Archive | October 2016

Chained to my Laptop Preparing for Invited Lecture at Cambridge University

Oct11

Monday, October 10, 2016

London

Usual Morning Rituals:

My day began with the knowledge that I had to draft and prepare for the invited lecture I am to give on Wednesday in the graduate seminar at the Center of South Asian Studies at Cambridge University. I awoke at 7.00 pm (rather late for me but I also woke up in-between and was awake for an hour), blogged a bit, caught up with routine email and had my breakfast–fruit and nut muesli with passion fruit and mango yogurt and decaff coffee. While munching, I watched Making a Murderer (as I am now hooked on to the series once again). I next showered and shampooed my hair and while it dried, I got down to serious work.

Working on my Lecture:

From 10.00 am until 1.00 pm, with a pause in-between while I chatted with my Dad in India and Facetimed with Llew (I gave him a proud tour of my lovely new flat), I worked on my paper. It went faster than I thought as I gleaned most of the information from the Introduction to my book.

At 1.00 pm, I stepped out of the house to buy a couple of items I needed from Boots and Morrison’s and ended up having bought Fawlty Towers—The Complete Series from the Octavia charity shop for 4 pounds–what a steal! In the end, my onlky souvenirs from this stay in the UK will be a bunch of British DVDs.

Bach home, I had lunch: the other half of my sausage and onion roll (from my Saturday pub lunch with Roz)with lashings of English mustard and a cup of soup.

Then, it was back to my drawing board again and this time as I re-drafted and proof-read, I also created a Powerpoint presentation to go with my talk. I was quite satisfied with it when I finished at 6.00 pm. at which time I brewed myself a cup of tea and ate it with Carrot Cake from MandS–unfortunately, I found the cinnamon in it too strong and the cream cheese frosting too sweet–not a fave!

It was just beautiful outside today–the sun was bright, the sky cloudless and the temperature very comfortable if you were well-clad. At 6.00 pm (when it had already turned dark), I got a text from Greg who was supposed to deliver a TV set here–to tell me he had become tied up with his little boy and that his father would drop it off the next day.

I contemplated going off for a bus ride–but then I decided to get back to my laptop and continue working. And I did that till at least 9.00 pm, when I had my dinner (cup of soup with ravioli with tomato and herb sauce). I sent off the Powerpoint presentation to the chap at Cambridge who is in-charge of setting it up for me and quickly received an acknowledgement from him.

I fell asleep at about 10.15 pm after reading a bit more of On Chesil Beach.

It is amazing how sometimes what appears like a most uninteresting day can actually be the most productive. Tomorrow, I shall review my talk, re-draft and make changes, if necessary, and then go to my office to print it all out.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

 

Sunday Mass at ‘Farm Street Church’ and Visiting Florence Nightingale Museum

Oct10

Sunday, October 9, 20167

London

Having accomplished my weekend goal (getting out of town to see some place new) yesterday when my friend Roz and I drove to Runnymede, I decided to enjoy a leisurely Sunday in London before the pressure of the coming week hit me. So it was very casually (after waking up early to blog and catch up with email) that I had my breakfast and showered and decided to go for the 10.30 am Mass to Westminster Cathedral. Only when I reached Ealing Tube station, I discovered that there was a delay in the departure of the train as someone had messed up two of the seats and the railway’s entire cleaning crew seemed to have been deputed to clean it up. It took forever as they sprayed and scrubbed and did things with rolls of plastic sheeting! Needless to say, this delay would have made me very late for Mass—so thinking on my feet or on my butt (for I was seated in the train!) I decided to catch the 11.00 am Mass at The Church of the Immaculate Conception which is also known as Farm Street Church.

So I got off at Oxford Street and changed to the Victoria Line that took me to Greek Park from where I crossed Berkeley Square on foot and arrived at my destination well in time.

Mass at The Church of the Immaculate Conception:

I have forgotten how gorgeous the interior of this church is—it is pure Gothic Revival. In fact, it is a cross between the Gothic and the Baroque—for while it has a soaring nave and magnificent fan vaulting on the two side aisles, it is an exuberant burst of color and texture in the decoration employed—marble pillars, a stone carved reredos, painting on the ceiling, loads of statuary. There is so much visual excitement when you enter that you are kept awed for ages.

Then, as if this were not enough, it happened to be a Sung Latin Mass—and you had to hear the choir to believe it! I mean they were truly sensational. It was also very easy to follow as they had handy Latin Mass Books that you could pick up at the entrance and with those aids, I found myself fully engrossed. Of course, the Readings and the sermon were in English—but everything else was in Latin. The Church was quite respectably packed and I was happy to see a mixture of ages—from young to very old, participating in the service.

After Mass, we were invited to join in for coffee in the Rectory. It was there that I made friends with a very nice lady from Pimlico called Angela who then introduced me to one of the priests, Fr. Chris, who was a fine conversationalist. With a cup of coffee in my hand and something called a Tunnock’s cake (it was a chocolate covered marshmallow on a biscuit base—absolutely delicious!), I circulated and met a few people. The good priests of this church, Jesuits all, were pleased to know that I am from Fairfield, Connecticut, where their famous Fairfield University is located.

On the Bus to the Florence Nightingale Museum:

One of my goals for the day was to visit the Florence Nightingale Museum—because now that I am back in London, I have a few sights I want to complete ‘seeing’. Anyway, I got into the C1 bus near Green Park and hopped off at Victoria and from there I took a 211 across Westminster Bridge that dropped me off at St. Thomas’ Hospital on the South Bank in whose basement the museum is located. I paid the entry fee of 7.50 pounds and then tried to focus on what is a very small museum. However, when I discovered that they had no café inside, I decided to go out and find some food. I was directed to the Main Entrance of St. Thomas’ Hospital where there was an MandS Simply Food from where I bought Scotch eggs that I ate there before I began my exploration of the museum.

By the end of the visit, I was quite annoyed by the place. For one thing, it is really small—one wonders what they are charging 7.50 pounds for—there was really very little to see. A few items that personally belonged to the Lady with the Lamp were the highlight for me—her fire screen, a chair and a parasol. Several diaries, journals and medical note books that she maintained in her time and that are written in her own handwriting in faded sepia ink were also valuable. There were examples of the kind of clothing she might have worn in her time. Another big highlight for me was the actual kind of lamp she would have carried with her as she made her rounds among wounded soldiers during the Crimean War. Artists who depicted her presented the wrong sort of lamp in their paintings—a more English-style one, whereas she would have used a typical Turkish-style one as she was based a lot in Scutari and Balaclava.

What I found best about the museum was the information about her family life, her relationship with her sister, Parthenope, why she turned to nursing and how much she did for the profession. There is a section on Nursing since her time (which was very informative) but was shown mainly through pictures. I did not know, for instance, that she was very active in the Nursing School at St. Thomas’ Hospital—which is why the museum is located in its premises. There is also a small section on Edith Cavell who was trained in the same school and became a renowned nurse herself.

Finally, the museum contains a lovely section on Peter Pan and J.M. Barrie’s bequest of all proceeds of the play to the Great Ormond Children’s Hospital because he was closely associated with it during his own lifetime. There is marvelous information in this section on how Barrie came to write the play, his relationship with the children of the widowed Sylvia Llewellyn-Davies and her boys, his special affinity towards suffering children—we all know that for the first performance of Peter Pan in London in 1911 he brought in 25 orphans whose laughter was so loud and so infectious that they completely made the show the hit it became. Over the years, the hospital has gained vast amounts of money (from international productions of the play plus books, film and pantomime versions of it) and although they cannot disclose how much, let’s just say it has almost single-handedly kept the work of the hospital going.

