Shudeshna's Wedding... And More!

It all started with the urge to attend a winter wedding at Delhi. And Su made that happen for us without trying too much. With some amount of winter wear packed and all 6 of us friends on the same flight, we hit the airport with sleepy eyes and a shot of espresso. The 3 hour long flight saw some of us snoring, others gossiping and a few eating their way into winters. Top of all, we seem to have forgotten that Su is getting married! Land at Delhi and step out of the airport by noon to feel the nip in the air at 12 degrees. Our 30 min drive to the hotel saw some dense fog and boy, this was the much awaited Delhi winter we were looking forward to.

As we checked in to the rooms and tried to make ourselves comfortable, we realised the real reason why people love Bangalore. The chill was getting to us and we quickly had to layer up before we headed out for lunch at the Groom’s house. A short walk from our hotel and we were at the lunch-for-family get together. The sight of hot and steaming food sent the right messages in all our minds. We did the honours of meeting the bride and groom. Su was looking fabulous and at the same time it was difficult for us to see her like this cute and cuddly person (quite the opposite in office). Gautam (the groom) was looking dashing and carried a very calm demeanour. He seemed like a very courteous person with a humble outlook and was all over the place trying to make everyone feel comfortable.

After the formalities and group photos, we headed for some hot Daal makhani and mutton curry. We ate like hungry dogs. Period!

All we could do was walk back to our room and catch up with some sleep before the evening out for Cocktail and Dinner. During lunch earlier today, I got to know that I will have to raise a toast for the bride and that kept me worried for a bit. Tried to sleep for some time and at around 1800hrs stepped out to feel the evening air. It was freezing to the bone out there. There is only one thing that can beat this kind of a cold, Old Monk! The weather felt pleasant after 1 large and the words for the toast also started to flow with ease. Next step was to get ready and hit the Hotel for the cocktail.

The entry was grand and well lit up, which gave a sense of warmth for sure. We could see the bar, but had to wait for the customary list to be done with. Su was looking smashing in her peach gown. She had really spent time on her gown and it was almost as though a fairy had come down to earth to bless us. No girl could have looked better than this on her wedding day… Perfect!

The couple looked gorgeous, they seemed more than just being in love with each other. They were happy to be among family and friends, holding each others hands and dancing away to Anish's vocals and Vigesh's strumming. Is this what dreams are made of!

After my toast and a customary song and dance with the bride, Su gave one of her most important and beautiful thank you note I have heard in a long time. She is such a gem and almost everyone were left with a tear. Her speech left every one breathless, including Gautam (her husband now). It is so surreal that he had nothing to say when it came to his turn for a thank you note. That’s the Su we all know, hard from the outside, yet soft and caring from the inside. Good on you girl, you truly deserve this day, this life and the very best of every girl's dreams. Gautam is surely blessed to have got a gorgeous girl like Su to be his better half.

The evening after cocktail was the usual, cold by the weather and hot by the Monk. Had another elaborate meal and stood most of the time next to the “Sigree”. Finished late and left almost along with the bride and groom. It truly was a special evening for most of us and we were surely dressed for the kill. Slept like a log that night.

Woke up the next day with the intent of hitting Old Delhi and that’s exactly what we did. Post a heavy breakfast, found the nearest way to the Metro to experience our first Delhi Metro ride.

Had heard so much of it and we just had to experience it. It was truly spectacular and the ride from the outskirts of Gurgaon to CP took us about 45 minutes. Which truly is a breeze considering the traffic on Delhi roads. As we stepped out to the inner circle of CP, the true colors of Delhi came out hard.

So many beautiful people walking about so well dressed, the humongous Indian Flag fluttering at its best, loads of vendors selling street food and hawkers selling winter wear… Boy was this fun. Due to the polls in Delhi, all parties were trying to spread the message of awareness and we to joined them and started supporting for the broom... since we are the Mango people right! After eating chat and picking up some cheap winter wear from the streets of CP, we decided to head to a popular eating joint nearby. After a lot of asking and haggling, we were told to take the metro to Chandni Chowk and then a cycle rickshaw ride to the century old eating place. The metro was easy and fun and took us to the heart of old Delhi, Chandani Chowk. Noisy streets, people all over, small food stalls lined up the walk from the metro till the gurudwara. Some how people have made peace with Chaos and and the way of life at Old Delhi. We did take the Cycle Rickshaw to near Jama Masjid.

The ride to this place was unreal for me. Narrow streets with more people than one can imagine to be at a flea market. Roads called "Nai Sarak" (New road) but are centuries old and have generations of business men starring at unsuspecting tourists like me. A huge book market followed by Old sewing machine sales points which further followed up around the Jama masjid where auto spares were all around.... this truly was breathtaking. Like I said, people have found their way, around this chaos.

After a 20 min ride from the metro among crowded streets, we came across an even narrow lane and the rickshaw stopped. I was still trying to find this place of immense culinary wealth and repute and then my eyes fell upon this bright LED studded board that read "Karim's".

