on me for a second day in a row, so took the bus again. The Tower Bridge area was like a ghost town on Sunday, but I wasn't complaining. Moreover, I had intended to visit the Design Museum, a non descript contemporary museum of design, fashion, architecture and furniture within a short walk from the bridge. The road through the Tower Bridge was cordoned off for construction work (they were only this short of shutting the city down, to commemorate my presence) so I didn't manage to get to the Tower of London on the other side. For the record, I have been there during my previous visit but had little memory so had it on my 'perhaps' agenda, but then decided that I didn't want to go back in and pay to increase my bloodpressure levels upon seeing the Koh-i-Noor lying in a casket in London instead of back home in India where it should rightly be. Anyway, I digress.

After walking aimlessly through the streets, trying to find the Design Museum, I finally found it. It was a small-ish museum, but I had fun none the less. They had some cute designs overall, but a special exhibit having some of Hussein Chalayan's fashion design on display was rather impractical, in my view, I mean, there's only so much use for a dress with coloured lights underneath. Like perhaps volunteering as a light source in a remote village in India that has no electricity. Or a dress that emanates red laser beams. Like conducting multiple power point presentations in a dark room at one go. Or the peach (or was that baby pink) coloured dress that you could use at a halloween party to dress up like a cake, in. (Not bad, actually, I found more uses for his designs while I am typing this post, than I thought they'd be useful for when I was looking at them...)

The final floor had some interesting stuff though. Like an 'aquaduct' bicycle which purifies water when you cycle, and contains a filteration system within that would purify the collected water by the time you get to your destination, an electric car, faux alley lamps (created with a mould into which a substance is to be poured which crystallises and sticks on to the wall you would like your lamp to be on. Complicated explanation, I know, but I thought it was cool nonetheless) and similar oddball concepts which were quite intriguing and innovative all at once.

The icing on the cake, however, was the museum gift shop, which had on sale, some extremely cool stuff like a "delete key" shaped eraser, "Tetris" fridge magnets, a grenade shaped bag, a 'liquid' bookmark (see accompanying picture), a panic button and the coolest of all, a "wake me up" badge on which the wearer would insert their destination (and hopefully be woken up by fellow commuters in time, on the Tube!).

Ingenious.

- - -

Once done with the Design Museum, I took a stroll down the deserted alleyways running parallely and perpendicular to the Tower Bridge, capturing some oddities here 'n there on my camera. Hopped back on to the bus once I'd had my fill of the area and headed homeward.

Back to North Greenwich, I figured I'd have to pop in to one of the restaurants at the O2 to grab a quick bite in any case, so headed Dome-ward instead. Quite an array of restaurants they've got. But given that I already had quite a late (and heavy) lunch earlier in the day, I felt it would be a better idea to hold off for a bit. Meandering around, I noticed a touch screen kiosk for Vue Cinemas. 8:00 PM was a good time for a movie, so I touched, saw and decided on "Duplicity" (only for Julia Roberts, because I didn't have a blooming clue who the others were). Got meself a Ben 'n Jerry's icecream (chocolate fudge brownie in a waffle cone, which was positively yummm...!) and plonked down into my seat in a theatre that was barely half occupied. Loved the movie, a sharp, racy story about two corporate spies played by Julia Roberts (fabulous, as always) and Clive Owen. This, followed by a quick-ish dinner at Tapa Tapas at the Dome itself, took a bus back home (too full and lazy to walk) and nosedived into bed.

Day 1: Markets

2009-03-28T22:45:00.001+05:30

It was almost lunchtime, so what better a place to head to, than a food market!

I had heard quite a lot about a particular open air food market that sat on Saturdays, called Borough Market. As luck would have it, the Jubilee Line was closed for the weekend for 'planned engineering works' so I hopped on to a bus at North Greenwich (the Tube station closest to my apartment) and got myself to London Bridge after one change (bus no. 188 to Canada Water, and then 47 to Shoreditch, stopping at London Bridge). But the best (and fastest) way to get there would have obviously been to take the Tube to London Bridge station.