Most annoying about the museum were the gun-throated parents who arrived with children and behaved as if they were in their own personal living-rooms. They read curatorial notes so loudly as to be a huge disturbance to everyone else around and interacted with their children incomplete disregard of the fact that there were other patrons inside who were trying to concentrate on what they were seeing and reading. With no guards in any of the ‘rooms’, it was impossible to seek assistance to get them to quieten down. Overall, among the many museums I have visited in London, I certainly liked this one the least. The staff at the front desk were also not the slightest bit friendly. The one who sold me a ticket in the afternoon was snooty, distant and cold. I have to wonder why they take on ‘people-oriented’ jobs when they barely have the skills to be civil.

Tea with Friends in Chelsea:

It was while I was in the museum that I received a phone call from my friends Michael and Cynthia in Chelsea. I had intended to visit them to pick up some items that I had left in their home for safekeeping. Now that I live in a flat that has super security in a neighborhood that makes me feel completely safe, there is no need for them to hang on to my things. I took a bus across Westminster Bridge, then nipped into the Circle Line tube to get to their stop at Sloan Square from where I walked to their place. It had started drizzling and it is coming home to me that since it’s rather unusually warm and sunny summer is past, England has returned to its regular weather pattern of rain at any time! It might be best for me to keep a small brolly always in my bag!

I had a lovely hot cup of lemony tea with a biscuit at Cynthia’s place where I stayed for over an hour. We lefttogether  at about 6.00 pm as Cynthia wished to attend Benediction at nearby Holy Trinity Church and I hopped into the Tube to get back home.

Dinner and Some Blogging at Home:

Just before I got to my apartment, I rang the doorbell of my neighbors’ flat as my landlord Stuart had told me they were from India. I met both Anu (short for Arnawaz—how pleased I was to discover that she is a Parsi!) and Vikram and their little one, Jesmine. Our visit was brief but they were lovely—young, warm and welcoming and wanted to know if there was anything they could help me with! I am sure I will see them again and get to know them better.

I spent the rest of the evening with my laptop as I caught up with more blog posts. About 9. 00 pm, I stopped to have dinner (my leftover Curry Laksa from Hare and Tortoise—so so delicious I could eat it daily!) and while I ate, I continued watching Making a Murderer on Netflix which is getting more intriguing as it goes along. At about 10.30, after reading a bit more of On Chesil Beach, I switched the light off and went to sleep.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Running Off to Runnymede with Roz and Playing Catch-Up at Home

Oct9

Saturday, October 8, 2016

London

Preparing for a Day Trip:

I was glad to spend most of the day with a friend as Chriselle’s departure has left me aching for her and for company in general. My friend Rosemary (Roz) and I had made these plans ages ago–that we would spend this Saturday on a day trip somewhere–preferably to a National Trust property as she is a member. Only even as the day dawned, the two of us had been so busy (she at work) and me with my move and Chriselle’s departure, that we were simply at a loss as to where we should go. She suggested Grey’s House near Henley (but I had been to Henley very recently), I suggested Ely Catehdral (she said it was too hard to fight traffic through the north of London before getting on the motorway), I also suggested Bateman’s, Home of Rudyard Kipling (she said it was also too far for the limited time we had) and Ely Cathedral (she said it was great but too far–as she needed to get back home by 4. 00 pm). In the end, she suggested Runnymede and since neither one of us had been there, well…that was where we went.

Accordingly, I awoke before 6.00 am to catch up with my blog and travelogue on my travels in Eastern Europe and had my breakfast (fruit and nut muesli with yogurt plus a croissant with peanut butter and coffee). By the time we spoke, it was already 9. 00 and I had not yet showered. We made plans to meet outside Sloan Square at 10.00 am but when I got to Ealing Broadway Tube station, there was no train for about 10 minutes–and when I got to Notting Hill Gate, there were no trains running towards the city. I needed to take a train going backwards to Earl’s Court and change there–long story short, the London Tube service is horribly aggravating on weekends and one must factor in far more time than usual to get anywhere. Live and learn. I called Roz, told her I was running dreadfully late and by the time I did reach her, it was almost 10. 45. What a dreadful journey!

Still, once we got together, time flew as we chattered on non-stop and she expertly negotiated her car out of the city and towards Heathrow airport because Runnymede (as I discovered) is not very far from there. Throughout the journey, I wondered if we were on a wild goose chase as I recalled what my friend Sue had told me. She had made the journey to Runnymede by public transport with her English friend and was put down by a bus in the middle of a roundabout. She said that all they could see was this endless field stretching out before them along which they had to trudge on a horridly hot day. In the end, she said, there was simply nothing to see there. I reported this to Roz–who had expected a palace or a house on the premises. She became less optimistic as we neared the venue–but, in the end, our excursion was far from fruitless.

Arriving and Exploring Runnymede:

As everyone knows. Runnymede, on the banks of the Thames, near Maidenhead and in the county of Surrey, was the venue where perhaps the greatest historical event in British history and one of the greatest events in World History occurred in 1215. King John, who had overstepped his position, was forced by his barons to sign a charter that limited his powers and placed more decision-making in the hands of his people. The King, it appears, signed it, but hoped to get it annulled by the Pope–something that never happened. The barons grew from strength to strength and British monarchy has since that time had its powers heavily curtailed. For the rest of the world, the Magna Carta, a single sheet of parchment written in Latin and sealed with the King’s seal at the bottom, became the definitive document on which all important legal and constitutional edicts have been modeled–including the Constitution of countries as varied as the US and India. Copies of the Magna Carta are on permanent display in several parts of the UK (the British Library in London and in Salisbury Cathedral, for instance, where I have seen them on many occasions) and last year (in 2015) when it faced its 800th anniversary, a great number of celebrations and commemoration services were held. It would have been nice to have visited Runnymede last year–but Sue was right. Getting there by public transport is a bear. Having a friend with a car drive you there is really the only way to go.

Not much has changed at the venue in 800 years–the River Thames still flows placidly only steps from the vast Meadow in which the signing was done. It is a wide green field filled with placid brown cows who act as natural lawn mowers. The property is maintained by the National Trust, but there is no entrance fee as it is simply an open-air venue (there is no palace or house to visit, although there is a small Tea Room).

What there really is to see at Runnymede is a series of Memorial Monuments that signify various important unions between countries. For instance, there is a gazebo or canopy that was constructed by the American Bar Association in 1957. From time to time, its members return to mark their allegiance to the document upon which America’s legal system is based. There are plaques around the monument stating the dates on which these re-commemorations have occurred–the last one being last year. Six oak trees were planted around the property with two more added by the current Queen and the Prime Minister of India in 1994.

There is also a Kennedy Memorial that Roz and I found very interesting. After President Kennedy was assassinated, the UK thought it would be fitting to create a memorial to mark his sterling Presidency. Runnymede was chosen as the spot because of his great devotion to the principles of freedom and liberty for all men. Hence, the Kennedy Memorial is a series of beautifully crafted Portuguese stone steps that lead to a massive Portland stone slab on which a dedication to the President has been engraved. A hawthorn tree was planted nearby to signify his religious–Roman Catholicism. The entire area–from the time one passes through the wooden stile to the slab–is land gifted to the USA. So when you pass the stile, you are technically on American soil. It was good to return home again (even if briefly). We had a few raindrops that appeared from out of nowhere while we were in this venue. Perhaps President Kennedy was weeping at the mockery that the American elections have become on the day that the damning tapes recording Trump’s deplorable attitudes towards women were revealed to the world.