Thats it, my hunger pangs just got kicked and I had to gorge on every thing that speaks about the success of this place. Luckily for me, I had a good eater with me in the form of Imtiaz and  the two of us let go on everything on the menu. While the girls watched us eat like cavemen, we really had no clue of anyone's existence around us. Started lunch with Mutton Burra, Chicken Burra and some Mutton Sheek Kababs. Second course was mutton cashew nut curry with traditional butter naan  followed by Chicken and mutton biriyani. Wiped the plates clean with another juicy skewer of mutton sheekh kababs. After an hour of eating, the thought of going back in the metro and attending another function was very difficult. But I think by now we were living for the minute and the last 60 minutes were something to die for!

It was almost 5 in the evening and we had not even started our journey back to our hotel to change, when someone came with a brain wave to attend the wedding in the same shabby clothes we wore all day. Well at least someone had the courtesy to shamelessly call and ask the bride is she was ok and Su (in her usual form) dawned the avatar of Kaali and blasted the crap out of us. After that, our arduous journey back to the hotel began. Long sleepy ride back... time check... 1830hrs... reached the hotel...time check... 1900 hrs... the cab to take us till Delhi was gone! Luckily Gautam arranged for his manager to pick us up while one of our ex managers picked up girls. Finally, all suited up and ready and another 2 hours later, we were at the reception all decked up looking fine and dandy.

The evening (well for us but for the world it was 2200hrs) was cozy in the comfort of the heated auditorium. But the brave ones still ventured into the outdoors for dinner and conversations.

Su and Gautam were looking out of the world. Su does it again, her dress was brilliant and the pastel shades were truly warming up the evening. It was also good to meet a few colleagues from the past and the conversations of the glory days continued into the night. A good dinner (yup, even after the belting at Karim's) followed up with some finger slurping cake and a photo with the couple had to complete the evening. Thanked all and wished them well. The fact that Su may not be coming back to Bangalore for good had just started to sink in for me. I will miss her company for sure... The drive back from the venue to the hotel, almost an hour, was long and silent. Though every one was tired, I was surely missing Su already. She has been a bundle of joy and cheer for me. Slept well with no plans for the next day.

Woke up to a good tea and breakfast and then a plan to visit Kingdom of dreams for a show called "Zangoora - The gypsy prince".

This is one place every one told me to visit when in Gurgaon. Probably I never found time to and was not keen on the idea of a bollywood styled show that everyone is crazy about. This group some how got me to the show and boy was a floored by what I saw. The ambiance, sound system, stage, props, actors and the sheer volume of non stop action that takes place for the 2 hour show is simply breathtaking. There is probably no amount of glitter in words that can describe the visual experience one must go through to truly appreciate this show. The colors clubbed with the 4 levels of depth on the stage add to an almost lifelike experience that is rarely seen any where in the world. While there is the much abused story that keeps the event together, it is really a musical and one cannot take away that from the spectacle. The choice of songs too cut across generations and have been hand picked from the top of the charts from the respective decade. If you have even thought of a Hindi song in your life, you must experience this dream.

The post show inclusion is a walk through the facade of various states of our country and is aptly called the "Culture Gully". There is not only the presentation of each state, but also the delicacies from these states to taste and all this under an artificial sky. While it is priced a bit on the higher side, it is easy to get the authentic taste anywhere outside as well and at a much lesser price. However, you must try some of the things that you have been craving for and are short of time to travel to the roots of the cuisine. I personally, gorged on everything from Mutton keema with pav to chaats and my favorite, Gaajar ka Halwa. Just to walk through the corridors and carefully crafted street makes you feel like you are taking a journey through time. Be it Kerala which is designed like a boat ride in the backwaters or Goa which makes you feel lively among the color coordinated walls. The grandeur of West Bengal or the calmness of Assam, it is all there.

Even the hustle and bustle of Mumbai's metro left Anu and I with our moment of DDLJ. Quite a reminder from 15 years back!

As we stepped out of the kingdom of dreams, we saw this tiny pan show in the corner near the exit. It surely would have been a disaster if we had not gone here. There was a pan for every palate. I tried the chocolate crunch, while others tried the chocolate rum and other flavors. The day was surely well spent and we ended it with a much deserved drink at the lounge of our hotel. We also had the honor to meet an old and very important friend for the evening till dinner. Overall, a brilliant trip with Su getting married and sharing her joy with us and to Delhi for making it one of my most memorable trips in India.

Thinking to myself, "I probably get a better kick and enjoy my holidays exploring India than to travel to any other destination across the word. There is so much to explore in this beautiful country and so less time."

Italy... Murano and Burano

Island of Murano

He said, "We don't have any women masters in Murano and that's because, a woman cannot blow glass and talk at the same time"... Well what can I say, the problem is universal!