I had no idea what awaited me as I walked towards Borough Market. The aroma of all things edible started to grow stronger and stronger as I walked down the steps to enter this lovely food market. What I believe is the oldest food market in London, Borough Market had stalls for everything remotely edible, from all types of meat, fish, poultry, cheeses, exotic ingredients, teas, coffees, to vegetables, bakeries / patisseries, fruit and food stalls. As the calming effect on my olfactory nerves continued, I walked through a sea of people assessing each and every stall in the market. Finally found my destination: The Veggie Table.

Quite an anticlimax, eh? Being around what were perhaps the best meats in the continent, here I was, planning to eat, what some good friends would call 'grass.' I have been a vegetarian since I was a teenager (while other "normal" teenagers would perhaps rebel by getting a tattoo or running away from home, I for one, turned vegetarian. Whatever in the world I may have been rebelling against, vegetarianism has now become a way of life, for the better or for worse) so that was the best I could have asked for, anyway. They had a wide array of salads (over a dozen different types!) and all things veggie, in addition to burgers made out of mixed vegetables and some unidentifiable ingredients that made it taste so special. So I had a little bit of everything, coupled with a fairly large veggie burger (just the patty - no bread - which, for the record, was the best I've had yet) packed in a neat little box so I could take it around with me and continue to eat while I checked out the rest of the market. Of all the salads, I liked the one with the chick peas and kidney beans, as well as the potato salad.

There was also a 'live' pasta counter (where they freshly made pasta from scratch in front of you and also whipped up some sumptuous pasta with the ingredients / sauces of your choice), hot dogs, sandwiches / paninis with all possible fillings, juices and smoothies of different types, etc. My personal favourites however, were all the bakery / patisserie stalls - the fragrance of vanilla and chocolate, and all the beautiful looking pies, pastries, cakes, cheesecakes, cookies and fudges - of which the vendors would keep distributing samples (all of which tasted great) - had me totally mesmerised. I finally settled for a large piece (more like chunk) of chocolate walnut brownie that melted in my mouth. Simple pleasures...

- - -

It was a day of market - hopping. My next destination was the Covent Garden Market. Took the RV1 bus from London Bridge to the Covent Garden stop (the bus terminates right across from the entrance to the market). An impromptu Opera singer entertained the crowds sitting in a cafe on the basement level. The market was nothing out of the ordinary - it had the usual fashion & accessory (Accessorize, H&M, French Connection) and health & beauty (Lush, L'Occitane, Crabtree and Evelyn) stores etc., like a regular shopping arcade and also some interesting art and hand made jewelry.

But the real highlight of the Market were the street performers in the Piazza - from a stand up comedian who called himself "Sham-the-Bum" (he did everything from being a cereal killer (i.e., slashing a box of Kellog's corn flakes down the middle with a machete), juggling 7 tennis balls at a time and riding a 12 foot high unicycle!) to some very talented musicians playing an incredible array of instruments, all of which created a very pleasant atmosphere to just stroll around in without having a care in this world.

I didn't shop much - just bought a nice fragrance from the Body Shop (Neroli Jasmin) - and walked around some more.

After having my fill of Covent Garden Market, I walked out of the area, and aimlessly on to the street, popping in to shops that tickled my fancy, or just soaking in the sights and sounds of London, taking random photographs of the city.

- - -

Close to sundown, I hopped back on to the bus and headed homeward towards O2 - the Millenium Dome in North Greenwich. I think there was a Metallica concert in the arena that evening, so crowds thronged the area. I had no agenda in particular, so randomly checked out the insides and outsides of this new age construction before heading back home (a short walk from the Dome via the David Beckham academy).

Jet lagged and tired (more like completely pooped) but at the end of a very satisfying first day in London, I dragged myself into bed after a quick shower and was out to the world.