Visiting the Air Forces Memorial:

Not too far away, although one needs to climb a hill called Cooper’s Hill (steps are well embedded in the slope) is the rather forbidding edifice of the Air Forces Memorial. Although it is easily accessible from Runnymede Meadow, it is technically in Englefield Green in Egham, Surrey. Roz and I crossed the meadow with difficulty as the cattle that eat the grass are heavy and in slushy soil their hooves make very deep indentations on which there is the great risk of twisting an ankle. The climb up Cooper’s Hill is not so challenging as the gradient is gentle and you have the occasional pleasure of picking and eating wild blackberries–now mostly dried up on the bushes. But it did take up almost 45 minutes to reach the venue from the field.

The Air Forces Memorial, designed by Edward Maufe, commemorates the lives of over 20,000 British and Commonwealth soldiers who died for King and Country in the two World Wars. It is a substantial, solid monument designed around a green quadrangle in the fashion of medieval cloisters–there are arched corridors through which one walks while passing through walls on which the names of every single one of these 20,000 odd soldiers in engraved. That task alone was a mammoth one and it is amazing that such a place exists. On the roof of the cloisters are seals and crests of the various regiments–I even caught an Indian one featuring the Ashoka Pillar and three lions on it and the names of several Indian air force personnel who gave their lives for the cause of freedom from Fascism and the Nazi scourge. There is also the crescent moon and star crest signifying the contribution of Pakistanis and I did see the engraved name of Inayat Khan as well. At several spots, we found tributes of flowers, poppies, poems, photographs, left behind by recent visitors who still affectionately remember a relative long gone on his birthday or death anniversary.

One of these tributes reduced both Roz and me to tears–it was left by the great grandson of an airman who died just before the D-Day Landings at Normandy in 1944–his son was born four months after he passed away. More than sixty years later, his memory is being kept alive by the great-grandson who never even knew him. The story was so poignant because the airman was the son of a British convict who had been sent to Australia for which he never forgave his country. He was so upset when his son left Australia to join the British air force that he never even shook his hand when he left Australia for training in the UK. He was sent to the battlefields with just three weeks of training. When his aircraft was hit by an enemy shell, he had to abandon it over water and was drowned at sea.

There are steps that lead up to the terraced roof of this memorial at its highest point. Roz and I climbed them to receive stirring views of the Barking and Surrey countryside. In the distance, we could see the Control Tower of Heathrow airport on one side as planes came in to land every half a minute. On the other side, we could see the grand soaring silhouette of Windsor Castle and the roofs of Eton College, the famed boy’s school on the banks of the Thames. Just for the views alone, it is worth visiting this monument. On a clear day, they are probably far better–but although it was cloudy, we had fairly decent ones ourselves. We took many pictures and commented on the fact that not much might have changed in 800 years since Magna Carta was signed–as there are no buildings or skyscrapers anywhere in the surrounding areas.

More recently, there was a dedication of the spot and the building by Queen Elizabeth who arrived there with her husband and her late mother, Their signatures in the Visitor’s Book are proudly displayed as is the key that she was given by the architect. We, more humble visitors, could also sign a Visitors’ Book. It is amazing how many people come to this little-known spot (I would imagine that the kin of those who died and are immortalized here would be aware of this place, but few others would even know it exists). There is a peace and quiet to the area (as is fitting) and beautiful manicured lawns that lead to its entrance. Both Roz and I found this monument far more engaging than Runnymede itself. If my friend Sue had discovered it, she would probably not have found her excursion to be so much in vain.

Lunch in Windsor:

By this time it was well past 1.00 pm and both of us turned our thoughts to lunch. No doubt the little Tea Room run by the National Trust would have served a sandwich, but we decided to get to Windsor to find something to eat. And it was there, in the Three Tuns Pub close to Old Windsor that we settled down for pretty light lunches–a BLT sandwich for Roz, a sausage and onion marmalade sandwich for me with chips and salad. I also had a half pint of Guinness as it is rarely that I get the opportunity to get to a pub and find draft stout. About an hour later, we returned to Roz’s car and started our drive home. Roz dropped me off at Earl’s Court where I hopped into a Tube that took me back home. Fortunately, this time round, it was a much less stressful journey.

A Relaxing Evening at Home:

As I was almost falling asleep in the car on the way back, I decided to take a little nap as soon as I got home–which I did. I am really thriving on the energy of Ealing and lapping it up. It is firing me up in ways I had well imagined–and seeing the way it has affected by psyche for the better is simply marvelous.

I spent the rest of the evening, catching up on my blog as I brewed myself a pot of tea and ate a chocolate éclair. I also settled all my papers which had faced great disarray during my move. Now that I have everything well sorted, I feel much more at ease. I also drafted several blog posts and managed to upload a few–all of which had to do with our travels in Eastern Europe. I still have several to go, but at 9. 30, I stopped to have dinner. I boiled water for some ravioli that I bought from Morrisons and together with a bottled tomato and herb sauce, it made a splendid dinner that I ate as I watched a TV show called Still Game–about a bunch of old codgers in Glasgow. Just their accents and intonation alone make me laugh (and the plots are just as wild). I am still awaiting the installation of a TV set which is imminent–but for the moment, my laptop will suffice.

It was about 11.00 pm that I settled down to do some reading before turning out the light. From Roz, I have borrowed On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan to re-read and it was the sheer beauty of his writing that saw me off to bed.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Au Revoir Chriselle, Lunch with Stuart and a Pub Quiz and Curry Supper at Ealing Cricket Club

Oct8

Friday, October 7, 2016

London

It is still a novelty to wake up in this gorgeous flat. It is also a novelty to wake up with company—albeit Chriselle’s. It is grand to have another human presence in my home and to make small talk with someone in the mornings. Sadly, all good things must come to an end and Chriselle returned to Los Angeles today via Gatwick airport. But we had the most amazing times together and savored every second of each other’s company because, as we grow older, such leisurely times became rare and more precious.

Best of all, it was a thrill to discover my new neighborhood of Ealing in Chriselle’s company and to revel in the little luxuries of my new home. It is early days yet, but I will tell you this: it is a 180 degree difference—like day and night. I LOVE this place—both the location (Ealing Broadway was buzzing at 11.00 pm when Chriselle and I got home on the Tube after seeing a play at the West End last night) and the accommodation (it is a converted flat in a Victorian house dating from the mid-1800s).  My landlord Stuart, is an architect who works with Norman Foster’s firm in London and travels around the world supervising global projects—need I say more? He has done an interior conversion that would be the envy of design magazine editors. My one-bedroom flat is huge, has period details (marble fireplaces in living room and bedroom, crown molding and plaster decoration on the ceiling) combined with a completely Modernist aesthetic (a brand-new stainless steel kitchen, a gigantic drop down 70 mm TV screen that connects to my laptop, a combo washer-dryer—few British homes have dryers, by the way—a deluxe hotel-quality round bath tub with jacuzzi and generous rain shower and dimmers on all lights!). It is bright, airy (and well-aired), has sunlight streaming in from huge glass-fronted windows, and overlooks a park (Haven Green). I really do feel as if I have died and gone to Heaven! Thank you God!

Meanwhile, together Chriselle and I have scoured stores literally on my doorstep—Marks and Spencer department store, plus high street chains such as Accessorize, Monsoon, H&M and Zara are all around the corner! I have a selection of three huge supermarkets from which to shop—Morrison’s, Sainsbury and the lush Food Hall of M and S—all seconds away. My home is located on Haven Green, a huge park that is filled all day with dog walkers, strollers and joggers. My Tube station is literally steps away from me (I can see it from my front door) and a huge bus depot skirts it. Adjoining my block of Victorian houses is a stone church from which I can hear bells peal! The area is vibrant, diverse, cosmopolitan, ‘happening’—my idea of London! And for all this, I am paying the same rent I paid in the East End of London. Truly, moving was a no-brainer for me and I really do feel I lucked out big-time.