Jokes apart, the masters subtle rotation of the rod, with a blob of glass hot out of the furnace at one end, and gravity doing its part in pulling the blob off the rod, to form weird shapes, is nothing but sheer magic. A gentle blow from the other end and a few strokes of the rod and voila, a vase comes to life. If you thought this was sheer brilliance one must admire the pulling technique with awe. Clearly, working on glass with the pulling technique is like sculpting castles of the sand. The imaginative parlance of the 'Master' is far beyond any viewer in the room. A couple of gentle pulls using tongs clubbed with gravity doing a tad of its part and the end result can be anything but your imagination!

Apart from farming, I cannot imagine another practice that has been passed down from father to son for over a thousand years. Even today, there are no schools to teach one to become a glass-maker. All masters across the island of Murano's factories, are descendants of great masters from the renaissance.

As soon as you step foot on Murano, you are greeted by many factories lined-up on the shore-line. The boat ride brings along a tour guide who recommends one of the factories and escorts us to meet the factory guide. The sharply dressed guide from the factory takes us through the process and history of glass-making at Murano. He does struggle to keep up speed with his explanation of the same in 3-4 different languages and he cannot be blamed for the same. The master is so skillful and fast, that a couple of strokes and the final product is ready for display in 3-5 minutes.

The glass blowing demonstration ends with a tour of their personal and rather exquisite showroom. While photography is not permitted for proprietary reasons, one gets so engrossed with the charm of sculpting with glass, that you forget everything and everyone around. The individual brilliance and sheer imagination is limitless when you see some of the details that have gone into the Ferrari's of glass making. Not only is the finish as fine and delicate, they are equally expensive to their four-wheeled Italian cousins. A few souvenirs from the showroom to bring back memories of a fading yet glamorous industry, is all that a common man can think of. Most buyers, a rather elite group, place orders and let these factories ship them across the globe. This sleepy town has been the holy grail for glass making for over 700 years and would continue to do so in many hundreds of years to come. Murano... a bow to the king of glass-making.

As you speed past Murano and head along the highways of the channel, a glimpse of Burano from the deck of the boat skims past like a finger-smudge of verdant hues of greens, reds and yellows. Little houses are painted different colors and is such a candy-treat to the eye.

Island of Burano

An artists imagination can only be as vivid as the town itself. Beautiful houses brought to life among all the Roman ruins spread across Italy. Apart from a few shops in the midst of the Piazza, to attract the outnumbered tourists, one does find the town a bit spooky as the day goes by. No loud people, hardly anyone out on the streets and old women working with their needles to create the wonders of lace, that is how this island celebrates life.

The island has been a wonder since the 6th century but it truly got its space in the world map in the 16th century, when lace making with needles was introduced to the world. The mainstay of the island being fishing, the women would get together and find solitude in lace making while the men wander off to the sea. This was the life for a hundreds of years, till the lace making industry developed to a factory model reducing time and cost of production. Today, although the business proposition of lace making has declined drastically, one may still find a few old women weaving their magic in designing some of the best tableware and garments.

Murano and Burano would always remind me of how artists and homemakers are striving hard to maintain their tradition ways, in the so called modern age. For now, it still seems a distant reality for someone from the hustle and bustle of the information age!

Italy... Art lovers Paradise!

Piazza Navona - Rome

Art stops time, and I experienced it as well. Staying fixated at a painting full of exuberant colors is not something new and one must surely have done it at least once in life. Someone once told me that it would takes months just to explore Rome and half of it would surely be spent standing in from of a 3x4. You never quite understand that till you stumble upon Rome's cobbled-stone Piazza's, especially the most famous of all, Piazza Navona. This square is enlivened every day by many artists who with their art succeed in capturing the features and the typical expressions of those being depicted. Be it a ballerina in red with her back facing us or the carpet of poppy laid out for you along the rolling hills of Tuscany, each artist brings his inspiration to life with so much care and concern. 

It is easy for an untrained eye to get mixed up with the work of a real artist pitted against a counterfeit one. Today their is more of chaos and clutter while creativity takes a beating. Sipping hot cappuccino by one of the small cafe's nearby, one of the locals at the cafe said that the local laws (Or rather the lack of it) are killing the legitimate while the fake peddlers are making an easy cut on reproductions. The least that most do, is to tell the boggled tourist that this is not their art and the real artist is elsewhere. Such honesty too takes a beating in some of the other streets.

Walking among all the canvas, a charcoal painter with a customer sitting across is bound to catch your eye. He starts with the eyes, then the nose and finally the lips. Each time using his fingers to soften the feel of her. Gentle strokes of his charcoal pencil, which can barely be seen to the naked eye, circle the outline of the face and hair. More flamboyant strokes of his pencil and to add his deep humming of a song from the past, the recreation of the lady nears completion. The only thing left, is her walking out of the paper, and she is beautiful. He does not demand a fixed price and instead, leaves the person being painted to spend time with herself on paper. She touches her paper-self, pays him and he walks away to the next lovely face. That's when you picture a true painter in your mind.

