tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88145820376554952182024-03-05T23:54:04.581+01:00The Yellow WallGargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-76615551543699596382015-02-02T18:52:00.001+01:002015-02-02T18:52:42.952+01:00Belgique<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The weekend before last, we took an extremely quick trip to Belgium and managed to simply 'touch' Brussels, Bruges and Antwerp.<br />
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I think that in absence of a car, we have been missing taking in rural scenes and towns that live between cities. Am so glad we were able to take day trains to Antwerp and Bruges. The home structures is very different from any I have seen so far, as is the architecture. I must say, the architecture and building design in Belgium used to be quite unique. Now, ofcourse, there is a more generic steel and glass design everywhere.<br />
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Brussels is the seat of the European Commission and there was a certain seriousness to the part of the citywhere the offices are. We saw a portion of the Belgium Wall outside the offices. Couldn't take a picture as it passed by too quickly and we were in a bus.<br />
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Bruges is a gorgeous town, and it so turned out that it was sunny the day we visited it. Loads of colourful homes decorate the side of roads. And it was very Venice-like, except that the canals didn't stink!<br />
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I think we had very little time in Antwerpen , but still managed to walk around a bit, go see the main square, and say hello to the port. Antwerp is the second largest port in Europe. It was rainy, cold and windy!<br />
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I think we didn't do justice to Belgium in terms of museums, urban exploring, etc. But we definitely got a feel of it. It's famous for its french fries (!!) and waffles (and ochocolates, and Antwerp for its diamonds!!)<br />
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This coming weekend will see us in Paris one last time before we formally announce the French sojourn over! :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqFQ_eLkQHwJN2I_RJftWa2J8o46dDJMdoFqH_bze-vskp9FfZXuUZ1dMFzedLBRLamw5Ny6-wEUORpqwYEUW01F9Ibgraevoj9SaRPrm-BTI1K0qamqUjvsE1it7Sn99mHUaXhgrCLio/s1600/DSCN6601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqFQ_eLkQHwJN2I_RJftWa2J8o46dDJMdoFqH_bze-vskp9FfZXuUZ1dMFzedLBRLamw5Ny6-wEUORpqwYEUW01F9Ibgraevoj9SaRPrm-BTI1K0qamqUjvsE1it7Sn99mHUaXhgrCLio/s1600/DSCN6601.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruges</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGWQOp8yOAkMZlNhGq7sPZKXcGEO0JeINXK5Q8TTkpF-Jno9j1UxwLpGuz4Rk6BZ72kNUyddGy2Rxz9HQCSYQ64do-VTr2BQVVqcD0EaXM7Sg2-PEAHBJLBwWfj8hZ0D57GrVFUw6m6FP/s1600/DSCN6656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGWQOp8yOAkMZlNhGq7sPZKXcGEO0JeINXK5Q8TTkpF-Jno9j1UxwLpGuz4Rk6BZ72kNUyddGy2Rxz9HQCSYQ64do-VTr2BQVVqcD0EaXM7Sg2-PEAHBJLBwWfj8hZ0D57GrVFUw6m6FP/s1600/DSCN6656.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruges</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_RC9oifcxwpZu3t8G1Ye1IWCb8SnR-_oyZiD6AeMj3sY7pVTPNDrFoRFAgw80GO1pGE_zhTm9e2W3hU9d7p1FR8T0GFdOX89PrHcu05v7wF2N66TGCrUnrsjw52XQXwdaPXmneo0s_bX/s1600/DSCN6663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_RC9oifcxwpZu3t8G1Ye1IWCb8SnR-_oyZiD6AeMj3sY7pVTPNDrFoRFAgw80GO1pGE_zhTm9e2W3hU9d7p1FR8T0GFdOX89PrHcu05v7wF2N66TGCrUnrsjw52XQXwdaPXmneo0s_bX/s1600/DSCN6663.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruges<span style="text-align: left;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruges</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUSRYQgh-E2lzo8KnHSXoD8v0FHgrgrgNx_CqCdYfgaixO6NMJWSNRiqcP0mLSJdIo8-D5szVVFm83gcpxnpzviA33NLkNbIG0k2AcxBWjAfH_XCcnHEr02E4Kva0RVyrXWTyV1v_YZZ_A/s1600/DSCN6728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUSRYQgh-E2lzo8KnHSXoD8v0FHgrgrgNx_CqCdYfgaixO6NMJWSNRiqcP0mLSJdIo8-D5szVVFm83gcpxnpzviA33NLkNbIG0k2AcxBWjAfH_XCcnHEr02E4Kva0RVyrXWTyV1v_YZZ_A/s1600/DSCN6728.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bruges</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7v8QWQdj3JlyKSiuRMHDOD2mss-x2KruTfI8ZrwGisyyRsf5CtpjazPQjGt5b2cxtm3LdfBz-4_ByMxG1o22F4EqvLjNrRaA0ehymV0heFr7ABHpW_qBRlTxRCqwisPASkuB-N2dJqJY/s1600/DSCN6922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7v8QWQdj3JlyKSiuRMHDOD2mss-x2KruTfI8ZrwGisyyRsf5CtpjazPQjGt5b2cxtm3LdfBz-4_ByMxG1o22F4EqvLjNrRaA0ehymV0heFr7ABHpW_qBRlTxRCqwisPASkuB-N2dJqJY/s1600/DSCN6922.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antwerp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wnw43sEseTWTbjeHIIy0wFiPlQ1vSDwBpehYU7Dw0NdgCwdZSL9HQC1PGXU5RiO_-E3RsnJZMcCYzGL1ZLrEE6PGrDyROpgxEqLkp0gs1U0jPVngc3I1KVl28gQaUtyrM5ZJY7I4mCxk/s1600/DSCN6961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wnw43sEseTWTbjeHIIy0wFiPlQ1vSDwBpehYU7Dw0NdgCwdZSL9HQC1PGXU5RiO_-E3RsnJZMcCYzGL1ZLrEE6PGrDyROpgxEqLkp0gs1U0jPVngc3I1KVl28gQaUtyrM5ZJY7I4mCxk/s1600/DSCN6961.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antwerp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTLvVH6RGEzu4X4_aVh7khjnXsithRqy_EuLVdV9OoFekVugAy6tDXsQloOTyYP7Cw5hODpmhJ_KWVGXUsHOkH-sKFcqKBhuiCOn0_i6uoZmeR9y0agz-17raJdbSSahv40c71du9mmkw/s1600/DSCN6966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTLvVH6RGEzu4X4_aVh7khjnXsithRqy_EuLVdV9OoFekVugAy6tDXsQloOTyYP7Cw5hODpmhJ_KWVGXUsHOkH-sKFcqKBhuiCOn0_i6uoZmeR9y0agz-17raJdbSSahv40c71du9mmkw/s1600/DSCN6966.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Antwerp</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQDZjc03QE8v0q7bgU_j_uT3St_zTqIM44CmZDKKdzDA_Tmnn04HlhF0gkf3YNctKFh4xsZgvue1iA1DPH9n2fN-CbRDPN_ZEgUsA8XsKg4EB1OpK70q1_iaoBakul3jysR-SOl1rJJnmh/s1600/DSCN6973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQDZjc03QE8v0q7bgU_j_uT3St_zTqIM44CmZDKKdzDA_Tmnn04HlhF0gkf3YNctKFh4xsZgvue1iA1DPH9n2fN-CbRDPN_ZEgUsA8XsKg4EB1OpK70q1_iaoBakul3jysR-SOl1rJJnmh/s1600/DSCN6973.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Antwerp</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpX8Q1mVWKvUuEc5rsDiddnVwTJ92dfBgo1k5HXwiU3hIJcOOitdk3zVDk5LlbJesKRoao80yzA01wW0s3o9DtdUtS6Yz4FEl_ZczJ_IFe6BFXdCS4PHgJeLZPuHrEBIN-ViJZBiCeAtW/s1600/DSCN6979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpX8Q1mVWKvUuEc5rsDiddnVwTJ92dfBgo1k5HXwiU3hIJcOOitdk3zVDk5LlbJesKRoao80yzA01wW0s3o9DtdUtS6Yz4FEl_ZczJ_IFe6BFXdCS4PHgJeLZPuHrEBIN-ViJZBiCeAtW/s1600/DSCN6979.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Antwerp</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFNnexdy2OvPHqCb-XXlWofTf0zKtmL06-MoXEp3xXMdmsUCKVtgkyByxk3nAHrcUe53jK1UrWtMXdT5oLBxxo2v40_XB4yJfgnk-zjvRsWkRwDSYw6JhAOnwu3PB69jvIbVsZwobeFNn/s1600/DSCN6986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFNnexdy2OvPHqCb-XXlWofTf0zKtmL06-MoXEp3xXMdmsUCKVtgkyByxk3nAHrcUe53jK1UrWtMXdT5oLBxxo2v40_XB4yJfgnk-zjvRsWkRwDSYw6JhAOnwu3PB69jvIbVsZwobeFNn/s1600/DSCN6986.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antwerp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-69302378766507335992015-01-23T21:48:00.003+01:002015-01-23T21:51:55.318+01:00Racing against time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dhaval's tenure here in France gets over when his work permit expires in March. We booked tickets to fly back home on the 28th of Feb. Two freaking, wonderful years of the adventure in France are coming to an end.<br />
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I have been trying to think of ways to make this last month the liveliest. I had told myself I will head out everyday, rain or shine. But I am not a fan of fighting cold rains and gusty winds. I'll think up of something.<br />
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I have no idea how to start the process of wind-up. I am calling people and setting dates to see them one last time over tea or coffee.<br />
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I remember the day we arrived and even before that...I remember the post I wrote when we were packing up THAT house in B'lore to come here. All I know is you leave bit and pieces of yourself wherever you go.</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-39683855822632107272014-12-31T17:19:00.001+01:002014-12-31T17:19:58.540+01:00Happy New Year's Eve<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have managed to ignore the blog lately. For the coming year, I hope for a consistency in the things I do!<br />
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I saw the sun go down and managed to get a blind spot that lasted a while.<br />
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Hope you have a glorious 2015.<br />
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-57337858566504430472014-10-02T20:26:00.000+02:002014-10-02T20:34:58.605+02:00It's October already!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love this month! Not
only is it the month of birth of all 3 of us siblings, which </span>really <span style="font-family: inherit;">isn't the only reason behind my
fondness for it. But the change in weather is beautiful. In France, apart from
temperatures dropping and going up, other seasonal changes are also so visible.