First (or maybe second) impressions

2009-03-28T10:33:00.001+05:30

The flight per se was good (I flew Jet Airways, which operates a direct flight from Bombay) and got me to London a little shy of 9 hours from take-off. Unfortunately for me, I had a handful of cry babies (bless them) who wailed in alternation throughout the night, in effect, not allowing me more than 5 minutes of undisturbed sleep at a stretch. Tried downing some red wine, pulling the blanket over my head, reading and even watching a Bollywood movie but nothing seemed to help. One couple really took the cake with their quasi-newborn, snoring away to glory while their baby cried like a banshee. I had to actually wake them up to draw their attention to the poor thing, who was perhaps hungry or just craving attention.

The girl on the neighbouring seat however, was a tad bit luckier. No sooner than the plane took off, she was out cold. Just like that. And woke up the following morning in time for breakfast (which she didn't have, by the way, but that's besides the point). Eventually, we got chatting about the impact of recession on our daily lives, work related travel and the like. She too, like me, was traveling for work and throwing some pleasure in. It makes me beam with pride that young girls in India are progressing well.

Landed about half an hour ahead of schedule and had my prebooked taxi driver from Handicars waiting with my name up on a signboard at Heathrow Terminal 3. Landing temperature, said the Captain, was 7 degrees Centigrade. Quite a radical change from the 35+ I had left behind in Mumbai. It was 7.30 am local time, and a chilly breeze was blowing as we (the driver and I) walked out to the parking lot chatting away. Brr.

He drove me towards my home for the coming week (a private serviced apartment in Greenwich Millenium Village) in what looked like a deep blue Škoda Superb. It was an oddly nice feeling to be back after sixteen years. The perception of a child had altered to some extent: pink cherry blossoms seemed more attractive than Tetris, for starts...

Funnily enough, when I asked about how the weather had been, the driver was quite taken aback, "Madam," he said, "I thought you were a Londoner." I laughed. "Where are you from?" he asked, and smiled when I replied "Bombay."

"You appear to be a South Indian. Whereabouts are you from?" It was my turn to ask. "Sri Lanka," he responded. ...and then the conversation veered towards how beautiful I think his home country is and some of my memories of it. By the end of it all, he seemed thrilled about the whole thing.

He was quite resourceful, in that he kept telling me about each area we'd be driving through, whether it was a safe place for me to walk around in, places in the vicinity worth visiting, etc. While passing by the Greenwich area, he told me about the Royal Observatory and recommended a visit. I said I definitely would.

I reached my destination in a short while. He helped me get my bags out to the lobby of the place that I was staying at, before waving me goodbye and zooming off.

So far, so good.

The owner of my private serviced apartment for the week was a Slovak woman who barely spoke any English. I successfully managed to get myself locked out into the backyard where she came fetch me a good fifteen odd minutes later, while I stood in the freezing cold. In time I realised that the apartment was on the third floor of a building without a lift. Yay.

[ Note to self: next time, get an apartment on the ground floor, or check for presence of (a working) elevator ]

Settled in, took a nice warm shower, got introduced to her family (a schoolgoing daughter and pint sized terrier called Giant) and set out on my adventures for the day as planned.

Of an impending trip: the countdown begins...

2009-03-28T08:30:00.000+05:30

I always worry myself sick before traveling.

It probably has a lot to do with those invariable travel disasters I've landed up in (for e.g., the worst black out of over 4 decades in New York City within 24 hours of my landing there, missing flights for reasons beyond my control, flat tires, car breakdowns in the middle of nowhere... etc., etc.).

I shouldn't even go there and jinx it for myself this time (*happy thoughts, happy thoughts*).

Back to the point, I've planned it fairly well this time (in my opinion at least), have my bags packed (traveling relatively light), visas, tickets and (most) hotel reservations in place. Should be fairly good to go.

London, France - here I come!!!