As noon progresses and you start to explore some of the other nooks and corners of town, one is bound to find a more contemporary artist hidden away in the alleys. Imagine a controlled graffiti artist who using spray cans and a few stencils, comes up with the most innovative and exaggerated view of some of the prominent landmarks of Rome. Well, that's exactly what was happening. Large noisy groups surround this person, who in her own world is throwing cans with bursts of spray at her paper. Soon, when the colors get vibrant and the bi-stander cannot understand the outcome, there is pin-drop silence. A few more cans thrown around and 5 minutes later, her art in an unreal star-war themed Rome comes to life. 

Whatever said, art here is something that keeps you gazing. Like someone once said, "A picture is a poem without words"

Music is another form of art that does not crave attention in Italy. It comes naturally to many and most perform for the the sheer pleasure they derive in it. As you stroll by the snake-like lanes of Italy, be sure to find a musician who will surprise you at least once. An evening in a Piazza or at one of the prominent viewing points is never noisy with all the tourists, but is far more serene and quintessentially romantic to even the stone-hearted. From all the lovely memories that stand out, Francesco Bassi's vocals and guitar at Piazza Michelangelo, Florence; was the most soothing to over 150 people seated at the steps of the square. The sun setting behind the singer and some Chianti to soothe a couple in love or an aching heart, was in every ones mind. Speaking to him after his near 3 hour performance, just as he is rapping up for home, he said, "If i don't share my best with you (his voice), where is the fun of this life"...!

Will remember him for a long time to come for rekindling many memories and giving us a perfect evening.

Venice has artists who create music with passion. You are bound to find someone sitting all alone with a Cello in the middle of a square and creating notes from the dark spring clouds. A few lanes ahead, you may find a violinist's fingers running faster than the chattery banter of a group of tourists. A couple of more bridges across and you would stop to think what instrument is this and more importantly, which direction is it coming from. As you wander through the tiny streets and reach a small corner, still trying to figure out the eerie and unusual sound, you come across the most innovative musician of the lot, a glass harmonica player. His music still rings a sense of calmness in my mind even today.

The people of Italy chase their dreams. Money, house and other material life is second in their dictionary. Good food, music to cherish the moment and a few conversations are far more important to their day to day life. How can life be so complicated with such trivial needs!

"Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up"~Pablo Picasso

https://www.facebook.com/francesco.bassi.71

Italy... The Food and Drinks

If one sleeps well, he eats well... and if he eats well, he is surely in for a gastronomic orgasm in everything he tastes!

As you wake up, the thought of that first cup of coffee and something to nibble along lingers vaguely in your mind. On a chill spring morning in Italy, after a lazy morning shower, you would hurriedly get dressed to find the nearest coffee bar. And that’s what I did every day. The robotic arms of a tender working his way on the equally fast, yet complex espresso machine, does catch your entry from the corner of his eye. A short and brisk “Buon Giorno” and he is back to his love of his life, making the best ristretti one would ever imagine. A ristretti is no humble coffee for the common coffee drinker. It is pure liquid adrenaline and has a tendency to keep the tourist on his feet all day. The warm smell of cornetti freshly being lined up for the customers’ tingles a very soft corner of your palate. Be it the residents or the tourists, the quintessential breakfast I witness being consumed day-in day-out in Rome is a coffee – either a simple caffè (espresso) or cappucino with a cornetti, normally just a cornetti.

The Streets in Italy are lively, full of expressive Italians and hurried tourists. But the one thing that stays still, are the tables on the streets. It is visually so appealing that it touches that part of your brain that tingles the hunger pangs! Be it lined up at the perimeters of a Piazza or by the already narrow streets, be sure to find at least a few cafe's every corner. The dim lighting, a smiling host, the chattering customers and the smell of a fresh wood fired Pizza.... hummppphhh.... makes me hungry writing about it!

Walking into the bi-lanes of Italy and be sure to find a mercato where locals and tourists who like to experiment with local produce, tend to buy their ingredients to create their Italian dish. One of the markets that I landed up was the Mercato at Campo de' Fiori in Rome. The freshest greens, olive oil produced from some of the nearby regions, Cheese to favor all taste buds and some home made grappa to work on your appetite are all here. As you walk around, listening to the competing shouts of the stallholders and letting an idea of the seasonal delicacies to sink in, you are already working up that great meal of seduction in your mind.

A stroll to the nearby and rather medieval part of Rome called Trastevere, would leave a mixed emotion in your mind. Initially it seemed like a seedy place, more of a working-class enclave in the heart of Rome, but one can soon fall in love with the down-at-the-heel vibrancy of the cobbled lanes. Furniture workshops stood cheek by jowl with the churches, orange trees competed with restaurants parasols for every square inch of sunlight, and the hereby odour of cannabis mingled with the smells of fresh coffee and pizza. Speaking of Pizza's, well not only are the hosts smiling and hugging, a gleaming waiter lists down an entire book (supposedly the Menu) with Pizza's called out. Pizza's made with Parmesan, Buffalo Cheese, Neapolitan styled, Mozzarella... I mean, the list is endless. Roman fashioned Pizzas: Thin slivers of dough, as crisp as poppadums, slathered with a sauce of tomatoes, mozzarella and basil. As simple as that, yet every 20kms you would travel, the taste some how changes. To a trained palate, it must be an extravaganza to gorge down these bursts of flavors. Locals say that traditionally, the correct cooking time of a Roman pizza is the length of the time the cook can hold his breadth. If done rightly, the pizza would end up crisp underneath but leaving the sauce still liquid. Every pizza takes you to a mental journey to some parts of Italy that one would have probably never experienced, but dreamed of for sure.