People on the streets, the colour of their clothes, the vegetables in the
market, the skies. I am pretty sure that even if I were born during one of those hot summer months, I would have loved October.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have let a couple of
months pass by without blogging about it. July was different this year. The
summer wasn't as intense as last year. And I feel these past few months have
really flown by. I remember vignettes, but feel like it all occurred ages ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In August, my sister and
her little family visited. I went to Paris to look after my niece so that my
sister and her husband can roam around the beautiful city on their own time. It was a lovely and
different experience, looking at Paris through a toddler's eyes. Short trips to
Barcelona and Madrid followed. Barcelona is a very lively city, very youthful and colourful. Madrid is a sophisticated, charming city. My sister and I had the
best experience one day in Madrid, when we treated ourselves to an evening
of Flamenco. It is such a rustic yet classic style, with live music and
singing. The style of singing reminded me of <span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ra%C3%AF" target="_blank">Raï</a></span>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A couple of friends we made last year moved to another city. In September,
I had the pleasure of having them over for dinner. They are from Romania and
their former flat mate, who attends drum class with me, is from Latvia. I
cannot begin to tell you the amount and openness of our political conversations.
For some reason, they are well aware of India’s continued issues of control
with her many neighbours. And we draw similarities from across the world,
especially from across Europe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yesterday, at Claudio's place for Hindi class, we had just
finished reading an extremely formal letter of application asking for leave of
absence. I told him nobody speaks so formally like that anymore. Perhaps, they still
write like that in the government where you have to sound like you will remain forever obliged to your superior if they grant you leave! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This led us to talk about 'monsieur' and 'madame', which literally
is 'my-sir' and 'my-dame'. He said in the great old times, the royalty used to
address their queens and kings like this. So, you are 'my-sir' or 'my-dame'. And
that continued as it is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">THAT led us to talk about the origin of the word ‘ciao’. In Italy
it is ‘hello’. In France, it is ‘bye’, although I feel it is more an outside influence than an original term in French. It turns out the Latin for ‘I am your
slave’ (used during the Roman Empire) lends itself to ‘<i>schiavo</i>’, which is Italian for ‘slave’. ‘<i>Ciao</i>’ is a version of
that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Imagine!</span></div>
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-27530643161204004392014-07-27T15:57:00.001+02:002014-07-27T15:57:44.168+02:00Get a hang!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/xk3BvNLeNgw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was only recently introduced to this instrument when a street artist was playing it in Venice. The 'hang' or 'spacedrum' was developed in as recently as 2000 in Switzerland. Can you tell that it is partially influenced by the 'ghatam', among other idiophones? I was transfixed by the sound when I first heard it, mostly because I couldn't figure out how it plays. You'd think someone is playing a string instrument!</span></div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-22832942781582507162014-07-14T12:10:00.000+02:002014-07-14T21:56:11.219+02:00My World Cup Fever<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After the FIFA WC ended in 2010, I remember updating my status on FB to say that I am relieved it's over. Life can go back to normal and my page will have some meaningful posts once again. We were living in Bangalore then and I was surprised by my countrymen's interest in a game they had no stake in, at least not a national one like we see for cricket.<br />
<br />
This year, I have been humbled by my own curiosity and have been shown my place, rightly so. I don't follow any sport religiously. But decent doses of patriotism and display of loyalty by the various teams put me in the chair in front of screens across the city showing WC matches. I don't claim to have seen them all. But the few that I saw were enough to seal the deal!<br />
<br />
One aspect of the game that had me glued was sheer athleticism. A player it reported to run nearly 7 miles in the course of a single match! Add to that the shock the body takes when players collide, fall or simply break their run to kick the ball around. It's one thing to marvel at the human body's capacity to absorb this shock (as seen in the Finals when Christoph Kramer was struck in the head) and it's another to actually go through it and come out fine and dandy!<br />
<br />
The other vital thing that helped me form an interest was my drum group. The afro-brazilian drum association is run by a fantastic percussionist from Salvador in Brazil and the form of art is Brazilian too. On opening night, when Brazil played Cameroon, we got together to play and lend beats to a local samba group. Before and after the match and during the break, we played as if consumed by the indigenous gods! The ambiance was nothing short of the much acclaimed carnivals of Rio.<br />
<br />
Other than Brazil, I found myself supporting France, which is currently my country of residence and Algeria, because a large majority of my fellow citizens are Algerians (When none of these played, the underdog got my support.) In fact, the French team has a lot of players of Algerian origin. And I am sure the security officials heaved a sigh of relief when France did not meet Algeria in what would have been an extremely aggressive face-off! Violent fans are a part of any game and this one match would have met with its fair share, without doubt. Whenever Algeria played, the roads would be lined up with police cars and officials would be found patrolling by-lanes and streets to make sure things are peaceful. When they qualified for the Cup, riots broke out in Lyon, Marseilles and Paris.<br />
<br />
Any major sporting event is organised on the weak and marginalized shoulders of labourers and sometime, at the cost of national interest, as we saw from the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2013_protests_in_Brazil" target="_blank">2013 protests across Brazil</a>. And already, the Qatar World Cup 2022 is in news for allegations of ongoing corruption and the plight of labourers who have immigrated from poorer countries for construction jobs. A number of them have lost their lives under pathetic living conditions meted out by the officials. To all of this, FIFA has turned a blind eye.<br />
<br />
I love a good event, where displays of inspiring sportsmanship and camaraderie make it worth the time. But when fanaticism, violence and reports of prejudice, discrimination and unequal treatment become abound, it's vital to remember that it's just a game. And that there are more urgent matters at hand that require global attention.</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-91580207976147810952014-06-12T13:47:00.001+02:002014-06-12T13:49:39.729+02:00What is happening to restaurant food?!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">‘If only I could find a nice,
warm plate of good food to comfort my tired bones…’ These were my thoughts as I
was walking around Venice, in May 2014, during a particularly wet and chilly
evening. It was the 6<sup>th</sup> day of our budget trip that consisted of walking
from mid morning till late night, exploring beautiful cities and monuments,
running to catch buses and trains to take us across Italy. So far, food had
consisted of rice and ready-to-eat packets of <i>chole</i>, sandwiches, and Haldiram savories. The high that comes from
being in a new place was wearing off and the body had begun to demand comfort
food and rest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few weeks before I embarked
upon this trip, I was spending an afternoon at my friend’s place. I teach him
Hindi. He, who speaks 12 other languages and teaches Spanish in high school,
gives me a chance to spend two glorious hours learning more than I can teach
him! On this particular afternoon, we were in the mood to exchange recipes. I
often describe, on demand, how to make Indian <i>subji</i>s and, on occasion, have even demonstrated the same in his
tiny kitchen. I happened to ask him about ‘spaghetti, aglio, olio e peperoncino’
and he cooked it for me and we had a good Hindi lesson over spicy, warm yet
simple spaghetti. He insisted I try to find and have some when in Italy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So on that chilly evening in
Venice, I found myself pining for some warm, fulfilling ‘spaghetti, aglio, olio
e peperoncino.’ It’s not too much to ask when you are in the heart of one of
Italy’s most famous tourist destinations, right? Turns out it is! After
settling into a cozy and well-established restaurant, I had to settle for watery
spaghetti that remained warm only for the first two bites. So you can tell that,
while it was a fresh preparation, the pasta was pre-cooked and then heated in a
microwave, perhaps? I was not alone as my husband too felt that his ‘spaghetti
pomodoro e basilico’ could have been better. We paid through the nose and
remained unsatisfied. This dissatisfaction was in continuation of a long quest
to find good, heartwarming food that is worth its penny. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was left comparing the two
versions of spaghetti I had had. The first was cooked right in front of me,
using fresh ingredients. The second was cooked in the kitchen of a good
restaurant. Was that the only difference? Then why, when eating out is so
normal, are food standards coming down? Why must the average Joe not be able to
afford an enjoyable evening in a restaurant that serves ‘good’ food? And from
the looks of it, why is it becoming so easy for restaurant owners to serve mediocre
food? Should we be scared? Personally, this only strengthens my desire to
invest in good kitchen ware to be able to dish out delicious food from the
comforts of my own kitchen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">‘Good’ food for me isn’t that what
comes in 3-4 bite-size morsels, decorated with green sprigs and a few ribbons
of colourful sauce, served on a mile-long platter. It is that which is true to
