If I have thunk it once, I have thunk it a gazillion times (and said it a few million times!), Goa is about colour, colour and more COLOUR!
The brilliant blues of the sky and the seas, the luscious greens of the flora, the bright yellow of the Sun and the muted creams of the sands....I could go on forever. I truly believe a colour comes alive, and into it's own, when seen in Goa. I believe colours live for that one moment, like fireflies waiting to spark, a brief burst that banishes the dark.
What brought this on, was my shower. Rather, the shower in my hotel room. Granite underfoot, scattered, smooth, pebbles and waving green ferns, and a blue'n'green tiled panel from which jut-eth the shower-head. A panel that reminded me of the wall of fountains that Tom Hanks built for Catherine Zeta-Jones in The Terminal (originally based on the 1000 fountains that Napoleon built for Josephine! What morance, I say!).
Yenivays, digression happening...coming back to my shower (YES, is MINE till I check out, tomorrow!)...this whole confection is OUTDOOR, and screened by a cunning little wall, topped with wicker matting, surrounded by ferns. All glossed by a fresh wash of rain...
***Sigh***
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Friday, June 09, 2006
Midsummer Snows
Chronologically speaking, this is one of the more recent trips and actually last in the list of ones I have been promising myself to write about...but what the hey! We shall start here because I am in the mood for hot chicken momos with dallé chutney...*slurppp*!
Here came the height of Summer (or so it felt to my heat-averse self!), accompanied by much moaning for ACs and stronger sunscreen, and there came a travel request that needed me to be in Gangtok for a partner meet. Providential? Abso-blooming-lutely!
For the unaware, Gangtok be-eth the capital of the North-eastern state of Sikkim...which same means the Himalayas, snow, the Indo-China border, and all that. And I am strict believer in the fact that you can always pull on as many layers as you need, to keep warm, but can't take off enough layers to battle a warm climate. So give me a cold place any day...the colder the better!
Yenivays, coming back to my meandering path, I landed in Kolkata on Day One and met up with the rest of the folks traveling out for the same meeting. Now, I have never been to the East of our country before, and I really did not know what to expect. From the weather, yes, I knew I was going to get major flak (no surprises there...!), but I was looking forward to new food, a new city and meeting some new people. I must say I had my expectations exceeded(!) on all 4 fronts. Hated the weather (ugh..ick..yaagh!), loved the food (hot luchis with murgir pathuri...jinge aloo posto...misti doi...!), found the City a treat, for anyone who loves old architecture, and was very pleasantly surprised by the people.
Now, most Bengalis I have known in the past have been bent over double under the weight of their own importance; a state that just begs for being taken down a few pegs! There has, of course, been the odd exception to that...but as I said...odd. The people I met on this trip, however, had my jaw hanging on account of their warmth, joie de vivre (or should I say joie de manger ;o) !) and down-to-earthedness...and this when almost everyone in the group was meeting for the very first time. An eye-opener if any!
Nicely ensconced, in all this warmth and camaraderie, I boarded the Sealdah-NJP Special train that night all set to enjoy the comforts of 2-Tier A/C. While I can hold my own with the train travelers of the world, Sealdah station came as a bit of a shock....noise, crowds, humidity, and porters displaying the peculiar Bengali fondness for natakbazi! Which same means that over and above the usual haggle over pricing you will find layers of emotional blackmail being piled on both porter and portee! And I was treated to flashes of this kind of verbal dueling all through the 4-day trip, confirming that railway stations and porters have not cornered the market on this sort of theatrics ;o)
The train journey, itself, unfolded with its usual magic...so sue me, I find train journeys magical!...new-found friends, snacking foods that you would not give time of day to anywhere else, a harried trip coordinator, a completely confounded Ticket Collector, silly jokes, shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, clambering into my berth late into the night, and being hauled out by early birds who cannot stand to see another sleep a wink beyond dawn (well, maybe not dawn, but close enough!)...the perfect ingredients for a jhaalmuri of a journey! Oh yeah...jhaalmuri...I discovered that I can actually whollop 2 packets of fresh-made jhaalmuri, before breakfast, and keep coming back for more. Much to the utter shock of the Bengali men....I wonder why...hmmmmm (Again, for the unaware, jhaalmuri is the Bengali version of sukha bhel / churmuri / puffed rice mixed with chopped onions, chillies, masala, mustard oil, etc...)
Day Two kick started with our reaching New Jalpaiguri (NJP) station and herding into a pile of waiting Sumo and Qualis Cabs to start the long, uphill drive to Gangtok. Beyond a point, all the roads are managed by the Border Roads Organization (BRO), and you will find painted messages and slogans, and the suchlike all along the way, underlining the work they do. I could almost feel the pride levels in my blood rising...the thought of our intrepid men, out there, battling the elements, securing our roads, paving the way...the whole patriotic punch. I am a big one for My Country and Unifying Factors and there's nothing I like better than seeing people come together, driven by a sense of oneness... "All for One and One for All" and all that..quintessential Muskateering!