Chriselle and I had intended to take a walk around the neighborhood before her departure, but she was too tied up with packing and getting set to leave London. My landlord Stuart arrived with a plumber to take care of some urgent work. I met him for the first time and as we chatted and got to know each other, I was completely charmed by his talent as an architect, his focus and his demeanor. What a lovely young man! I do, of course, know his Dad Cecil, a physician, who has been a friend of mine for years—but I had never met Cecil’s children. Chriselle too enjoyed meeting Stuart as they found a lot in common to chat about—mainly Stuart’s interest in acting and in audio-visual entertainment (hence, the gigantic drop-down TV screen in his home!). I offered him a coffee while I cleared up our breakfast things: we’d had croissants with cream cheese and toast with peanut butter over raspberry and cranberry tea.

Then, quite suddenly, Chriselle managed to pull a muscle in her shoulders and spent some time lying horizontal on the hardwood floor while I applied an Ibuprofen ointment on her shoulder blades. After a hot shower, she felt much better. I too showered (we are still unable to get over the thick and generous rain-like shower head in our massive round jacuzzi bathtub) and then it was time to leave with her. She had carried sandwiches for her lunch—so off we went on the Tube at 12 noon to get her 1.05 pm Easybus from West Brompton to Gatwick airport.

Saying Goodbye to Chriselle:

It was hard to say goodbye—for both of us—as neither one of us has any idea when we will see each other again. That’s the most painful part of partings—the unknowing! But being the mature adults we are, we focused on the great times we’d just had together, said our goodbyes and at Lillie Road outside West Brompton Tube station, we found the Easybus waiting and inside she hopped. And then she was away and I returned on the Tube back to Ealing.

Lunch with Stuart:

Stuart was still home when I arrived and was just finishing up bits of work that he had scheduled for the morning. He invited me to join him for lunch as both of us were starving. We ended up going to one of my favorite eatery chains in London, The Hare and Tortoise—a Japanese chain that is inexpensive and simply the yummiest. I always have the Curry Laksa when I am there—it is a massive bowl of noodles, bean sprouts, prawns and chicken in a coconut milk-based curried chicken soup that is mammothly filling and super delicious. Stuart had udon noodles with sushi and prawn tempura. Our lunch offered more of an opportunity to discuss international architects that we love from Norman Foster (for whom he works) to Zaha Hadid, from Jean Nouvel to Gaudi. Stuart thinks that the Cathedral of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona is simply the world’s most awesome building. It was a great pleasure chatting with him and I truly enjoyed our time together. Best of all, I am thrilled beyond words that The Hare and the Tortoise is just steps away from my new home, across Haven Green. Anytime I feel like a Curry Laksa, I can nip right in!

Quiet Afternoon and Evening Until…

I looked forward to a quiet evening spent catching up with my blog, sorting through my papers, responding to urgent email, etc. and I was in the process of doing just that accompanied by the pleasure of a hot pot of tea and cake (for I had nipped out earlier in the evening to get some goodies from MandS) when I got an unexpected phone call. My friend Cecil, Stuart’s Dad, who lives ten minutes away, called to find out if I was free to join him and a few friends for supper at his nearby Club. Boy, being alone quite so suddenly after Chriselle’s departure, was I just! And what a fascinating evening it turned out to be! A true exposure to British Cultural Studies!

A Pub Quiz and ‘Curry Supper’ in a Cricket Club:

Cecil’s invitation was to the Ealing Cricket Club, a few blocks away from my new home. He rang my door bell promptly at 7. 20 pm and together we hopped into a car around the corner in which his friends Mona and Girish Shah were seated—they were part of the quiz team that would participate in the annual Club fund-raiser. Within minutes, we were chatting companionably with each other. We arrived at the Club, parked our car and entered the gymkhana-like atmosphere of an old English Club where Cecil is a member—a first-time for me.

For the rest of the evening, I gave myself up to the pleasure of the pub quiz—something about which I had heard so much and was very pleased to participate in. There were about twelves tables with teams of varied sizes. We were joined by Kate, an Englishwoman, a little later—so our team comprised 5 people. There were about 10 rounds of quizzing questions in different categories: Pot Luck, Entertainment, Sports, and the like—with 10 questions in each category. Questions were called out by the MC. Each table received a ‘pack’ of sheets with space for the answers on them. And then we were off. I have to say that we did not do too badly overall. I was culturally ignorant about a lot of the questions but I managed to answer a few!

Halfway through the quiz, we stopped for supper that was laid out at one end of the room. Much to my amusement, it was a ‘Curry Supper’—featuring Chicken Curry and a Vegetarian version, served over rice (which I refused) and naans. There was also yogurt, a green salad and a number of pickles and chutneys—all of which I found to be a very English version of an Indian curry meal and a fascinating exposure to British Cultural Studies. For example, in India, we would never present a bowl of plain yogurt at a meal—it would always be a raita! Nor would we ever present a bowl of plain salad greens—it would always be dressed! Other than at Parsee weddings, you would not see a sweet-hot mango chutney (such as Sharwood’s) at an Indian buffet—although you would find hot pickles! So everything was quite amusing and entertaining to me, as I observed each aspect of British Cricket Club culture.

After supper, the quiz continued (five more rounds of it). Every team was serious and focused and competitive. My team had informed me that they have always come last. Well, this year, we ranked about 8 of out 13—not quite rock bottom! Indeed, we failed quite respectably!

By 11.00 pm, the Shahs dropped me off at the corner on Haven Green (still hopping at that hour—which was a huge comfort to me) and I was home a few minutes later. It had been an eventful day and I was glad I had my mind taken away from Chriselle’s departure and my feeling of sudden bereavement by this exciting quiz night. I was also delighted to make friends with the Shahs whom I hope to see again as they live not far away in Wembley.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

‘Funnest’ Last Day of Vacation for Chriselle: Abbey Road Crossing, London Eye, Afternoon Tea and Seeing Kenneth Branagh at the West End.

Oct7

Thursday, October 6, 2016

London

It was Chriselle’s last day of vacation and she was delighted to have the opportunity to spend it in London. She decided to do all the things she had never done before—or mostly. After a rather leisurely start to the day, we had brekkie (croissants and peanut butter with salmon and dill cream cheese and decaff coffee). It was her idea that we should discover my new neighborhood of Ealing Broadway together and I thought it would be great to have her company as I scoured it.

By 11.30 am after showers, we left the house and made our way past Morrison’s (my new local supermarket) to Broadway—which is basically the High Street. How thrilling to see a huge Marks and Spencer on the next block! We walked to the local branch of HSBC to get some money out of the ATM machine and then found a thrift shop from which Chriselle wished to purchase a paperback for her return flight home tomorrow. By 12.00 noon, we were at the Tube station and I was buying my monthly Travelcard. Much to my delight, I was served by an Anglo-Indian railway employee named Clayton who was delighted when I asked if he was an Anglo-Indian. He said that from my name he was about to ask if I was a Goan from Bombay! How cool was that! We had a lovely chat and then I was off with my new monthly Tube and bus pass.

Off to the Beatles’ Crossing at Abbey Road:

We took the Central Line to Bond Street from where we switched to the Jubilee Line as our destination was St. John’s Wood as Chriselle was keen to get her Abbey Road Beatles Crossing picture. Once at the subway, we walked down Grove End Road (I knew the area well as I had lived there on two occasions during previous stays in London at the home of my friend Raquel on Abbey Road). Chriselle had such a blast as she strode across the street in imitation of the Fab Four. There were a lot of other tourists around with the same idea but because the day was windy and it was uncomfortable to stride in the cold, most people got their snaps snappily. I took her picture while she strode across and then we had a passer-by get the two of us. It was a really fun way to start our day.