its origin and gives satisfaction, all caps. Even something as basic as <i>daal-chawal </i>and <i>roti-subji</i> can go wrong when the rice in even slightly undercooked
and the <i>roti</i> arrives ten minutes
before the <i>subji</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">With such essential things going wrong for
restaurateurs and clients demanding food to match their developing tastes as
their exposure expands, I will not be surprised when a new legion of critics
arises. This time however, the critical point of review will not be whether one
should have <i>chicken tikka</i> or <i>chicken kolhapuri</i>, but whether the
chicken was cooked at all!</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">[PS: Soon after I wrote this, a bunch of people I know started <a href="http://www.ahmedabadfoodcritics.com/">www.ahmedabadfoodcritics.com</a>, as if to </span><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">make my wishes come true! </span><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Public service takes place in many forms. And they serve</span><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"> by guiding you through the millions of upcoming fancy eateries in Ahmedabad! :)]</span></div>
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-87033538271963284302014-05-11T18:10:00.002+02:002014-05-11T18:11:29.153+02:004th time and counting<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
D and I just got back from a visit to Paris, this time accompanying D's parents who are visiting. Paris doesn't leave your system.You fall hard for it every time you visit, till a point arrives where it becomes unattainable. You cannot break through that invisible wall of <i>je ne sais qoui</i>. You are not a Parisien. You are only a tourist. And you cannot come to terms with the city until you live in it. You can only remain in awe.<br />
<br />
On Day 1, we took the train to Giverny in Vernon, where the Monet Foundation is situated. Except for the fact that it was chilly and raining, the day was great and we got to see the region of Normandy pass us by.<br />
<br />
Since we'd already been to the tick-mark places in our past 3 visits and the mood this time was really not to spend a lot of money, we walked. The day after we visited Giverny was a bright, sunny day. Perfect for my in-laws to go up the tower. We waited in line in their place till the ticket windows opened and saw them in. We had about 3 hours to kill. And we ended up walking about 5 kms from the tower to Alexandre and Rene Parodi Square. Took the bus back, which took us along the periphery. This was a more open area of Paris, less congested, equally beautiful.<br />
<br />
The next day, after helping parents take the train to Louvre and going to deposit our bags at the cloak room at Gare de Lyon, we took the metro back to Cite, where we had French onion soup by the Notre Dame and I bought a book from Shakespeare and Co. And we walked aimlessly in the Latin Quarter district, along some academic institutes to Jussieu. It was a beautiful, gloomy day. Not a lot of crowd because it was Saturday.<br />
<br />
This visit afforded us the time to really walk around and take in the sights and sounds of the city. Ever so grateful...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiMOpxG2xMTKkvb5NcxUVeLros0L9JEcb35TFtlv16WjlM1HJrl4_i7HyGYPjXlqKUuGsoZ16yIGiZ5j3o5AelU_7XueypTxCNfKyTYMjLeZRpUrgKb45xlIM0qbs_S17EixKZ2xl6Q4H/s1600/Eiffel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyiMOpxG2xMTKkvb5NcxUVeLros0L9JEcb35TFtlv16WjlM1HJrl4_i7HyGYPjXlqKUuGsoZ16yIGiZ5j3o5AelU_7XueypTxCNfKyTYMjLeZRpUrgKb45xlIM0qbs_S17EixKZ2xl6Q4H/s1600/Eiffel.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Under the iron lattice, you could hear a dozen languages and a million dreams coming true.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-10839003565654004362014-05-02T13:53:00.000+02:002014-05-02T13:53:03.231+02:00May Day Tradition<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I don't remember seeing little flowers last year, but this year on May Day, people were seen selling little sprigs of flowers on streets. Buses and trains weren't working, offices were closed, but streets were full of tourists and restaurants were making good business. In the midst of it all, I'd see people holding these little flowers. I was wondering what tradition it was to give flowers on Labour Day.<br />
<br />
This morning, I went to the regular guy to buy some vegetables. At check out, the lady at the counter gave me this familiar looking sprig with little white flowers. Aah! I asked her what it was and she said it's a May Day tradition.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6yLUHwtjkqyVPi_ATWc0qq80ZJ9pbKMtZo4s-qMkNUD9ZSES0K2skWURr8t_kqcP8-tzm7KQY8n6S3aSB9XzXSpGaXsJegKHIWR1Ct9DLhv3qzQK89wnteeZ3QvbxKF88gSz7vEEYZzbJ/s1600/020520141926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6yLUHwtjkqyVPi_ATWc0qq80ZJ9pbKMtZo4s-qMkNUD9ZSES0K2skWURr8t_kqcP8-tzm7KQY8n6S3aSB9XzXSpGaXsJegKHIWR1Ct9DLhv3qzQK89wnteeZ3QvbxKF88gSz7vEEYZzbJ/s1600/020520141926.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Still not satisfied, I came home and looked up the internet and found some interesting story behind this lovely tradition.<br />
<br />
<i>"SHOPS are shut, buses are not running, and unions are marching for workers’ rights, as France marks the Fête du Travail today. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>But, as well as work and workers, May 1 - which became a public holiday in France in 1947 - is associated with an older tradition. It is the Fête du Muguet, when thousands of roadside stalls selling lily of the valley spring up. </i><i>The flower only became associated with workers’ rights in the 20th century. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Last year the French forked out €31.8m to buy a sprig of lily of the valley (“muguet”) as a token of affection for family and loved ones. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The tradition of giving lily of the valley flowers on May 1 is said to have begun in 1560, when knight Louis Girard presented King Charles IX with a bunch of lily-of-the-valley flowers as a token of luck and prosperity for the coming year. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>It is said that he took a shine to the idea and began the custom of presenting lily-of-the-valley flowers to the ladies of his court each year on the same day. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Growers, particularly in the Loire-Atlantique, where 80% of cultivated plants will come from this year, have said that the recent mild conditions mean a bumper crop."</i></div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-91858860738106306532014-03-28T23:59:00.001+01:002014-03-28T23:59:09.356+01:00Solidarity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I spent this afternoon with my friend whom I met in drum class. She was planting some things in her garden and had given a shout out to anyone who was keen to help.<br />
<br />
Naturally, I went to her place and to help her plant some tomatoes, strawberries, aubergines, and courgettes. On her terrace, there is a heightened platform of about a feet high, and about 4 by 4 in size. The earth in it had to be turned, pebbles removed, little weeds pulled out. A bunch of her other female friends had turned up too.<br />
<br />
It turned out to be an afternoon of fun. I was meeting a few women for the first time. But over snacks and tales, we became acquainted and I found solidarity in this group which spanned across different ages and nationalities.<br />
<br />
I know I am right when I smile at a stranger. I know it's the right foot forward when I say 'yes' to almost everything and 'no' almost never crosses my mind. I know I am right when I ask a question and am answered back in kind. And that's how a conversation begins.<br />
<br />
That's all one needs to do to live a life filled with a colourful bouquet of experiences.<br />
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-47022601145373282842014-02-23T09:16:00.000+01:002014-02-23T09:16:05.050+01:00Silence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This morning, I found myself reading the newspaper without any surrounding noise and interruption. I looked up, checked myself and realized this was the first time since I arrived in India in early January that I had some time to myself.<br />
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Coming to Ahmedabad to visit my parents and siblings, whether from Bangalore or elsewhere, means a few days of peace and quiet and zero plans and commitments. It ALWAYS turns out to be the opposite.<br />
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This time around, there were a few events we had specifically wanted to be a part of. We welcomed a baby girl born to my sister-in-law in Bangalore. The 3 weeks preceding that saw me running around and lending a helping hand to anyone who asked. Besides, I was in Bangalore, my second home. I didn't want to miss out to reliving some past moments either. So meeting friends and driving alone at night along the inner ring road were high on the agenda.<br />
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My stay in Ahmedabad so far has been about eating out, eating in, managing and helping around the house and baby-sitting my niece and taking her out. My parents are busy people (!!) and I am often found wishing for some time away with just them for company. That way I can have undivided attention and some exclusive time with them.<br />
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I just returned from a wedding late last night. Weddings can be such an emotional time! It starts really high and ends with a really bad low. I was meeting some cousins after a long time, some for the first time.I was left wishing we'd meet more often, or at least be able to spend some more time together for some more fun and frolic. The older relatives looked older and I wished for their health. For some, I was left wondering if I'll be able to see them again. This entire gamut of emotions hits you within a short period....some 24 hours. And you are left alone to nurse the hangover...heavy-lid eyes, memories of laughter, separation pangs, heavy hearts, etc.<br />
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So a quiet morning seems meditative. I feel like for the first time in a long time, I was able to concentrate on the food in my plate and taste the <i>daal</i> and rice over lunch with my 87 year old, highly intellectual uncle who is missing the sense of speech and sound since he was 6 months old. Lunch felt like a meditation exercise. And I realized I had finally achieved the tall speeches 'life coaches' make about the power of silence.</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-61521973015578150912014-01-02T00:59:00.000+01:002014-01-02T00:59:59.829+01:00Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Time is endless in Your hands, O God. There is none to count Your minutes.</div>