And to add to them, the Spaghetti is truly blissful. The cream and cheese just melt in your mouth and  if you are having the tomato based dishes, by the love of god they tingle every taste bud. The cheese needs to be inhaled and be sure that you would be transported to some of the tiny pastures of the hilly country-side around Rome. Tasting some of the cheese around the mercato, one in particular stood out for my palate. Being spring around the time of my travel and from the recent winter feed, this particular cheese had a touch of silage in the scent clubbed with aromas of fresh grass. Once you consume a small bite of the divine food of Italy, the faintest tang of thyme starts to emerge, which grows wild in the meadows and had been eaten by the sheep along with the grass. Cheese... a New meaning all together from here onward!

Predominantly one would find three types of restaurants in Rome. The most common would be to find the local osterie, most of which serve only Roman cooking. It is traditional cooking with ingredients sourced from markets and meat vendors. Every part of the meat is considered in such cooking and the recipe is passed down from generation to generation. While the traditional Romans are deeply suspicious of experimenting, a new type of restaurants seems to be emerging  along wit the osterie. locally known as cucina creativa, takes the tradition and experiments with it to cater to the variety of tourists flooding the streets. The third is gourmet, which the ordinary Roman would probably pass his entire life without ever setting foot inside one of them. It seemed that the newer-younger generation tends to experiment in a few larger cities though.

To experience some real street food, once has to hit the nooks and corners of every street and speak to a few locals. Someone in Florence said, that I must try two things, Limoncello and Lampredotto. And I was off hunting for one of the vendors stirring the hot pan of curry for the bun filled dish called Lampredotto. It was truly a delight to taste and boy would I have missed it if someone had asked me later. What a dish! Street food Bliss...! The right amount of Green Basil sauce and Red Chili sauce to create excitement and voila, A burger of sorts to create more than excitement. If you read what the dish means online, you may never taste it in your life, so try not to find out what a Lampredotto is! A few blocks away and we had this wine store giving out samples of all the local produce. Among them was this yellow milky textured drink called Limoncello. Made from Lemon (An idiot would have guessed it as well), the drink is smooth and surely potent for a shot. It is widely had across Southern Italy and as I got the taste for it, I was sampling and sipping the lovely drink all over the country. The best was some that I tasted at a Limoncello Laboratory at Capri though. Loved it and brought back some to remind me of the good times.

What is a plate of hot Pizza or Spaghetti made to combo with??? Beer! Well at least that's what I thought. Peroni out of the Tap was such a bliss. It is crisp, light and refreshing and is perfect to wash down that heavy, cheesy spring noon lunch. For once I preferred the tap version better than the Bottled version. The evenings start with an orange colored drink with a Lemon wedge. Once I found this drink on every table, I had to have one to figure out its fame. They call it the "Spritz". It is usually had as an apertif and is a mix of some sparkling wine and with some bitter liqueur such as a Campari or Aperol. To me, the drink tasted very bitter by any standards.

Speaking of Beer, for some reason and by chance, during my walks in the winding streets of Florence, I landed up at an Irish Pub. The place literally takes you to one in Ireland. Football match listing at the entry, Lot of hand written t-shirts pinned up the roof and not to miss, Guinness taps to spark your wild side. The unfortunate part was we landed at noon, and there were a few tourists sipping on one the Guinness dark. Lapo, our friendly Bartender did good with some bar table talk and tell us that the nights does get loud-and-wild all through the week. I always wanted to get to an Irish pub, drink Beer all night, sing aloud during a football match and get into a brawl... this was the nearest I could probably get to (Fingers Crossed, next trip maybe Ireland!)

As you find your way past other tourists and locals equally, you would find Romans and their belief in eating well and drinking to your hearts full. I remember two boards peeking through the low hanging creepers from a few places that I hope to imbibe in my life as well. 
1. "La vita e` troppo breve per non bere e mangiare bene!" - Life is too short to not drink and eat well!
2. "Anni, amori, e bicchieri di vino, nun se contano mai"- Years, lovers, and glass of wine, these things must not be counted.

Not surprising, a romantic dinner is not very common around. The ordinary Italian would rather eat under floodlights than by the candlelight. I think it comes from the cook to judge the blissful expressions on the faces of diners. A particular dinner at Venice was spent in such a fashion. Fresh catch of Salmon grilled in honey and spices with some Fries and a large wedge of juicy lemon... Aaaghhhh... It was the best fish I had tasted in a long time. The smell of mushrooms combined with the hot butter and garlic awaken sensations in parts of you that have remained quiescent for a long time. It was as if these flavors always existed, but now you were tasting them for the very first time. Each course was more intense than the last one. I usually tend to avoid tasting sea food in many places, but this was different. The sun setting at the canal, a glass of Prosecco and some lip smacking food to excite your culinary appetite. It was enough for me to try out some sea-food from the warm Mediterranean waters.