After I took a picture outside Neville Court, the building where I had stayed and that overlooked the crossing, we left. We took the Tube next to Westminster for the next item on our agenda.

Off to Ride the London Eye:

At Westminster, Chriselle was enchanted to catch her first glimpse of Big Ben as we emerged from the Tube. As we were both peckish, we picked up samosas (veg and lamb ones) from a local Indian shop and munching those, we made our way across the bridge to arrive at the booking office for the London Eye. It was great fun to be part of the tourist energy in the city and to get into queues for tickets when the place was not quite as mobbed as it had been during the summer. In about ten minutes, we got our tickets (25 pounds each) and were directed towards a theater to watch a short 4 minute 4D film on London which was a fantastic experience for both of us.

Less than a half hour later, we were in a pod in the London Eye and we thoroughly enjoyed our experience. The light was perfect—it was a very bright day with blue skies and fluffy clouds and a sun that popped in and out of them offering picture opportunities in varying light modes. Of course, we took a ton of pictures together of the city from varied angles. After waiting for years to ride the London Eye, I can say that it was certainly worth the cost and the wait. An hour later, we were back on terra firma again and striding off to our next location.

Afternoon Tea at the Welcomm Collection:

Both Chriselle and I love tea and we both love the very British concept of Afternoon Tea. Having been to the Welcomm Collection which is a museum in Euston, about a month ago, I had discovered their Tea Room called The Welcomm Kitchen on the second floor. Afternoon Tea there is quite definitely the most reasonably priced in the entire city and I had resolved to take Chriselle there when she visited London.

Accordingly, we arrived there just before 3.00pm and ordered the Afternoon Tea for Two people which included the works: scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, a selection of finger sandwiches (ham and cheese, smoked salmon, cucumber and cream cheese and egg salad) and a lovely array of tiny pastries). Chriselle chose the ginger and lemon tea while I had the elderflower and lemon tea and they were both superb. Sipping tea in a lovely quiet atmosphere was the perfect way to chat about our recent travels and our plans going forward. It was grand to have this down time—quality time that we do not often get to spend together. About two hours later, we were leaving the museum and getting into a bus opposite University College, London.

Examining the Auto-Icon of Jeremy Bentham at UCL:

Since our bus stop was just outside UCL, I took Chriselle inside the main campus of University College, London, to show her one of the most curious sights in the city—the auto-icon of economist Jeremy Bentham. As most folks know, he was the 1ate 18th-early 19th century economist who propounded the theory of Utilitarianism that advocated ‘The greatest happiness of the greatest number’. Well-connected with UCL, he was one of the Trustees and greatest patrons of the college. In his will, he stipulated that his body should be embalmed and preserved in the premises of the college. Hence, his body is seated on a chair clothed in a casual outfit and gazing at generations of students that have gone through the portals. At one time, students had vandalized the case, taken off his head and played football with it. The head is now stored in a safe and a wax head had been placed on his body in the side corridor.

Chriselle was absolutely dumbstruck by what she saw and upon hearing the story, she wanted to leave right away. She found the entire story “way too creepy”—just as I had done the first time I had seen it.  Hence, we did not spend too much time there, but hopped into the first 29 bus that trundled along to take us to Trafalgar Square.

Off to see Museum Highlights:     

We still had time to kill before the final item on our agenda—the Big Surprise I had in store! Since we were at Trafalgar Square, it was a no-brainer to jump into the National Portrait Gallery so that Chriselle could see some of the newer portraits—she was keen to see Judi Dench and Maggie Smith. Sadly, there was a special Picasso exhibition on and so the portraits had been squirreled away. However, she did see the new one of the Duchess of Cambridge by Paul Emsley—which, like so many folks, she thought was terrible for it made her look so aged and so grey. We also looked at a few other portraits before moving on next door.

In the National Gallery, I showed Chriselle some of my special canvasses—the entire room devoted to Carlo Crivelli, for example, in the Sainsbury section; my very favorite painting in the museum (Courtyard of a House in Delft by Pieter de Hooch); Van Dyck’s equestrian portrait of Charles I; the Wilton Diptych; The Ambassadors by Hans Holbein.  By this stage, we were both tired and decided to go somewhere to rest.

Hot Chocolate at Amorina:

Chriselle had never tasted hot chocolate from Amorina—one of my favorite things to do in Manhattan is to get hot chocolate from there. She got a Caramel one and I got an Aztec-studded with cinnamon and chilli. Since it was a cold night, we were both grateful for the pick-me-up and about an hour later, we made our way towards the big surprise

Seeing Kenneth Branagh in The Entertainer at the West End:

By this time, since we were hovering around the West End, Chriselle guessed that the surprise had something to do with a play—however, she did not know which one. When we walked just a few steps ahead and entered the Garrick Theater at a little past 7.00 pm, to see Kenneth Branagh take the lead role in John Osborne’s The Entertainer, her joy knew no bounds as Osborne is one of her favorite playwrights and Branagh is one of her favorite actors. Suffice it so say that we spent an absolutely fabulous evening in the theater especially after I discovered that two other well-known actors were also in the play: Greta Sachhi who has been a permanent fixture in several films by Merchant-Ivory and Sophie McSheara who played Daisy in Downton Abbey. They took the two female leads in the play and they did a fine job—although McSheara’s voice is much too thin for such a powerful role. Overall, we had such a great time together.

On the Tube Back Home to Ealing:

I was keen to see how long it would take me to get home to Ealing from the West End and how crowded the train would be by the time we came to the last stop as I would likely be going to the theater on my own and was afraid of being the only one on the train at that late hour. As it turned out, I need not have worried. The trains were packed and at least 1/3 full by the time we reached Ealing Broadway. In fact, the area outside the Tube station was buzzing although it was almost 11.00 pm and my spirits soared. Since my flat is just across the Tube station, I need not worry at all about getting home after dark as I had done when I lived at Bethnal Green. It is great that I had Chriselle to accompany me during this experiment and that I had her company while I broke into my new digs.

By the time we fell asleep for our second night in my new home, I was convinced that I had made the right decision in moving. I was certain I would adore my new home and neighborhood and to get to know it really well as the weeks passed by.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

 

Back in T’Smoke Again: Its Moving Day for Me! Hiya Ealing!

Oct5

Tuesday-Wednesday, October 4-5, 2016

London

Chriselle and I arrived from Dubrovnik at Luton airport (a first time for both of us) just after midnight. Although we hoped to clear Immigration speedily, I had the chattiest officer ever—he was simply thrilled that I was originally from Bombay and loving the city as much as he does, he would not let me leave the counter! When he finally let me through, we took a National Express coach to Victoria that flew through the dark streets and then hopped into a bus that dropped us off at Battersea High Street where my friend Rosemary (Roz) left us a key that allowed us to enter her home at about 3.00 am. She had kept two beautiful guest rooms ready for us and within seconds, we were both out like a light!

The next morning, over Roz’s excellent tea loaf studded with tea-soaked raisins and hot coffee, we had a natter. She was thrilled to meet Chriselle for the first time and wanted to know all about our travels in Eastern Europe. At 9.00 am, we left as she proceeded to work and Chriselle and I took a bus to my office at NYU where my belongings were stashed. It was not long before he hailed a smart London black cab that took us to my new ‘digs’ at Ealing Broadway. By noon, we were meeting Nancy, a gorgeous Sicilian, wife of my friend Greg, who was renting his brother Stuart’s flat to me. She led us in, handed over keys and fled as she had an appointment in Knightsbridge.