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Days and nights pass, and ages bloom and face like flowers. You know how to wait.</div>
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Your centuries follow one another in perfecting a small wildflower.</div>
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We have no time to lose, and having no time, we must scramble for our chances. We are too poor to be late.</div>
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Thus it is that time goes by, while I give it to every querulous person who claims it, and Your altar is empty of all offerings to the last.</div>
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At the end of the day, I hasten in fear lest the gate be shut, but I find that there is yet time.</div>
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<i>- 'The Heart of God' - Prayers of Rabindranath Tagore, </i></div>
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<i>Selected and edited by Herbert F. Vetter</i></div>
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-21188951750318042592013-12-19T16:29:00.000+01:002013-12-19T16:29:00.158+01:00Tranquil<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am learning how to use Photoshop for <a href="http://www.rasadhwani.com/" target="_blank">Rasadhwani</a>.<br />
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I look outside to see dense fog and rain at 4:30 PM.<br />
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There is a bad cold in my head, threatening to spoil the first few days of a short trip we are embarking upon tomorrow.<br />
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Last night, at the party announcing Xmas break at drum class, I realized I might be heart broken when we finally have to move back home to India.<br />
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Pi's lullaby is on repeat.<br />
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There is a soft glow in the room from the lamp besides me.<br />
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Another year is coming to an end and I don't mind going down on my knees to say thanks to the powers that are.<br />
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I know 2014 is bringing me loads of positiveness and contentment, and I hope you find yours.</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-68714333976509045182013-11-23T20:22:00.000+01:002013-11-23T20:28:21.283+01:00The Parisian Affair<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(Part 1 and 2 are <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2013/10/swiss-pass-ed.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2013/10/germanized.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)<br />
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(<i>This trip officially got over roughly a month and a half ago. That I am writing about it only now shows how lazy I have been about it. Bear with me! When I forget something, I look at pictures, close my eyes, or turn around and ask my husband. It helps that I do not have any major responsibilities bogging me down!</i>)<br />
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As we bid goodbye to Germany and drove towards Paris, I felt a little melancholic. We were leaving behind the green mountains, which will soon be barren and ready for the white blanket of snow.<br />
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Big city Paris awaited us and I was really looking forward to visiting the city a second time. But it was a long way to go and just as we entered France from Germany, we decided to head to Strasbourg. It was on the way, no detour was required, and it doesn't hurt to spend some time in a new city. Strasbourg is just across the border, a big French city, heavily influenced by German architecture.<br />
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We parked near the city centre, walked towards the centre and came across a beautiful music shop selling excellent music. I bought a Brazilian capoeira music CD and my SIL got a classic...I think Bach. I could be wrong.<br />
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A walk around town brought us to a cathedral with Gothic architecture and beautiful colored glasses inside. Some pictures of Strasbourg.<br />
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I was really excited to see Paris again and see it through a fresh pair of eyes and also see it through my own memory. We left Strasbourg at around 1 that afternoon and estimated the arrival time at Paris around 5 hours later. It took us longer than that. We underestimated driving into the city, through the city. Not only were we met with traffic as we entered the city, but we also had to find our way through the city to our hotel. Small lanes, sometimes uphill, made navigation difficult. Eventually, we reached the hotel reception centre where the receptionist was practically waiting for us at the door. We quickly went through the formalities. We were told the studio used to be Picasso's studio while he lived in this district! My SIL and I decided to walk to the apartment and the guys followed reluctantly by car.<br />
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It was late by the time we settled in and we still had to go and deliver the car. We were tired after 2 hours of driving rather aimlessly in city traffic and must have broken a few traffic rules as well. It was absolute horror because we were racing across the city to deliver the car before 11 that night or face being charged for another day and we couldn't find a gas station. We managed fine with a few gentle souls to help us along the way.<br />
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I cannot begin to describe the excitement of living in the SAME apartment where Picasso lived! And we had direct, clear view of the Eiffel tower! For the next 4 days, we had unrestricted access to Paris as never before. We were not confined by schedules and maps. My brother and his wife were! But D and I were visiting for the second time and we just walked around, planned around their plans, and soaked in the very unique atmosphere of the city.<br />
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One particular moment stands out. D and I were at Sacré-Cœur Basilica in the Montmartre district of Paris. It was around noon. The sun was shining bright and we joined the other tourists and sat at the stairs. Our backs faced the basilica and we had a direct view of the city from the hilltop. There was a artist playing the harp and just as we sat, he started to play the Canon D. Now this tune is so close to my heart and I was in this marvelous city...the moment caught up on me and it was pure magic! I literally teared up behind my glasses!<br />
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Over the next few days, we ate pastries, cooked at the studio, stared at the tower from our windows till after midnight, visited <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Les_Invalides" target="_blank">Les Invalides</a></i> and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catacombs_of_Paris" target="_blank">Catacombs</a>. The fees at the former were a little steep and we stood in line to enter the Catacombs but they stopped entry just when it was our turn. N and S were able to visit it the next day, though. We walked to the <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panth%C3%A9on,_Paris" target="_blank">Panthéon</a> </i>and we were able to attend the mass service one fine Sunday morning at the Notre Dame Cathedral!<br />
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I played guide where I could, we ate ice cream and ate the lovely, hot French-onion soup, listened to artists and stopped to applaud and drop a few coins everywhere we saw them, at metro stations, under bridges, on the roadside. We repeated the <a href="http://paris.fattirebiketours.com/" target="_blank">bicycle tour</a> we took the first time, in which we cycled around the city for 3 hours as night set upon us and then took a cruise along the Seine. D and I took <a href="http://www.discoverwalks.com/" target="_blank">walk tours</a> and walked around the city with locals showing us the unknown nooks and corners of the city.<br />
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If it were possible, I'd be the one getting caught red-handed having a passionate affair with the city. Nothing I say and nothing you read and watch on TV can come close to describing the feeling of being IN the city. Would I live there? Perhaps a younger and careless self would have loved it. But the current self is just happy it got to visit the city a 3rd time, only for a weekend, to watch a dance recital! I planned my weekend in such a way that I allowed only 12 hours under the roof of a friend. The entire time I was out and about, walking along the Seine, sitting by the Eiffel and visiting the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mus%C3%A9e_d%27Orsay" target="_blank">Musée d'Orsay</a>.<br />
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Anyways, I had to get back to Marseille to commence dance lessons so D and I got back in the morning train and the other two followed at night. We were upon our last leg of this marvelous tour! Like always, when I end a travel post, I realise how lucky I have been to be able to see the places I have and experience these different cultures. An open heart and a smile on the face can get you some very good education. </div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-66188400637044713922013-11-10T20:04:00.000+01:002013-11-23T18:16:43.056+01:00Too much on my plate is a good thing.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have yet to write the 3rd and final part of our September trip. It is will be about Paris, the city I have been to once more since the trip, and the French Riviera. I will write about it all soon.<br />
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I have been caught up with some stuff. As you might know, my mum and sister run a dance school in Ahmedabad. <a href="http://www.rasadhwani.com/" target="_blank">Rasadhwani</a> is celebrating 25 years and we are planning to celebrate in style. I maintain a <a href="http://rasadhwanidance.blogspot.fr/" target="_blank">blog</a> for Rasadhwani. The idea is to invite people from different backgrounds to talk about art. If you or anyone you know is interested, please send an e-mail to <u>rasadhwani.info@gmail.com</u>.<br />