A long drive later, having lunched on some very forgettable food and having skirted the Teesta river that, by the way, is one of the really good spots for a bit of white water rafting, we drove into the Orange Valley Resort just before Gangtok. The drive up, coming after a long night's journey, had been hot and tiring...but the weather that hit us, as we dragged ourselves out of our respective cabs, was a splash of cold, sparkling water on a hot day. Anyone who has ever washed their face using a bottle of chilled sparkling water, at 2 in the afternoon in the middle of July, knows what I am talking about! (Yes, YES, I shall always go on and on about hot weather and hot days and all that...get used to it!)
We basically closed Day Two with the usual, token, introductory presentations followed by dinner. The high point of my dinner were the Chicken Momos, though the much advertised Dallé Chutney failed to make an appearance, that night. Dallé are little, innocuous-looking, cherry-like chillies that will blow the top of your head off if you approach them from the wrong side (not that there is a right side with Dallé...you are dead anyway. They are also, locally, known as ‘Fireballs’…go figure!). I was too knackered to continue beyond that, though I am told major adda took place (you need to be Bengali to sufficiently explain that term, so I shall give it a miss!) marked by much singing and the suchlike, so I retreated to my room for some much needed shut eye. The day had been long in the tooth and just as short on my patience. And I knew the next day had goodies in store, so I could afford to snooze :o)
The next morning, after a breakfast I can only describe as rollicking, we climbed back into our cabs...though in a more organized and predetermined manner...this time we were headed for Tsomgo Lake and thereabouts. What's in a lake, I thought...more scenery and local flavor (which same, till then had failed to hold any flavor beyond the momos. I have been thoroughly spoiled by Ooty, I must say!). Until we reached the waterfall. Words abandon me, and so shall let the pictures do the talking...
Here came the height of Summer (or so it felt to my heat-averse self!), accompanied by much moaning for ACs and stronger sunscreen, and there came a travel request that needed me to be in Gangtok for a partner meet. Providential? Abso-blooming-lutely!
For the unaware, Gangtok be-eth the capital of the North-eastern state of Sikkim...which same means the Himalayas, snow, the Indo-China border, and all that. And I am strict believer in the fact that you can always pull on as many layers as you need, to keep warm, but can't take off enough layers to battle a warm climate. So give me a cold place any day...the colder the better!
Yenivays, coming back to my meandering path, I landed in Kolkata on Day One and met up with the rest of the folks traveling out for the same meeting. Now, I have never been to the East of our country before, and I really did not know what to expect. From the weather, yes, I knew I was going to get major flak (no surprises there...!), but I was looking forward to new food, a new city and meeting some new people. I must say I had my expectations exceeded(!) on all 4 fronts. Hated the weather (ugh..ick..yaagh!), loved the food (hot luchis with murgir pathuri...jinge aloo posto...misti doi...!), found the City a treat, for anyone who loves old architecture, and was very pleasantly surprised by the people.
Now, most Bengalis I have known in the past have been bent over double under the weight of their own importance; a state that just begs for being taken down a few pegs! There has, of course, been the odd exception to that...but as I said...odd. The people I met on this trip, however, had my jaw hanging on account of their warmth, joie de vivre (or should I say joie de manger ;o) !) and down-to-earthedness...and this when almost everyone in the group was meeting for the very first time. An eye-opener if any!
Nicely ensconced, in all this warmth and camaraderie, I boarded the Sealdah-NJP Special train that night all set to enjoy the comforts of 2-Tier A/C. While I can hold my own with the train travelers of the world, Sealdah station came as a bit of a shock....noise, crowds, humidity, and porters displaying the peculiar Bengali fondness for natakbazi! Which same means that over and above the usual haggle over pricing you will find layers of emotional blackmail being piled on both porter and portee! And I was treated to flashes of this kind of verbal dueling all through the 4-day trip, confirming that railway stations and porters have not cornered the market on this sort of theatrics ;o)
The train journey, itself, unfolded with its usual magic...so sue me, I find train journeys magical!...new-found friends, snacking foods that you would not give time of day to anywhere else, a harried trip coordinator, a completely confounded Ticket Collector, silly jokes, shrieks of uncontrollable laughter, clambering into my berth late into the night, and being hauled out by early birds who cannot stand to see another sleep a wink beyond dawn (well, maybe not dawn, but close enough!)...the perfect ingredients for a jhaalmuri of a journey! Oh yeah...jhaalmuri...I discovered that I can actually whollop 2 packets of fresh-made jhaalmuri, before breakfast, and keep coming back for more. Much to the utter shock of the Bengali men....I wonder why...hmmmmm (Again, for the unaware, jhaalmuri is the Bengali version of sukha bhel / churmuri / puffed rice mixed with chopped onions, chillies, masala, mustard oil, etc...)