Gelato, the famous pass-time of tourists and Italians like-wise. Starting from the famous "Giolitti", where the endless queues would trickle down the tiny bi-lanes of Rome, to all the smaller Gelateria's one could find in every street (By no means are they less tastier though). You can find a taste for every tourist in town. Tiramisu, Oreo, Snickers, Caramel... ummmm.... mouth watering. They are just so creamy and smooth and that's what probably makes them one of the best in the world. Even with some seriously breezy and cold evenings, we did find more than one occasion to fill ourselves with some fine Gelato.

It would be a crime if come to Italy and not write about their Wine. My trip to the Tuscan region of Florence and a short drive to Chianti took us to "Castello del Trebbio". A 600 year old castle nestled among the painted green hills of Tuscany was truly worth the experience of both wine making and wine tasting. To start of with the tour with the help of a local guide, we first entered the living rooms of the castle, which till today are occupied by the family and have art and furnishing that are probably centuries old. The walls would have been over a meter thick, maybe that's why they stood the tide of time. We took a tour of the cellars deep underground and the huge barrels to understand the ageing process. I always believed that my palette was never really designed to understand the notes of wine, until I sipped down one from these Sherry barrels.

The realization that you have taste buds in those corners of my mouth that have never tasted anything like this before is pertinent. It was like burst of flavors, aroma and the scintillating feel of having to taste one of the best on world, was mind-boggling. After trying one of their whites and one of their reds, we also had the opportunity to taste one of the award winning reserves. Each one was so uniquely enticing. Along with us on the tasting table was a young-at-heart couple and their daughter from America and it did turn out to be quite a session of Wine tasting and conversations. Wine does tend to break the ice on most days. We were given a plate full of salami, some cheese and bread with olive oil produced from their plantations. They were brilliant taste neutralizers and did excite all parts of the tongue differently with wine. 

Italy.... would remember the trip for the vast variety of tastes that each city kindled and the different types of drinks that help me wash down the breads. After spending half the fortune I carried on Food, regret is way of my dictionary. From street food at every osterie to some of the best cucina creativa in town, we tried it all and I would love to do it all over again... Well, that's the wish I made at Blue Grotto!

The Passion of Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar

Not writing much this time.... so much has been said already. Just want to feel the goose bumps by watching the video again, and again and again... Thank you Sachin!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCYpEC2-GTk

Memoirs from Udhagamandalam (Ooty)

Ooty, what can I say... heard so much about it, lived so close to it for years, thought it to be overly commercialized, hence never visited it! Never realized till my recent visit that the "Queen of hill Stations", as it is fondly called, would leave so many lasting memories with me that I would be visiting again... and again... and again!

 

The monsoon of July was threatening to keep us indoors when we started the trip on a Sunday morning. We had heard that the incessant drizzle in Ooty gets really annoying to most and we were mentally prepared to relax, stay indoors and enjoy tea beside a fire-place. With such minimal expectations and an open mind to explore what is there to offer, we set sail early from Bangalore and reached Udhagai at around an hour past noon. The 6 hours drive, with a breakfast break, was adorned by lovely weather, smooth roads, minimal traffic, bright green forests and inviting calls from the wild.

 



The Town below

The first view of the town simply puts to rest any stress and burden you carry from your daily being. The cool and gentle breeze makes you close your eyes and take a sense of life when it comes to a standstill. The towering trees swaying and whistling to the valley winds makes you feel so small and inappropriate in the vast worldly space. The never ending winding roads and ever surprising hair-pin bends does need more than your normal attention span, but the greens beside the tar gives you a sense of peace with the roads, which one normally does not get in the city roads. 

The Cafe at Lymond house

As we stepped into our abode for the next 4 days, we realized that this colonial bungalow really takes you way back in time to the early 19th century. The Victorian architecture is prominent across the exterior and is far more pronounced in the interiors. The sprawling lawn with a wide range of flowering plants lining the garden is simply breathtaking. One could find so much peace in gardening and spending time with the greens all around the property. In fact one of the posters on the walls of the property reads...

"Gardening man's primeval work, Is a most blessed toil. It cheers a man, makes him kind hearted, social, genial, forms a serene parenthesis from care, and his whole nature rises and improves." Well, I could not have said it better, but the place makes you believe in every word. The wrought iron antique styled outdoor sit-outs were so conveniently placed that it seemed odd for us to sit there and spoil the perfect blend with nature. A traditional silk sari weaver once said that if you need inspiration from nature, look at the colors and contrasts that it has to offer and boy was the garden full of inspiration for the next few hundred years.