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I started a travel blog about 6 months ago. But it hasn't seen much activity, not for lack of action on the travel front but for the lack of time to maintain 3 blogs. I think I am going to delete it.<br />
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Since the beginning of October, I have started teaching Hindi once a week to a 55 year-old Argentinean who is a high-school Spanish teacher, knows 12 different languages including Greek, Hebrew and Yiddish and has written a book on tango. He already knows quite a bit of Hindi. I think I help him revise and get comfortable with the language. He lives in a small apartment , sort of like a loft. All four walls, from ceiling to floor are filled with racks of books. He must easily have close to 2000 books in different languages. It reminds me of Sean Connery's apartment in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finding_Forrester" target="_blank">Finding Forrester</a>. I say I go to teach but one can safely say I come back learning more!<br />
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I also take a private dance lesson once a week for an Indian lady. And, D and I go learn afro-brazilian percussion! This has been such a great find!! We absolutely love going there. There are about 5 different types of percussion and we picked the one we liked in the first class and continue to learn on that. It's like playing in a band. If you want to see what I mean, go see this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FUGjR4siwg" target="_blank">video</a>.<br />
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It's cold and windy as I speak. Because of the time of the year, combined with the end of day lights saving, it gets dark earlier. I have been told to watch out for Jan and Feb when it gets really bad. We'll have to wait and see!</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-45744179313256484672013-10-25T02:01:00.002+02:002013-11-23T20:23:15.807+01:00Germanized!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(Part 1 of the trip is <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2013/10/swiss-pass-ed.html" target="_blank">here</a>. Part 3 is <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2013/11/the-parisian-affair.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)<br />
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We felt like we had stepped into heaven when we visited Switzerland. And for some reason, Germany felt a notch lower. The border between the two countries is nothing grand. One minute you are in Switzerland, the next in Germany. The only marker was a guard who stopped us to ask if we were tourists.<br />
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The moment you drive into Germany, the house structure changes. This felt very unique because the landscape is still the same but the houses are now <a href="https://www.google.fr/search?q=bavarian+houses&espv=210&es_sm=122&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=kLJmUvzBBOLF0QWJnYGoAw&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAQ&biw=1366&bih=667" target="_blank">Bavarian</a> in structure. The weather had started to change. And at around 3, when we reached Triberg, on our way to Baden-Baden, it was a little dark and chilly.<br />
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Triberg lies in the middle of the Black Forest. It's a little town but we still had difficulty finding parking. The only tourist place on offer was a nature park. I decided not to go hike in the park and I didn't miss much. Instead, I walked around the little town square, checked out the traditional dresses on sale and had a large cup of coffee. And packed for us a slice of the best black forest cake we've ever had! Forget anything remotely close to a black forest cake that you think you've had! Because I can tell you right now that whatever you have had will NEVER be close to the real thing! (That's Triberg town centre in the picture below.)<br />
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From here, we headed to Baden-Baden. We reached in the evening when it was already dark. But after a long day of driving, the wooden cottage just outside town was a sight much welcomed! After a quick meal of bread and palak-paneer, which was heated in the basin full of hot water, we called it a day. I remember this evening particularly because I found myself in the serene, quiet and chilly surroundings in the middle of Black Forest in Germany, reading a chick book based on Irish folk-lore. It was an <i>aha </i>moment!<br />
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The next day, we headed to the place that started it all! It was the picture of Lichtenstein Castle on a cousin's FB page that had played a pivotal role in helping us decide where to travel! The castle is about 2 hours from Baden-Baden. So after a hearty breakfast, we drove through the Forest and arrived at the castle at around noon. It is situated on a cliff and on a clear day, as was the case for us, you could see the castle as you drive up to it. Although the current owner who is a duke does not live in the castle, it is still private property. Cameras were not allowed inside the castle and only the castle grounds and the first two floors of the castle are open to public. We took a guided tour of the castle. It is still restored every 30 years; repaint the walls, polish the furniture, etc. More than the interiors, the placement of the castle and its grand structure was what really fascinated me.<br />
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After a couple of hours at the castle and no concrete plan, we headed to the nearest town and stopped of some grub. The city of Stuttgart was on the way to Baden-Baden. Stuttgart is home to the Mercedes-Benz brand. We thought we'll go take a look. But we disregarded a couple of things. 1.) Stuttgart is a city and like any city, it has parking woes and traffic woes. 2.) We didn't do our homework properly and got confused between the Benz museum and the Benz Arena. hence, we reached a place we weren't supposed to go in the first place. And we reached so late in the evening that heading back to the right place didn't stand a chance. So after a few pictures around the Arena, we knew it was time to head back to Baden-Baden. We didn't want to risk driving in the night on a foreign highway. Little did we know!<br />
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The drive back to BB, which was supposed to take a little over an hour, took more than 4 hours because we got stuck in a bumper-to-bumper jam caused by some stormy type rains which must have lasted about 5 minutes. At one point, it was raining so heavily, visibility was next to zero and we really were on the edge of our seats. After what seemed like hours in the close to 11 km jam, we reached BB so late that we couldn't find a place to eat. After a bit of tired driving around. we chanced upon a biker's bar that served beer and pizza. Anything would have worked at that hour so this smoky, noisy bar was more than welcomed. The place turned out to be so lively we decided to come back the next day.<br />
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The following day was dedicated to seeing the beautiful town of Baden-Baden. It seemed like a wealthy place and very classy. We took a ride in the <i>petit-train</i> and shopped for excellent salads from the local market. Back to the rooms for a very late but memorable lunch, some rest and back to town to soak in the early summer evening. Dinner was, as planned, at the bar.<br />
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It had been a memorable few days in Germany. Both the guys had gotten very comfortable driving the car and we were looking forward to heading towards Paris the next day. We were already half way through the trip. Time flies when you are having fun when all you want to do in capture each moment in a bottle and never let it escape.</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-91326523610592230292013-10-06T23:13:00.002+02:002013-11-23T20:24:27.890+01:00Swiss Pass-ed!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>Paris </i>is Paris, Marseille is rough around the edges, Lyon is the settled and calm, older sibling and Geneva is sophisticated and important. With the UN headquarters and over 130 banks, Geneva exuded a sense of decorum and an air of seriousness that we basked in for a few hours before we took the train to meet my brother and SIL in Interlaken. We were able to go see the UN and UNHCR buildings, picnic around the big lake and take the <i>petit</i> train to go see the Old Town before heading back to the <i>gare, </i>collect our luggage from the locker and catch the train to our final destination for the day.<br />
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<i>We bought</i> our Swiss Pass before we started out since we'd be needing it for every means of transportation we took till we left Switzerland. I can't begin to list the advantages of the Pass, but fewer hassles about tickets and waiting lines would be it! We changed trains at Berne and passed by the beautiful towns of Thun and Spiez before the train started bordering Lake Thun to reach Interlaken. We were tired, the evening was setting upon us but the view along the way was to die for! It made for a warm welcome into Interlaken. The long trip had finally started and the inevitable excitement made me giddy.<br />
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<i>We had</i> booked rooms in Hotel Burgseeli, run by a fashionable and extremely warm and friendly lady in her mid 50s. We had for company a lake right across the road, the mountains and the accompanying silence. That evening, we had the first of the few warm meals we'd be having for the next few weeks and got ready to head to Jungfraujoch the next day.<br />
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<i>Jungfraujoch </i>is a mountain pass which leads to the Jungfrau summit, in the Bernese Alps. (Wiki-ed) We reached Kleine Scheidegg by local train and stopped to take pictures, drink coffee and eat the lovely, hot apple strudel! From here, we took the Jungfrau railway to go to the top of Europe. They built it more than a century ago and it is an engineering marvel! The weather was perfect. The peaks were snowed in but the sky was clear, and the hills around us were green and dotted with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chalet" target="_blank">chalets</a>, as we gained height in the cog-wheel train.<br />