Chriselle and I spent the next few hours unpacking our cases and doing two loads of laundry (after we figured out how the washer-dryer worked). As Chriselle napped, I took the opportunity to unpack my suitcases and was simply delighted at the oodles of closet space available to me. We had a very light lunch of croissants and cream cheese with soup that I nipped out to Morrison’s to pick up. I am delighted by the proximity of all the shops to my new flat. I have Morrisons and Sainsburys and M and S all on the same block. It is like having a pantry in my front yard. Plus, right in front of my house is a park—Haven Green. So I do have my little pocket of greenery amidst the urban sprawl. It was a huge pleasure to discover the workings of my glorious new home with Chriselle—to find out together how the appliances worked (although we still have no idea about the drop down TV screen!)

After she felt a bit more rested, we decided to go out for the evening. It was our initial plan to get tickets for the London Eye—as neither one of us had been on it. But when we found that darkness was falling really swiftly over the city, we changed our minds and decided to ride it tomorrow when we have more light. Instead, we decided to follow up on another plan—to go for dinner to Tayyabs, a very well-reputed Punjabi restaurant in the East End—which I had just left! Situated in Whitechapel in the heart of Bangla Town, Tayyabs is known for its North Indian cuisine. Since Chriselle is a pescatarian now, we ordered mainly vegetarian and seafood—paneer tikkas, Fish Amritsari, Karahi King Prawns with vegetable biryani. But since Lamb Korma was the ‘special’ of the day, well, I simply had to try it. Suffice it to say that the food was perhaps the best Indian we have ever eaten. Everything was delectable. While we did order mango lassis, we did not have room for dessert—and we took home hefty doggie bags—enough for dinner the following night.

Back on the Tube to Ealing, we were grateful for an early night as the day had been long and neither one of us had adequate sleep. Tomorrow, we will plan out Chriselle’s last day of vacation in London. It feels grand to be in London again and moving into this spacious one-bedroom with its period details but its Modernist aesthetic has done absolute wonders for my psyche. I know I will be absolutely thrilled to live here for the next few months.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Wrapping Up an Exciting Eastern European Tour–From Budva to Dubrovnik to London

Oct5

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Kotor-Dubrovnik-London

We arrived finally at the last day of our travels and although both of us had a terrific time, we were both suffering from sightseeing fatigue and were ready to call it a day. Furthermore, Montenegro appeared like something of an anti-climax to us after the glories of Split and Dubrovnik—so we were not too unhappy to be returning to London.

When I had checked, the previous day, at the bus station to confirm that our tickets from Budva to Dubrovnik would leave at 2. 30 pm, I had a slight shock. There was no bus at 2. 30 and, in fact, our tickets were issued for the 9.30 am bus. Well, what a good thing I had checked! Overall, we found the folks manning public services in Montenegro unhelpful and very surly. The language was an issue and since they did not speak it too well, we all struggled to make ourselves understood. So, in a way, we were glad that our bus was leaving at 9. 30, as this mean that we had a good several hours to spend in Dubrovnik, our favorite place, and would be ending our trip on a high note.

Accordingly, we washed, showered, dressed, repacked and came down to the Reception of the Hotel Kangaroo with our bags and went straight to the Restaurant for our buffet breakfast. We basically stocked up well on proteins to keep us going for several hours and, once again, packed a ham and cheese sandwich with us to eat for lunch. Saying bye to the Receptionist and returning our keys, we trudged along to the Bus Station where we arrived at 9.00 am for our 9.30 am bus which left right on schedule. The bus was empty but picked up passengers in Kotor. The three hour bus ride was uneventful and comfortable and after Kotor, the Bay was, of course, stunningly beautiful to peruse from our window and the highlight really of our stay in Montenegro.

Arrival and Final Strolls in Dubrovnik:

On arrival in Dubrovnik at about 12. 30, we decided to spend the last few hours of our time in Croatia in the city we had really grown to love. So we stashed our bags in the Left Luggage locker and took a local bus to the Old Town—once again scrapping together the few kuna we were still carrying with us.

Once in the Old Town, we felt like veterans as we recalled how confused we had been on first arriving there in the dark, a few days previously. This time round, we knew exactly where to go and what to do. We would stroll around, pop into a couple of churches, shoot the breeze in the big open-air squares and then sit by the waterside and contemplate the sheer beauty of this lovely antiquated settlement. And that was exactly what we did. We purchased the last of our souvenirs, used up our kunas by ordering a meal and gelato at a waterfront restaurant before we departed from the city and then retraced our steps back to the bus station to take the 5.30 pm shuttle to the airport which was about 45 minutes away. We reached the airport at about 7.00 pm which was well in time to check in for our Easyjet flight back to London’s Luton airport which was to depart at 10.05 pm. All the time we kept saying how lucky we were that we had the bonus day in Dubrovnik—an unexpected delight.

Departure for London:

It was late and we were tired but with a lot of resting at the airport, we were able to survive the wait for our flight. It was a short flight of just over two hours and we arrived at Luton at about midnight. We had made shuttle bookings on the National Express bus service to get us back to Victoria, where we reached at 1.00 am and about 1. 22 am, along came the 44 bus that took us to Battersea High Street where my friend Roz had concealed her key for us in a hiding place so that we could let ourselves inside. It was then almost 2. 45 and we were ready to crash. Luckily, she had two guest rooms ready so that we had a room each and we really did appreciate that little luxury as we lay down to sleep.

Conclusion:

On the morrow, we would meet Roz who would join us for breakfast and meet Chriselle for the first time…but for the moment, I fell asleep looking back upon an incredible trip with my daughter with whom I do not often get the chance to spend such prolonged periods of quality time. It was a trip we would both savor for a very long time to come and always appreciate. It had introduced us to some amazingly stunning parts of the world and offered a lot of opportunities to sample unique and interesting food and to undertake a plethora of experiences that were different and delightful such as trekking along a river surrounded by mountains, riding a train through subterranean caves filled with strange rock formations, singing under the stars to the accompaniment of a guitarist, boating to an island in the middle of a lake, ringing a Wishing Bell in a spectacular church, going up in a funicular train to a castle at the top of a mountain, scaling the walls of an ancient Town, buying interesting souvenirs in shops and flea markets, interacting with local people in public transport that was usually efficient, crossing international borders several times to have our documents scrutinized, and just gabbing for hours over steaming tea while rain drummed down upon the roof of a cafe. Yes, truly, these are the images that would remain fixed in my mind and which I would call upon often as I tried to process, over the next few weeks, the distinctive experiences we had accumulated on our travels.

Thanks so much for following this travelogue with me. I hope you have enjoyed being an armchair traveler. I have certainly enjoyed having you by my side, if only in spirit.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Dipping into the Adriatic Coast in Montenegro–Coursing Through Kotor, Perast and Budva

Oct5

Monday, October 3, 2016:

Kotor-Perast-Budva (Along the Adriatic Coast)

Easily the best thing about our Hotel Kangaroo in Budva was its magnificent buffet breakfast that offered several choices including many vegetarian options for Chriselle. We washed, showered, dressed and went down to eat at about 8.00 am and had a feast. We even carried a sandwich for lunch made with thick slices of bread and the huge variety of cold cuts and cheese they offered.

Our day was devoted to discovering the more interesting parts of the gorgeous Bay of Kotor that appears like the petals of a flower whose tips jut out into the Adriatic Sea. This meant walking to the Bus station from where we boarded a bus to Kotor—the town that is usually a tourist’s base. It is not a very interesting drive as it goes through the interior—not along the water’s edge. Still, it is a short drive and an in about 20 minutes, we were there.