The first step inside leaved you with so much warmth and sense of belonging. The lighting, numerous antique vase placed across the room, the rust colored fire-place and the old school seating makes you feel that you are home. Bone china artifacts from the 18th century, paintings from the yesteryears and collectibles from the British Raj keep the place busy with your eyes sure to catch something new every morning. All that one needs from here on is the English dressing and an evening cup of fresh tea by the lamp reading your favorite novel.

The 19th century piano although a bit rusty and out of tune, still did bring out the haunting memories of English nights from this hill station. It is said that during the 19th century many British died very young at Ooty for the want of essential medical supplies and this fact is preserved in some of the graveyards across town. The ability to maintain and bring to life such antique art is visible across the property and all credit goes out to the team in doing a wonderful job at it. Restoration is a painful and dying art and is being done by 2nd or 3rd generation families who are visible as shadows across this town full of recent commercial boom.

The chill 10 degree July monsoon evening does get a reprieve with the fire place spreading enough warmth across the bungalow. It is funny how one gets so much pleasure in doing nothing, sitting around the fireplace, breathing in the smokey aroma and sipping the world famous niligiri tea. All the worldly discomfort is forgotten and attaining inner peace comes naturally. To make the evening even more blissful, and in pure English style, a crystal full of fine English single malt does complete the picture.

The well appointed room with blissful lighting does make one want to feel the warmth of the rug ever so more. The wooden flooring and the sound of creeks and cracks every time you walk on them, takes you back to a bygone era so lost in time, you ever wonder why times changed at all. Reminiscing the frames across the room makes you a part of the life in the 19th century and speaks of untold tales of families trying to make a living in such harsh conditions. Luxury today is earned after centuries of toil by those who left a mark for us to cherishFor me it all started with a single yellow flower! Our journey in a train 14 years ago, bollywood styled as it would seem, kicked off with wild yellow flowers. Ironically though, this trip to Ooty is the second time only that we have travelled in a train after we met. That also means loads of memories rekindled along with a short train-trip to remember for life. With no agenda in mind for the trip to Ooty, since we were anyway anticipating a downpour of sorts, we decided to take the day as it comes. The day we landed, we visited the much acclaimed "Mohans - Antique and furniture store". Demonstrating our motto of "living life to the fullest", we ended up shopping for some fine antique collectables and furniture to match our taste. Devilishly, we also lined up a few items for our next visit.

 

A first day well spent, all we longed for good dinner and sound sleep, which we were guaranteed to get at the bungalow. Waking up the next day with no agenda and as we walked up to the breakfast table, I noticed a small chart giving details of the Nilgiri Mountain express. The history and clinical details of this train has been written world over so I intend to skip the finer points and get to the interesting bits. For starters, this was my second train journey with my better half and has strong memories attached. Secondly, the train we were to take was a "Toy-Train" and by all means covers some of the most scenic routes of the Nilgiris. These 2 points were more than enough for us to pack ourselves with heavy breakfast and run to the train station

One of the best parts of travelling to an otherwise highly commercialized tourist spot on a weekday and in off season, is to witness something spectacular, an empty railway station! With no more than 10 visitors in the stations, including us, the number of railway employee's seemed to be a lot. A 30 min wait to pick up first class tickets and an empty station meant that I had all the time to connect up with a few locals and soak in some history. With a handful of people on the platform of the small station, and my keen eye for books, it was a no brainer that i would head to the beaming book stall.

 

A well stocked Higginbotham’s stall would never disappoint any traveler, and this stall too was remarkably stocked with some serious collections from across the globe. The store keeper, Balasubramani (fondly referred to as Mani), has been manning this stall since 28 years. His passion towards his work is still so visible in his animated conversations with even a handful of customers (as seen on the extreme left in the photo). He speaks about his sons photos being published in a recent print edition of National Geographic with so much pride. There is a sense of personal touch in every interaction he has with strangers on the platform. Such compassion is seldom felt even at the place we work and greet back in our mundane lives.

Mani maintains a visitor book which has the first entry dated back to 1989. Boy was it fun reading some of the entries with him. The brief conversation with Mani struck such a chord that he led us to some of the best seats in the train, which was right behind the guard, with a near 300 degree viewing angle. Seats occupied, customary photographs taken and greetings exchanged with Mani, we waited for the first chugs of the steam engine. The five carriage train was so small that it had only 184 seats in total. I do hear stories of people standing during the peak season to experience this piece of history.

The mysterious and magical, yet ever so functional mechanical marvel, the steam engine, chugged in to take us through this dream ride. With all flags waving green, we were up for an experience of a lifetime in the 75 min journey. The slow pace of the train, traversing through a century old route, winding across the hill sides, peeking through a few tunnels and swaying gently to the breeze is truly like living a dream. I did think it was a tad childish, but the experience is such that it takes you back to your sub-conscious childhood, where you tend to get so absorbed in your dream, that it takes time to wake up and figure out the real from the magical.