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<i>A typical tourist attraction</i> awaited us at the top. Ice tunnels that depicted the history, ice caves, ice carvings, a roof top to experience the snow and of course a restaurant. Some parents, when their kids are visiting destinations they themselves couldn't, give money to them as offering at a temple or such. Our parents, who had visited Jungfrau 2 years ago, advised us to celebrate with champagne. There we were, in nature's lap, marveling at world class engineering, raising a toast to it all with champagne!<br />
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<i>At the fun arena</i> up the mountain, after much debate, we decided to buy tickets for an hour of tubing down the snow hill. Fortunately, they'd built at escalator to climb up so we could do about 5-6 rounds of tumbling down and screaming our heads off before we decided that was enough play for the day. By late afternoon, it was time to head back home. The weather had played perfect companion and the fun we'd had up in the mountain wouldn't have been possible if it were raining and stormy.<br />
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<i>The next day</i>, after spending the morning walking around the beautiful town of Interlaken, we headed towards Lucerne. We timed ourselves in a way to be able to catch a boat across lake Brienz to go to town Brienz from where we took the train to Lucerne. We bought sandwiches and had lunch on the boat. About half an hour into the ride, we realized were headed straight for some dense fog and rain. It was a memorable ride and we arrived a bit soaked and more than ready to sit inside the heated train compartments. .<br />
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<i>Lucerne turned</i> out to be an affluent city with fancy cars, a intricate transport system and beautiful people. It spoke rich money and we loved the very feel of it. Our place here was Villa Marie, a dorm style accommodation with 4 rooms on a floor that had a common bathroom. Again, a different experience, one we embraced with wide, open arms. After a bit of asking around and waiting it out under a bus-stop for the rain to subside, we reached the rooms, left our bags and headed out to walk the path along the lake right behind the villa. We were in for a surprise are the skies were just opening up and we saw not one, but TWO rainbows form and disperse over the lake right in front of our eyes! Swans in the lake, hills around it, people running along the lake, quiet sounds of the evening as flora and fauna settled in for the night; these accompanied us as we walked about, taking pictures and thinking of way to stay back forever!<br />
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<i>Mt. Titlis beckoned</i> the following day. Upon reaching Engelberg by train, we took the short walk to the base of the mountain and took cable cars and the 360-degree Rotair ride to head up the mountain. The ride up gave us views of Swiss cows working the pastures below, streams and surrounding mountains. This day could have been the same as our day in Jungfrau. Except, it was snowing and we walked in the snow and tried to make angels in the snow and stuck our tongues out before heading inside to the restaurants for warm cups of noodles. We didn't forget to hug the life-size cardboard cutouts of Kajol and Shahrukh Khan from DDLJ!<br />
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<i>We wanted</i> to spend some time in the beautiful city of Lucerne. So, as soon as we reached the base of Titlis and had a cup of tea from the Indian vendor there (!!), we rushed to catch the train to Lucerne and were met with, once again, rain! It didn't dampen our spirits and we walked around the city, peaked into windows of beautiful shops and went and saw the mourning lion at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lion_Monument" target="_blank">Lion Monument</a>.<br />
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<i>The next day</i>, as on all days before, we had our fill of breakfast which included, fruit, cereals, coffee and cheese. We were renting a car today to drive to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhine_Falls" target="_blank">Rhine Falls</a>. It was the first time any of us was driving in Europe. While we had been observing traffic rules all this while, I wouldn't be lying when I say there was a nervous edge to our breakfast that morning!<br />
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<i>About an hour</i> after 9:00 AM, we had ourselves a Volkswagen Touran, stuffed with bags, food and 4 excited adults headed to the town of Schaffhausen in northern Switzerland. We walked down the hill to the river falls, got swept in by the thunderous sound it made and took the boat ride that went to an island in the middle of the falls!<br />
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<i>We had </i>a quick lunch in a restaurant across the river, headed back to the car and sped off in the general direction of Germany. Switzerland had been kind. And in the middle of EU fiascoes like France, Italy and Germany, the country and its people stand proud in not having joined the EU. There was this sense everywhere we went and I guess that's what resulted in the affluence and the sense of ease in its people.<br />
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(Part 2 is <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2013/10/germanized.html" target="_blank">here</a>. Part 3 is <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2013/11/the-parisian-affair.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-45854368403642723452013-09-29T21:45:00.000+02:002013-10-07T08:48:33.721+02:00Reality bites <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Someone hit me, and hit me fast! Tomorrow is Monday and I need to get back to reality. For, after 18 days of travelling and pinching myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming, only a punch in the face can bring me back to the ground.<br />
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On our latest trip we had company that we were most grateful for. When we first announced our impending move to France, my brother and his wife were the first to announce and confirm that they'll be visiting us before the year was up. And visit they did! After a few months of deciding which places to visit while they were here (which was some what influenced by travel shows on TV and pictures posted by other people on FB), we picked Switzerland, Black Forest in Germany, Paris and of course Marseille and the French Riviera. It was the first time around in Europe for all of us and we were as excited as we can be!<br />
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Except for when they flew in to Zurich, we were on land to get from point to point. We used the Swiss Pass in Switzerland, rented a car to get to Germany and drive around Baden-Baden and onto Paris where we used the lovely metro system, reserved ourselves some seats in the TGV to get back home to Marseille and rented a car again to drive along the southern coast of France.<br />
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We reached Switzerland via Geneva on the 13th and met them in Interlaken to begin this memorable adventure. The first few days, they were without fresh clothes since their bags hadn't reached them. But we had loads of extra warm clothing and this little hiccup didn't seem to matter at all.<br />
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The first 8 days of our trip looked like the map below. We looked online for cheap, clean places to stay in Interlaken, Lucerne, Baden-Baden and Paris for this leg of the tour. I can say from the bottom of my heart that a little room in a warm, wooden cottage in a village offers more pleasure and adds lovely vignettes to your memories than a standard sized room in a hotel in the middle of a city.<br />
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After we spent 5 days in Paris and got back home, we drove to lake Sainte-Croix and the region around it (which the two of us visited some time back and I wrote about it <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2013/07/lets-backtrack.html" target="_blank">here</a>.) It was very different at this time of the year and we were able to stop at a vineyard to taste some wine and buy a bottle or two! The two-day drive along the coast that we ventured out on looked like the map below. We took the scenic route when we started and took the freeway to get home faster.<br />
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I am tired and a little sad because the house is back to its silent self after they left this afternoon. But I have a prayer in my heart for the safe trip we had, for the places we saw and the people we met along the way, for the ability and the means we are given to see these beautiful foreign lands, for the times we spent together, for making our dreams come true. I do not take it for granted one bit. Yes, travel is much more common today than before. Yes, people rattle off names of countries they've visited like they do the months of a year. But that is not for me and I am ever so thankful.<br />
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I'll post some pictures soon and try and talk about how each place was different from the other.<br />
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-72932800662542075132013-09-06T15:47:00.005+02:002013-09-06T22:16:33.432+02:00Hello...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's like someone turned on a switch which made the crowds disappear, the heat more bearable, evenings shorter and the nights chillier. The music, which earlier sounded of cheerful beats and choruses is now mournful, accompanied by a trumpet and a rasta crooning songs of longing. In the past one week itself we heard of a couple of shootings around town. Seems like they too were waiting for the happy summer to pass. Everyone is now back to business!<br />
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For tomorrow, the city is preparing for a parade of the sail boats big and small. We will go watch this from the Pharo, a fort with an advantage of height and a direct view of the bay. Sunday brings in the <a href="http://www.marseille.fr/sitevdm/jsp/site/Portal.jsp?document_id=19096&portlet_id=8" target="_blank">VIVACITE</a>, when I am putting up a performance. (Do watch out for yours truly in the video provided in the link!) I finally got my residency card and am much relieved that I'll be able to travel outside France without any worry. The end of next week brings my brother and his wife to Europe. I look forward to it. If it were left to me, I would load all my favourite people in a van and drive them across the world to my place here. And I would house them with me and I would cook for them delicious food that encourages heady conversations around dining tables.<br />