Discovering Kotor:

From the bus station, you walk about ten minutes to get to the entrance to the huge fortress at Kotor whose walls snake up a mountain like the Great Wall of China. It almost disappears into the mountain side as the walls and the mountain are the same grey. Once you enter the fortress, you are lost, once again, in the feeling of an Old Town. These pockets, common it seems, to all settlements along the Adrtiatic coast, were built centuries ago to offer communal living to the inhabitants. Houses and buildings sit cheek by jowl, there is always a church, a large square in front of it (today, filled with cafes and restaurants, banks or post offices) and a maze of narrow lanes across which houses seem to reach out and kiss one another. We walked through Kotor’s Old Town, pausing often to buy our souvenirs—T-shirts, post-cards, magnets, little gifts for friends, to change money at a bank and to get some euros. We took time to just sit down and enjoy people-watching. The architecture is always fascinating and offers many photo opportunities.

Kotor is also a modern town with the abundant shops that cater exclusively to cruise ship passengers for all the places we visited on this trip (Split, Dubrovnik, Kotor) are part of a very popular route in the Adriatic region. These luxury stores with over-priced designer goods are everywhere and a great way to pass time—although, to be honest, I have rarely seen anyone actually buy anything. We decided to bypass this part of Kotor altogether and head instead to Perast which was described in my Lonely Planet guidebook as a small chunk of Venice that seems to have floated into the Adriatic Sea and attached itself to the Bay of Kotor. Well…who would not want to stroll through a mini-Venice, right? Chriselle was not too enthusiastic. She definitely showed signs, by this stage, of sightseeing fatigue. But I managed to persuade her—we were so close, why not just cover it too?

Perusing Perast:

We were, by this stage, also counting our euros—we had too few and did not want to exchange too much more. Somehow we scraped together the bus fare and boarded one to Perast—which took us about 15 minutes to get there past lovely scenery.

Indeed, Perast did remind us a little bit of Venice with its palazzos, its spire of a church that is visible from afar, its cobbled streets. But sadly, just as we made ourselves comfortable by the water’s edge, with our sandwich lunch, along came a few fat raindrops to ruin our picnic. Spying the awning of a little souvenir shop nearby, we fled under it and Chriselle ended up buying a bottle of lemonade from there—with a delicious bitter lemon flavor that we both enjoyed. We sat there for a long while but our visit to Perast was thoroughly ruined by the rain as there was really nothing much to do in the town.

Its biggest attraction is a boat ride to the two islands that sit in the Adriatic Sea not too far from the town. One of them is a natural island (but that one is closed to the public and boats merely skirt around it); the other is a man-made island that is still a work in progress. On it stands the lovely domed Church of Our Lady of the Rocks which is quite spectacular inside. We chose, however, not to go there as we had already done one boat ride to the island on Lake Bled where a similar church exists. Also, we were short of money and there were no banks or money exchange places in Perast! The church in the main town square was closed—so we could not enter it—although there was an old crone waiting in the campanile tower to take money from anyone wishing to climb up for great views of the Bay. Needless to say, we were quite wiped out from our ten days of sightseeing to want to attempt that—plus, we had no money!

Between the two of us, we just managed to scrape the few euros we needed to get back on the bus to Kotor—this time the scenery was ruined by rain and windows that kept fogging up and obscuring the view. And once at Kotor, we wasted no time, but hopped into a bus that took us back to Budva. We still had to explore Budva’s Old Town as rain had ruined that excursion for us, the previous evening. So about an hour later, we were back in Budva.

Exploring Budva’s Old Town:    

Thankfully, and by some miracle, the rain had not reached as far south of the Bay as Budva. So, as soon as we got to the bus station, we walked directly towards Old Town, past all the flashy new skyscrapers and rather gaudy structures as we knew the lie of the land pretty well by this point.

Budva’s Old Town had a lot to offer: the usual suspects, of course, churches, plazas, shops, bars, cafes, but these were actually quite charming because each place and its Old Town has a slightly different character. Here, there was a lovely Russian Orthodox Church that was very pretty and reminiscent (though on a much smaller scale) of the ones we had seen in St. Petersburg in Russia.  We contemplated sitting at a café with a coffee and dessert but prices were very high. Instead, we sat at the water’s edge on a rampart of the fort and watched people and their dogs and felt happy and contented that our lovely holiday was ending in this place.

Budva’s tourist literature depicts a lovely sculpture of a ballerina and since we had not yet caught sight of her, we went out in search of it. It meant a bit of a walk around the fort and Old Town walls, but then there she was—on the rocks—sort of like The Little Mermaid that sits in the harbor at Copenhagen. People scrambled across the rocks to take pictures with her (which made it hard for the rest of us to get our shots!) but in the end, after some ill-natured bantering with them, we got our pictures and left.

It was time to walk back to our hotel before darkness fell over the city. Through the garden we went, past the fountain that changes lights and colors and on to our hotel where we sat at the restaurant and ordered dinner. It was delicious and satisfying—Chriselle had been craving the grilled prawns (large ones, well marinated and charred) and I had some meat (although I cannot now remember what I ate). When we’d had our fill, we left and took the elevator up to our room where we organized ourselves for our departure, the next day, to Dubrovnik. It was not long before we switched the light off and fell asleep.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Departing from Dubrovnik in Croatia and Arriving in Budva, Montenegro

Oct5

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Dubrovnik, Croatia-Budva, Montenegro:

Chriselle and I woke up excited because soon we would be on the road again. However, for the start of the day, we’d be in Dubrovnik and since it was a Sunday and we had not yet managed to get inside the Church of St. Blaise, it made sense to go for Mass there.

We washed, showered, dressed and packed our bags and kept them ready for our departure and then we set out to pay a visit at the church—not sure if we would get a Mass as the church did not have a website and I was not able to confirm timings. To our good luck, the church was open when we got there at about 7. 45 am and we soon discovered, by the numbers of people who kept trooping in, that Mass was at 8.00 am. Needless to say, we attended Mass and received Communion and then left quickly. The church is gorgeous—it is again decorated in the Baroque vein with lavish gilding at the altar and beautiful marble cherubs and saints scattered all around. We also found deep Catholic devotion in Croatia and a congregation of a wide age range.

Outside, vendors were getting their goodies ready for new buyers—we later discovered that the open-air market was part of a two-day festival that occurs once a year. We were lucky to have caught it. Chriselle bought a jar of preserved cherries which she absolutely adored. We also returned to the same bakery to buy ourselves something for breakfast—croissants and ham and cheese twists with coffee—and we sat at a square that was just coming to life, we chatted with other tourists who had just arrived in Dubrovnik and were clearly enchanted by it.

With our breakfast eaten, we took a couple of last strolls around the place and then return to our hotel to pick up our bags. We then made our way to the bus stop from where we caught the 1A bus that took us to the Main Bus Station.

Off to Montenegro:

Our bus to Montenegro left promptly at 11.00 am. We were scheduled to arrive in Budva at 2.00 pm. We did go through another border check-point when our passports were checked and stamped and as we entered Montenegro, we found ourselves growing more and more charmed by the scenery. Leaving Dubrovnik was also wonderful as it offered us exciting views of Old Town from a height as it receded from us.

Our arrival in Budva brought us to the main Bus station past the many twists and turns that make up the gorgeous Bay of Kotor. The drive snakes around the water’s edge for a good couple of hours offering stunning scenery that combines water, mountains, small red roofed hamlets and many luxury hotels and spas that have been completely taken over by Russian tourists. We passed by the main town of Kotor and other much smaller settlements that hug the water’s edge and finally arrived at Budva.