 

A visit to a tea factory, the near two century old St. Stephens Church and the bustling old market was just the icing on the cake. Tasting chocolate tea by the road side and relishing the famous Ooty Varkey left us craving for more from this wonderful get-away. With another world renowned tourist spot checked from my list of places to visit, Ooty would surely be one of my top spots to visit again, many a times in the future. Well, only till another new destination takes my breath away....!





The Walk of a Tiger !

This forest never seizes to mesmerize my imagination and thrill that it brings in so unexpectedly every time. A perfectly sized group travelled to Bison Manor at Kutta in Coorg, a relatively new home stay with a 30 acre coffee plantation to support the family. Hugh and Vivienne, the masterminds behind this piece from heaven, were extremely engaging with every guest, making us felt like we were part of their family. The food, well I just cannot stop talking about it… Madhu and his entourage made us some of the best food we couldn’t even dream of in a star hotel at Bangalore. In short, a must visit place for anyone wanting time by themselves, but still feeling a part of the house you visit.

We just had two things to focus on in our entire trip. If we were not shamelessly gaining the pounds after gorging on some of the exotic food and deserts at Bison Manor, we were on the road, searching for any sightings of wild life that we could get. And boy, were we in for surprises through the entire trip.

After reaching our place of stay and stuffing ourselves with food, we rested for a bit and hit the road towards Wayanad Reserve Forests. One can cover multiple ranges by scanning outside the reserve limits on this route. With our jeep ready, 8 of us hit the road for some wildlife sightings. As we entered and drove nearly 30 kms on the winding hilly roads our eyes never took a blink in anticipation of getting that “perfect” story. While some of us were dreaming of capturing the exotic birds of Nilgiris, others had their eyes pierced on the bush line to find a hidden creature. I personally was scanning the trees to find a leopard stealthily hiding himself in the branches.

We had done nearly 40 kms and were reaching the last water hole on this stretch, towards the Kabini side of the forest, near Bavali. Our hopes were on the brink of being shattered and some of us had taken our forty-winks in all the silence that the forest has to offer over the last 2 hours. The evening light was fading and being a cloudy day, the light dropped drastically. We turned our vehicle to get back as it was getting late and this is Elephant territory, you’re definitely not welcome after nightfall. With a change of driver and the renewed hope of some luck, we started our drive back. The dark night in the wild keeps most of us awake for many reasons, fear of the unknown being on top of the list. With beaming eyes, we were trying to see into the dark and identify screeching nocturnal life. Eight of us, hanging from all sides of our open jeep with a 360 degree view and the night that was getting nippy by the moment, it was not one of the best things to do in the wild. Most of us started to feel the hearts pound as the silence and sudden bursts of twigs breaking made us more than uncomfortable. I was sitting in the last bench of the jeep and had my eyes directed at the back of our vehicle. We were driving slowly, since elephants could come out of nowhere and charge at us. The dark was getting eerie and the forest silent. None of us were talking and then, we heard our co-driver say… “Tiger”…

…The next 20 minutes were the most chaotic, noisy, confusing yet memorable…

Within a couple of seconds and in the dim evening light, all of us were scanning the bush and spot-on, the Tiger was comfortably sitting and staring at us. A heart beat skipped for everyone as this for the first sighting for all but one. As reality started to sink in, immediate chaos ensued… a barrage of clicks were thrown at the Tiger. The predator was a sub-adult, maybe 2-3 years old with a small head, suggesting that this was a young female that we were spotting. She was ignorant about our presence and pretended to be in total ignorance of our existence. After all, she is at the apex of the food chain and can be as cool as a cucumber in our presence. We were literally wailing at each other to get a better shot of the cat with various angles that were to offer. Just as we were getting a few shaky shots but good ones to be called record-shots, there was an oncoming bus, which we had to give way for. With the bus gone in a jiffy, we doubled-up to our spot and rejoice our “find”. She was gone…

…With the entire nuisance, we so called naturalist with immense collective knowledge of the do’s and don’ts of the forest, had created, she was bound to disappear just as mystically she had appeared. We started to drive slowly ahead and take as much light from the remainder of the evening and peek into the bush line. She was gone and our greedy human nature was crying for more, as though we had, not spent the last 20 min doing nothing. I sat back at my last bench and the corner of my eye caught a vivid detail in the dark-crimson hazy lights of the brake light. The outline of the Tiger, and I said, she is behind us…

Photo Coutesy: Fellow Photographer Karthik SM

She had silently crossed the road from where we were watching her all this while and was majestically walking by the road side, not even bothered of our presence. We, humans, were a mere mockery in her land. She walked for a while and stepped into the bushes, to continue her nocturnal adventures into the night. This was the most silent part of the 25 minutes that we had seen the tiger. Whether it was in awe of the majestic creature we had sighted, or the emotions that was gone with the Tiger, it is unclear, but the silence was loud!

I don’t think I can remember too much of the Tiger struggling to hide herself from the prying eyes of the un-invited guests for my life, but the one thing I will clearly take to the grave is the silhouette of her in the dark-crimson lighting. This image is painted in my mind for life… The walk of a Tiger!