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A couple of weeks ago, we went hiking along a trail just outside Marseille. We were more keen on seeing a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calanque" target="_blank">calanque</a>. So after about 1/2 an hour of walking when we realized we were moving away from the coast, we turned back and made a beeline for the sea. It was rough, there was a chill in the air, it was very windy, and fortunately the sun was out. You know that place where you go to relax and gather your thoughts, that place that you can call your own? I think I found mine.<br />
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-10179995378004614242013-08-24T20:10:00.000+02:002013-08-24T20:10:08.178+02:00Summer goodbyes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Marseille saw a loadful of tourists this summer; the crowds have already begun to thin and it's not even the end of August. Farewell to humidity, summer clothes, Italian glacée and boisterous noises from the streets below.<div>
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We just got from Fort St. Jean which about a 150 feet outside our apartment. It has two bridges, one that connects to <a href="https://www.google.fr/search?q=mucem&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hl=en&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&tab=wi&ei=zfAYUpFzzNjRBajXgMgF&biw=1366&bih=667&sei=6vAYUreQB6Sn0QXRxICICQ" target="_blank">MuCem</a> over a body of water and another that connects to a roadway, over another roadway!</div>
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It has fantastic views of the sea and this evening, it was choppy and cloudy. And it looked like a few boats might topple over.</div>
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We spent last weekend in Lyon. It's the 3rd largest city in France. It's such a beautiful and civilized city. I would call it a miniature version of Paris in what it offers to tourists, but much more calmer. I would call Marseille its cousin from the village, with its rough corners and rustic, sailor-friendly life style. You'd still have to keep up with fashion if you lived in Lyon. But you could smile and talk across in the Metro and be sure that it will be reciprocated. </div>
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For pictures of the beautiful city and its <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Traboule" target="_blank">traboules</a>, please go <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151503844282723.1073741828.696547722&type=1&l=6388a543da" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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I am STILL waiting for my residency card. It allows visits to other EURO countries and it's high time we set foot outside the country. I feel like time is passing us by. Not that I wouldn't be grateful even if France is all I could see. But still....</div>
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-55470931226851025752013-07-18T22:46:00.001+02:002013-07-19T00:09:15.234+02:00Put the gods in the check-in, please.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you've read my <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2012/07/om-venkateshay-namah.html" target="_blank">criticism of Tirupati</a>, you'd chastise and think the worst of this Hindu/ Brahmin/ Shaivite female. But let me give you a reason to think otherwise. <i>Or add to your reprimand of me.</i><br />
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The first time I was packing all of my stuff into big bags was when I was to move to Bangalore where I was to settle after marriage. Mum gave me a packet of cotton wicks and a pouch with silver <i>pooja samaan </i>in it. Now that I think of it, she must have given me those to make some point. One of her two daughters out of three children was moving away to make a world of her own and she had to make sure she was armed with the right things. We did not grow up in a religious environment. But mum did believe in a little <i>havan </i>once in a while, and she never failed to light <i>diyas</i> twice a day. Only when she wouldn't want to break the flow of whatever she was doing (mostly writing/reading for her doctorate), she'd ask us to light it. Nothing was enforced upon us.<br />
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The scenario surrounding temple visits is quite laughable. Our apartment shared a wall with a temple. I have seen that temple grow STEADILY<i>. </i>While as a child, I never understood how, I think I have a fair idea now. I don't remember a single day when my mum visited. Her entire life, she has visited only two temples, and they turn out to be her late mother's favorites. Religious festivals at this temple behind our house meant blaring loud speakers, which was a constant point of annoyance during exams. On an occasion or two, Daddy may have gone and cut the electric wires that connected to the sound system.<br />
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The second time I was packing my stuff was 2.5 years later, to make a move half way across the world to spend a year in Atlanta in the U.S. By now, my religious sensitivities had expanded a bit to include those of my husband's family's. That meant visiting a temple once in a while. There was a corner in the kitchen cabinet with photo frames of various gods, some vermilion and the requirements needed to light <i>diyas. </i>Only I know the number of times that corner was used...mostly before embarking upon journeys - "<i>Keep the house safe, may we return home safely, may we face no obstacles</i>". My mother-in-law did not enforce upon me a thing and I saw that my husband was quite cool about the whole deal. To carry with me to the U.S., she made sure I packed these gods. Pappa wrapped them in newspaper. Again, that omnipresent packet of wicks from my mum, some small books. Again, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I used those wicks. (<i>There were Indian stores in Atlanta that housed an abundance of anything you'd want for any religious activity. So it turned out no one should have worried, really!</i>)<br />
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Within a few months of our return, we booked our first flat and I knew what I wanted from both sets of parents. From my mother, I asked for a set of books of hymns, <i>slokas</i>, the works. From D's mother, I asked for a small wooden <i>mandir </i>to be built when the flat was ready. She was very moved because she had thought of the same thing. By now, I was lighting <i>diyas </i>at least once a day. What was it? Was I finally becoming 'religious'? I think it was my way of asking for help, forgiveness, saying thanks...all-in-one. I must agree, there is a sense of <i>sukoon</i> in lighting <i>diyas</i>. Whenever D's parents came and stayed with us, I made sure to ask mum to light the <i>diya</i> in the morning because I know how much a part of her life it is, this activity.<br />
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The third time I found myself packing my stuff was 3 years later when we were moving to Marseille, where we are currently. This time, due to a very limited baggage allowance, I carried only two photo frames of gods, a male and a female (!!). I thought I had carried that packet of cotton wicks, but it turned out I hadn't. Was I fretful and disturbed? No. By now, I had come to realize the ease with which I can come across things to feed my sense of faith. I thought I will, one day, yearn for some religious permanence in daily life. But my photo-framed companions are gathering dust, I am afraid to say.<br />
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With no routine to follow and no need to rush through the day, I have observed the seasonal changes. I have seen and experienced smiles and greeting and friendliness in the eyes of strangers. Every evening, depending on how low the fiery ball of fire is in the horizon, any one - <i>and only one </i>- of the thousand windowpanes in this part of the city catches that fierce orange light. There I see the <i>diya</i>...and I pay my respects.<br />
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-30470176082948382022013-07-15T11:58:00.000+02:002013-07-15T12:13:29.537+02:00Let's backtrack...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>14th July, 2013</b><br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bastille_Day" target="_blank">Bastille Day</a>, I think, is synonymous to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Independence_Day_(India)" target="_blank">August 15th, 1947</a>. Except that the common French kicked royalty and the church in their respective butts when they decided to revolt about 2 centuries ago. The essence of the revolt is probably lost, as is the case with most countries whose forefathers fought colonialism to gain independence. That does not deter the French from celebrating their national day with pomp and fanfare!<br />
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We are so lucky to living bang in the middle of the city where ALL the action takes place. In the evening, we got a glimpse of the airshow they were conducting near the beach. We were told to watch out for fireworks later that night. I thought we'll get a good look from the window in our living room. D thought we ought to go out and see them. So around 9:00 last night we headed out with the camera and walked around to get a good place to sit and that offered a good view.<br />
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As is the case with celebrations in Vieux Port, restaurants were loaded with people, terraces were filled with people enjoying their private BBQ parties, roads were blocked to vehicular traffic and everybody was literally pouring onto the streets.<br />
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Once we found a place to sit, we settled and waited patiently for the 2- minute fireworks display to start. At the exact moment it was about to start, they shut the street lights and the show began. I cannot begin to explain the magnanimity of the event nor the scale at which it was being conducted. Huge lights, lasers, synchronized music and fireworks...that's what we saw for the next 25 minutes. It was enthralling, to say the least!<br />
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Videos and pictures do not do justice. But go <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8G2b3OeXENk" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTWPKZFo2BA" target="_blank">here</a> for a glimpse.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Calling it a night...</td></tr>