Arrival and Check-in at Budva:

In Budva, I had made reservations at Hotel Kangaroo which Lonely Planet had recommended warmly. Its name derives from the fact that it is run by an Australian couple. Asking for directions at the bus-station, we managed to find our way to the hotel after about a 20 minute walk—which was not very pleasant given that we had baggage with us. Still, once we were in our hotel, it reminded us much of Goa—with its shack-like appearance and its lush greenery. No sooner did we stash our bags in our very spacious ensuite room than we realized how hungry we were—luckily, our hotel had a very large restaurant attached to it and it was there that we ate our first meal in Montenegro. I ordered the Beef Goulash which turned out to be a very large and hearty helping of an Indian–style beef curry served with a bit of mashed potato. Chriselle chose to have the grilled fish with chips—potato fries. This turned out to be much too large a helping for her—but the food was tasty and very reasonably priced.

Our first impressions of Budva were that it reminded us a lot of suburban Bombay. It is a very modern city with the kind of urban sprawl that is not very attractive despite the fact that new high rise buildings are apparently being constructed for clients with money—more Russians, perhaps? After the charming, old-world, medieval ambience of Dubrovnik, we were a tad disappointed, but we hoped we’d find antiquity in Old Town.

Going out to Discover Budva:

Having sustained ourselves well for the evening ahead, we decided to go out in search of Old Town which was a good 20 minute walk from our hotel. We took a map and directions from our hotel receptionist and as we began to cross a large garden towards the waterfront, we felt the first fat drops on our faces. Soon the drizzle became a steady downpour and we had to take shelter in a restaurant as neither one of us had an umbrella. After a while it seemed to clear up and we raced towards the main walls of Old Town which were just a few meters in front of us.

Caught in a Massive Downpour:

Well, all we managed to do was get into the town walls. Within a few steps, the rain re-started and we had no alternative but to seek shelter again. This time we sat in a restaurant and ordered cups of tea which felt really good as we were cold and quite miserable at being caught in the rain. However, we also reminded ourselves that this was the very first time we had to deal with rain on our entire trip—indeed we had been hugely fortunate with the weather—so we could hardly grumble.

The rain drummed on and on. The two of us looked at it as a great time to just sit and catch up with every aspect of our lives. But for the two of us, the restaurant was empty and we had the wait staff pouring attention upon us. It was not just the rain but deafening claps of thunder that alarmed us and streaks of lightning that shot across the sky. We talked about our past, about our future, about friends and family members that we now see so rarely, etc. It really was a great way to bond and get in touch with all the happenings in our lives. About two hours later, after Chriselle felt the need to order a bit of dinner (I was still too full after our late lunch), we nibbled at a dessert that she ordered and after darkness had fallen over the city and the rain had thoroughly drenched everything, we found our way back to our hotel. In the end, we did not see anything of Old Town—but tomorrow was another day!

There was little else to do but a spot of reading before we got to bed as the TV in our room did not play anything in English. By 9.30 pm, we were switching off the light, wishing each other a good night and hoping for better weather tomorrow.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

 

 

Discovering Dazzling Dubrovnik in Croatia

Oct5

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Dubrovnik, Croatia:

We spent the entire day discovering Dubrovnik.  And what a city it was! And what a fine discovery it turned out to be! Having fallen in love with Split, we thought it would be impossible to find anything quite as enchanting. But Dubrovnik far exceeded Split in terms of charm-value.

Going in Search of Breakfast:

We found breakfast pastries (apricot croissants, hazelnut twists) in a small bakery where we also found coffee and a very surly assistant serving us. We beat a hasty retreat, sat by the wonderful round fountain of Ornofrio right at the main entrance to Old Town called Pile Gate and ate our breakfast. When we were done, we were ready to launch upon our sightseeing for the day which began with our climb up the City Walls.

Exploring Dubrovnik’s City Walls:

The biggest (and most expensive) attraction in Dubrovnik is a walk around the City Walls—these are located right at the very entrance. For the equivalent of about $25 (paid only in kuna), you get a ticket and with it, you are allowed to enter the main door that leads to about four floors worth of steps. These are steep and narrow but they take you up to the very top from where you get unbelievable views—of the New City lying beyond Pile Gate, of the uniformly red roofs of the Old City, of the shimmering Adriatic with its multitude of watercraft.

Encircling the City Walls takes about two hours—although much depends on how often you stop to take sweeping views of the landscape, how many pictures for which you pose, whether or not you stop for a cup of tea or a cooling juice drink (for there are small cafes dotted along the walls). It is a really unique experience and one I have not had anywhere else in the world. You are on the ramparts, basically, of a really huge castle—a castle that was built in Medieval times but in which life still carries on—for the place is a living entity of contemporary Croatian life. There are architectural elements, for instance, that you can only appreciate from a height. Occasionally you find yourself peering into people’s home, taking in their terrace gardens and viewing their laundry that hangs out to dry. You see the domes and spires of grand Baroque churches (that you will visit once you get down again). You see the bays and coves that are part of this visually stunning part of the world. Everywhere you turn, there is a picture postcard waiting to be photographed. It is simply visual overload and you will love every second of it.

As expected, we took a little over two hours during which we had the time of our lives. I mean what was not to love? There was the weather that was just perfect. With zero humidity, we climbed up and down a series of staircases but we were never tired. There was the tourist energy of other people who passed by us, went before us or lagged behind us. We laughed and chatted with them as if they were close friends. When eventually we did have our fill of the sights and took enough pictures to exhaust the battery on our camera, we descended the stairs and came back to the center of Old Town again.

Taking Three Self-Guided Walks:

After we had refreshed ourselves with a long drink of water and a snack of gelato, we set out again for the next item on our agenda. The Tourist Information Center which is located right at the entrance to the Old City at Pile Gate distributes a rather nice map with three walking tours very clearly traced out in colored dotted lines. We decided to do all three of them with a stop in-between for lunch.

Free Samples and Nibbles in St. Blaise’s Church Square:

It was when we were on our walk that we came across the Square of St. Blaise Church that was simply filled with tables laid out with goodies and manned by Croatian folk many of whom were in their traditional folk costumes. As we moved from stall to stall, we were inundated with requests to sample the goodies and indeed we did not disappoint the good salespeople. We tasted candied almonds, candied orange rind and loads and loads of jams and preserves. At one of the stalls, we were plied with samples of homemade brandies and liqueurs that were simply amazing. At another stall, we had savory nibbles—crackers and biscuits.

When we’d had more than we could manage, we continued with our walk. All the while, we took in the breathtaking interiors of churches, the architectural wonders of palaces, wharfs and quay sides where we were plied with requests to buy tickets for boat rides and excursions to the neighboring islands. We visited the Jesuit Church of St. Ignatius, we entered an ancient apothecary or pharmacy that has been in regular business since the 1300s, we saw cloisters attached to various abbey and missions–for Croatia is staunchly Catholic. It does not seem to have gone through a Reformation and faith is firm. At about 4.00 pm, feeling very tired, we decided to return to our lovely comfy room to take a rest and a nap. This idea was great as it did both of us a world of good.

Dinner at Taj Mahal Bosnian Restaurant:

About an hour or two later, when twilight was descending upon the city, we decided to go out for dinner and it was in a Bosnian Hotel called (of all things!) Taj Mahal Bosnian Cuisine that we experimented with a bit of local cuisine. Since I had not eaten the famous kebabs of the region called cevapi, I ordered those. They were served with pita bread (much softer and fluffier than American pita) with a dollop of sour cream and with diced fresh onions. Chriselle ordered the Brocolli soup that was simple divine and a large mixed salad which came with cured beef slices (similar to Proscuitto) which she (being a vegetarian) did not eat but passed on to me. The food was very tasty indeed and we could see why it is one of the most popular restaurants in Bosnia.

Right after dinner, we decided to go for another short walk as the lighting brings a magical glow to the city by night—and we could not get enough of it. But by 10.00 pm, we were home and getting ourselves organized for our departure for Montenegro.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…