Day Two kick started with our reaching New Jalpaiguri (NJP) station and herding into a pile of waiting Sumo and Qualis Cabs to start the long, uphill drive to Gangtok. Beyond a point, all the roads are managed by the Border Roads Organization (BRO), and you will find painted messages and slogans, and the suchlike all along the way, underlining the work they do. I could almost feel the pride levels in my blood rising...the thought of our intrepid men, out there, battling the elements, securing our roads, paving the way...the whole patriotic punch. I am a big one for My Country and Unifying Factors and there's nothing I like better than seeing people come together, driven by a sense of oneness... "All for One and One for All" and all that..quintessential Muskateering!
A long drive later, having lunched on some very forgettable food and having skirted the Teesta river that, by the way, is one of the really good spots for a bit of white water rafting, we drove into the Orange Valley Resort just before Gangtok. The drive up, coming after a long night's journey, had been hot and tiring...but the weather that hit us, as we dragged ourselves out of our respective cabs, was a splash of cold, sparkling water on a hot day. Anyone who has ever washed their face using a bottle of chilled sparkling water, at 2 in the afternoon in the middle of July, knows what I am talking about! (Yes, YES, I shall always go on and on about hot weather and hot days and all that...get used to it!)
We basically closed Day Two with the usual, token, introductory presentations followed by dinner. The high point of my dinner were the Chicken Momos, though the much advertised Dallé Chutney failed to make an appearance, that night. Dallé are little, innocuous-looking, cherry-like chillies that will blow the top of your head off if you approach them from the wrong side (not that there is a right side with Dallé...you are dead anyway. They are also, locally, known as ‘Fireballs’…go figure!). I was too knackered to continue beyond that, though I am told major adda took place (you need to be Bengali to sufficiently explain that term, so I shall give it a miss!) marked by much singing and the suchlike, so I retreated to my room for some much needed shut eye. The day had been long in the tooth and just as short on my patience. And I knew the next day had goodies in store, so I could afford to snooze :o)
The next morning, after a breakfast I can only describe as rollicking, we climbed back into our cabs...though in a more organized and predetermined manner...this time we were headed for Tsomgo Lake and thereabouts. What's in a lake, I thought...more scenery and local flavor (which same, till then had failed to hold any flavor beyond the momos. I have been thoroughly spoiled by Ooty, I must say!). Until we reached the waterfall. Words abandon me, and so shall let the pictures do the talking...
...I was pushed into tasting some of the clear, fresh, water (at that time, my jaw was dropping too much for me to worry about who 'certified' the water as fresh and clean and all that jazz), and I swear to this day my innards are still frozen! As I downed the Drink I could just about feel the freeze moving through me, following in the path of the water I had just swallowed...BRRR!
Now, big D-jango that I am (no, I haven't misspelled it...I know Django...this is not that. This is D-jango, which starts with the chopped off D sound before you move onto the jango part of things. Courtesy Papa K) I had set out dressed only in a cotton dress. Frankly, I wasn't even feeling the cold, until the Drink. Once the Drink hit my system, it was like the sensors popped open an eye but could not quite decide whether to wake up or not. Until, of course, we reached the lake. And the snowline. With a cold wind blowing. And no loos in sight. Anywhere. Ever. Suffice it to say I went to Hell and came back without the benefit of being warmed by the burning fires. In my case, Hell pretty much froze over, and there were no Eagles to herald the event. But like I said, just about when all this started, we reached the lake. The Lake that I had been mentally sneering at (more fool, I!)...see for your self....
T'was like God froze a part of the Heavens and set it down on a mirror. And that was just the beginning! We drove up past sleepy-looking Yak to where we were tossed out into the snow. Remember I was still in my own, personal, Hell, as I got pelted with snowballs, skidded over patches of ice and had snow shoved down the back of my dress. (Boss, I shall forever remember that you ordered the attack...).
The only saving grace was that I had been talked into pulling on Gum Boots, for the frolic in the snow, before we left the lake. If any of you attempt this trip, as you darned well should(!), you can rent gum boots, and jackets and gloves and other protective gear from the many lean-to shops edging the Tsomgo Lake. And if snow's not your thing, then the steaming momos (veggie, per force, as the Lake and its surroundings are supposed to be Holy), chased down by hot coffee/ tea, might hit the spot. (BTW, if you ever hit my brand of Hell, talk to the nice lady at Shop No.40).
Yenivays, after much playing in the snow, and many momos (this time with THE chutney!) and cups of tea, we started for the resort to try and make it back in time for lunch. Now, all of this area around the Lake is within the Army limits, and a few tosses away from the Nathula Pass. So, there are many barracks,units (or whatever else is the correct terminology) and Army jawans everywhere. We stopped to give a few of them, who were off on their two-month leave, a ride down the road towards Gangtok. Tummy filled, Hell banished, extremities frozen and camera primed, I happily snapped our descent from the Heavens. What made the ride even better was knowing that we were now a small, but definite, part of the lives of those soldiers on their way home to their families.
--------------------(More later....am dying for some breakfast!!!)---------------------
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