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<b>6th July, 2013</b><br />
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Lavender blooms around this time of the year. Fields of purple hue are left to fully bloom till they are harvested by the end of July. From the time they start appearing till they are harvested, there is a window of opportunity of about 2-3 weeks to go see these beautiful flowers, take pictures and trample around the French country side. </div>
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After twice being told to delay the visit by a week because they hadn't bloom as fully, we finally went the week before last to check what the whole deal is. There are conducted day tours and since we do not own a car, we thought this the best option.<br />
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With 20 other tourists of American and Chinese origin and a very knowledgeable guide, we spent the day viewing lavender fields in Plateau of Valensole, understanding the history of the area, visiting Moustiers-Ste-Marie, a medieval village where ceramic ware is made and sold. The surprise was the Sainte Croix Lake, created by a dam. You are not allowed to use motorized boats, thus keep the water pollution-free. It's the peak of summer and the lake was full of people swimming, boating, jumping off the cliffs. It was lovely and made me yearn for such places back home where the community comes together to enjoy and appreciate nature.<br />
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This region, Provence, is marvelous!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lavender and olive trees</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The darker in lavendine, the lighter lavender. Both have different purposes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wheat and lavender side-by-side</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moustiers-Ste-Marie perched up those cliffs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Church in M-S-M</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnz4bB1ihBJO8xaPNONZ40rAyhoiF1gyofNi0J7v_3MpLIsyiSDU7AU26R5pstSTd-KtHvCK4LO4WoP6R1xWsOZRgVEdFhoSuDqUBYhVITLi8IXFOROuQfck69hEcTyrj19nCMGIGadcK/s1600/DSCN9319.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnz4bB1ihBJO8xaPNONZ40rAyhoiF1gyofNi0J7v_3MpLIsyiSDU7AU26R5pstSTd-KtHvCK4LO4WoP6R1xWsOZRgVEdFhoSuDqUBYhVITLi8IXFOROuQfck69hEcTyrj19nCMGIGadcK/s320/DSCN9319.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alps ka THANDA pani</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuD57Lwk0CbDLxC1TkVQ6DPFC5vT85yP7qJVtCFVs-EkZPcds35-P-a17zViTqyG8Uasv4ibboE18_O8V9V_KyWjmIhviOJqBdtyuRkgIYiVS8c0W4PmOjJZjDbv0XInzLtjFwI3Kiwg9y/s1600/DSCN9372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuD57Lwk0CbDLxC1TkVQ6DPFC5vT85yP7qJVtCFVs-EkZPcds35-P-a17zViTqyG8Uasv4ibboE18_O8V9V_KyWjmIhviOJqBdtyuRkgIYiVS8c0W4PmOjJZjDbv0XInzLtjFwI3Kiwg9y/s320/DSCN9372.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake St. Croix</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMljcl_chjdU3V9FKGpgDz1gTikEvMPg9Iwdl-jjkeucese54zGuFGPOT32r6wGItRwrKj0Hkr4cUKBtbATfQlzupiex2PivIb303SLmwpCzZGTNdY2TLtbYRG3B2G78F-bQ9mbCikj9AE/s1600/DSCN9388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMljcl_chjdU3V9FKGpgDz1gTikEvMPg9Iwdl-jjkeucese54zGuFGPOT32r6wGItRwrKj0Hkr4cUKBtbATfQlzupiex2PivIb303SLmwpCzZGTNdY2TLtbYRG3B2G78F-bQ9mbCikj9AE/s320/DSCN9388.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The combination of the sun and the minerals the water brings out this colour</td></tr>
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<b>3rd July, 2013</b></div>
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The finish line of the 5th Stage of Tour de France was in Marseille and I was able to go see them. The main event was preluded by a lot of fanfare and companies giving out freebies. It was a fantastic moment to see them as they swooshed past you.</div>
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I was able to take a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_P7oHdEUkg" target="_blank">video</a> and this picture just as they took that turn!</div>
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As you can see, it's been a good summer so far!</div>
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-41276841575773800882013-07-01T17:06:00.000+02:002013-07-01T17:08:17.114+02:00Coincidences...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
...I love!<br />
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1. On Sunday, I was checking out books on <a href="http://www.flipkart.com/" target="_blank">flipkart</a>. I searched for 'The Count of Monte Cristo'. They had a sample from the e-book version. I clicked on the first chapter which turned out to 'The Arrival at Marseilles', which is where I am at currently!<br />
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2. Yesterday afternoon, I watched 'The Shawshank Redemption'. In the night, they made a reference to the movie in the sit-com 'The New Girl', S02E01, which I have seen already once before. But last night I picked it randomly to pass some time before sleep!<br />
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3. Watching 'The English Patient' this afternoon led me to read about Ralph Fiennes on Wikipedia, which told me he has also acted in the movie 'The Constant Gardener', the book version of which I am reading currently!<br />
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:)</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-19873477245195790162013-06-25T23:02:00.000+02:002013-11-11T09:29:10.014+01:00Blue Coast Logistics<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The Blue Coast train is a hop-on-hop-off day line between Marseille and Miramas in the north. By car, it's probably less that an hour. But the train rides along the coast till La Courenne and then go inland, leaving the beautiful blue coast behind. You can buy the pass for 15 euros per person and get on and off the train as many times as you want in that one day. (Both photos taken from <a href="http://www.marseille-provence.info/travel-rail-train-air-sea-road-motorways/rail-railways-train-sncf/2-the-beautiful-blue-coast-train-line.html">here</a>.)<br />
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The train starts from St. Charles de Gaulle in Marseille at regular intervals during the entire week. The schedule changes only slightly during the weekend. Make sure to check before you make a trip. We had planned this day trip for the Sunday before last. But we missed the one at 10.30 and the next one was only at 2.30 PM.<br />
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This time we were better prepared and took the 8:30 AM train out of Marseille. Initially, we'd thought we'd get off at Martigues. But a closer look at the timetable told us that the train left Miramas only 20 minutes after it reached there. So we decided to go all the way up and see what's good and what's not along the way and then decide what to do.<br />
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On the way back, we got off at Martigues, the 'Venice of Provence.' (We'll let others decide whether or not this actually stands true!) When we reached Martigues, we thought that was it. However, the main hub is quite far from the <em>gare</em>. The timetable on the bus stop right outside told us that the next bus to anywhere was a hour later. So we walked in the direction that seemed right, walked into a shop, asked for directions and took the long walk back along a highway into town. Fortunately, we met someone who was more specific with how 'far' town was and this time we were able to get a bus.<br />
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We knew that the next train out of Martigues was at 2.30 PM. So after spending some time walking around town, we took the bus back, got on the train and headed to Carry-le-Rouet to spend the rest of the day at the beach.<br />
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Some things I realized:<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Make sure to carry food and water with you. It's less expensive and you can munch as and when you want to.</li>
<li>Very rarely will you find yourself without a timetable to refer to, especially when you are relying on public transport in Europe. Make sure to refer to timetables and ask for assistance. If you know how to read one, you are pretty much ready to go!</li>
<li>Be ready to adjust along the way, alter your plan and walk a lot. It can be fun and you'll learn a lot more.</li>
</ul>
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Happy travels!<br />
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(Make sure to check out our personal photos of Martigues <a href="http://theyellowall.blogspot.fr/2013/06/the-blue-coast.html">here</a>!)</div>
Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8814582037655495218.post-65933853316659912292013-06-25T22:25:00.002+02:002013-06-30T21:47:53.263+02:00The Blue Coast<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The Blue Coast (Côte Bleue) is a hop-on-hop-off day train that goes north from Marseille along a coast. Mid way into its journey, it turns inland, leaving the literally blue coast behind.<br />
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We took this train this Sunday. We had actually planned to take it the week before last. But we missed the one that left at 10.30 AM. The following one was only was 2.30 in the afternoon, taking which didn't make sense.<br />
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We decided to get off at Martigues, which is called the 'Venice of Provence.' I can't tell you about the accuracy of this title since I haven't been to Venice. I told this to my father and he said: " Well, a film that I recently saw called Venice the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dharavi" target="_blank">Dharavi </a>of Europe. So it really a matter of opinion!" Indeed, I say.<br />
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Some pictures of Martigues...<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">These trains arrive and depart from the stations at regular intervals. From Martigues, we came down to Carry-le-Rouet to spend the rest of the day at the beach. The water is surprisingly cold and lying the sun after a dip makes up for it. We had a lovely day and had some views along the way</span>!</div>
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(Details <a href="http://wallofvoyages.blogspot.fr/2013/06/the-blue-coast.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)</div>
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Gargeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04170064641104955194noreply@blogger.com0