Belgique

The weekend before last, we took an extremely quick trip to Belgium and managed to simply 'touch' Brussels, Bruges and Antwerp.

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.

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.

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!

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!

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!!)

This coming weekend will see us in Paris one last time before we formally announce the French sojourn over! :)

Bruges

Bruges

Bruges 

Bruges

Bruges

Antwerp

Antwerp

Antwerp

Antwerp

Antwerp

Antwerp

It's October already!

I love this month! Not only is it the month of birth of all 3 of us siblings, which really 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.

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.

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 Raï.

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.

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!

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.

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 ‘schiavo’, which is Italian for ‘slave’. ‘Ciao’ is a version of that.

Imagine!

Get a hang!

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!

What is happening to restaurant food?!

‘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^th 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 chole, 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.

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 subjis 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.

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.

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.

‘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 daal-chawal and roti-subji can go wrong when the rice in even slightly undercooked and the roti arrives ten minutes before the subji.

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 chicken tikka or chicken kolhapuri, but whether the chicken was cooked at all!

[PS: Soon after I wrote this, a bunch of people I know started www.ahmedabadfoodcritics.com, as if to make my wishes come true! Public service takes place in many forms. And they serve by guiding you through the millions of upcoming fancy eateries in Ahmedabad! :)]

4th time and counting

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 je ne sais qoui. 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.

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.

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.

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.

This visit afforded us the time to really walk around and take in the sights and sounds of the city. Ever so grateful...

Under the iron lattice, you could hear a dozen languages and a million dreams coming true.

The Parisian Affair

(Part 1 and 2 are here and here.)

(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!)

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.

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.

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.

A walk around town brought us to a cathedral with Gothic architecture and beautiful colored glasses inside. Some pictures of Strasbourg.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Over the next few days, we ate pastries, cooked at the studio, stared at the tower from our windows till after midnight, visited Les Invalides and the Catacombs. 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 Panthéon and we were able to attend the mass service one fine Sunday morning at the Notre Dame Cathedral!

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 bicycle tour 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 walk tours and walked around the city with locals showing us the unknown nooks and corners of the city.

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 Musée d'Orsay.

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. 

Germanized!

(Part 1 of the trip is here. Part 3 is here.)

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.

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 Bavarian 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.

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.)

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 aha moment!

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.

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!

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.

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 petit-train 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.

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.

Swiss Pass-ed!

Paris 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 petit train to go see the Old Town before heading back to the gare, collect our luggage from the locker and catch the train to our final destination for the day.

We bought 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.

We had 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.

Jungfraujoch 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 chalets, as we gained height in the cog-wheel train.

A typical tourist attraction 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!

At the fun arena 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.

The next day, 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. .

Lucerne turned 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!

Mt. Titlis beckoned 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!

We wanted 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 Lion Monument.

The next day, 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 Rhine Falls. 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!

About an hour 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!

We had 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.

(Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here.)