Tuesday 11 October 2011

Èze - the French Connection

From the previous post: "It was now evening, time to bid adieu to this lovely little country-state and get back to the charms of France."

It was yet another bright, crisp and beautiful morning in the little town of Antibes in southern France.

Today, I was headed towards a place called Èze-sur-Mer. Only by the end of the day, would I have realised how much this particular day had mattered and the profound effect the place would have made on me.

Eze

This lovely place had seen Romans and Moors in its past and has also had Egyptian influence at some point. It has been held by Turkish and finally French troops. It's also known as 'eagle's nest' due to its location at 1401 feet above sea level, overlooking a high cliff and a gorgeous view of the Mediterranean sea. The most famous person, we could possibly relate to is Walt Disney, who spent a significant amount of time in Èze.

Took the train from Antibes to Eze.

Èze-sur-Mer railway station
It was a quaint little station, with a towering backdrop. The first part of the visit to Eze was to go to the beach. Unlike beaches that I have been on, there was no sand here at all. Only rounded pebbles. In fact, till date as a memory of this trip, I have a rounded marble like stone that I picked up from the beach at Èze.

Èze pebbled beach
The water was crystal clear, calm, cool and felt great swimming in. Interestingly, a section of the beach was a nude beach, the first one that I had ever been on. I could only imagine the 'puritanical hullaboo' that such a place would have caused in a more conservative society, but here it was all normal and the people around were nonchalantly engaged in letting the wind caress and the sun tan their bodies. Whatalife!


Mid-way up the mountain at Èze
Once wind dried the water on the body, it was time to get back together with the rest of our little group and start the climb up the mountain. We were headed towards a medieval village, situated right on top. The climb was steep. Just 1400 feet high, not much of a distance isn't it? Trying climbing up a steep mountain. You curse yourself for not having been fitter! The muscles groan at each step, as the lungs do the best to take in as much oxygen as possible and deliver it to the blood being pumped inside at full speed by your racing heart. Yet, finally I also realised that it is really the case of mind over matter. It is sheer will power that makes a difference in the way in which you overcome any challenge - physical or not. The body is, but a tool.

Picnic lunch at Èze
It was a beautiful day, a gentle sea breeze blowing and the temperature was in the early 20s despite the sun being out in full strength. Mid-way, we stopped to have our picnic lunch, having packed it earlier in Antibes. The tossed vegetable salad accompanied with French baguette and cheese was simple yet delicious, nutritious and mildly filling. Rested for a bit, enjoying the scenery and the view of the Mediterranean, while taking some pictures. Then set off on the climb again.

If I had felt the pressure of climbing till now, it was nothing! Not when compared to what I had to exert my body to do, for the next hour or so of the climb. Mentally, I admit that I ranted and raved at every little vice of mine which may have had a role in the pressure I felt. And I thought I was doing a neat job for a regular guy, until wham! A sight that hit me, rather deeply, leaving me quite red faced, not wholly from physical exertion. A man wearing cycling tracks and a t-shirt, passed by me, quite agilely jogging up the path. I was to see him return as well a bit later. It left deep question marks in my head. About me. Sadly, I was not in a position to laugh at that moment, given my mouth was engaged in trying to remain as widely open as possible, to get more air inside.

It was exhilarating too. The views were indeed, truly gorgeous. Finally, the moment of pleasure. I had made it to the top, with the panting and chanting and all that. Paused a bit to take in the view.

Èze village layout
The medieval village on top, was no longer really inhabited by locals any more. Rather, it had been converted into an artists' village. The beauty and charm of this village attracts a rather large number of tourists. The motto of the village was the phrase: "Isis Moriendo Renascor" meaning In death I am reborn. With the emblem being a Phoenix there was no surprise as to why the motto. Of course, historical reasons do exist.

I walked around the place, observing some really unique and interesting work of art. Wood, metal and many other materials had been used in creating figurines, sculptures, paintings and more. Finally made it to a cute restaurant set up, quite near the top.

View from the top of Èze 
Sitting by a window, gazing out at the distant sea, seeing red clay tiled roof tops and a brass bell with an etching of Mary on it, I distinctly felt as if I had been transported back a few centuries and then some.

Notre Dame de l’Assomption built in 1764
Further exploring, led to this light ochre coloured church. Quite ancient. A visible landmark from quite afar. Cobbled pathways. Iron, mortar and stone walls. I could only imagine how much effort would have been made a few centuries back to create this place on top of such a location.

I stopped to get some caffeine into my system, which by now was showing signs of normalcy. With the endorphins sloshing around in the head and adrenalin still pumping around, I was quite calmly vociferous that we would walk down the same path we came, rather than take the bus back to the railway station. It actually takes more effort to walk down rather than climb up.

Made it. Got on the nice double decked train. Back to home base. In time to freshen up, prepare dinner. After getting off at the Antibes railway station, we went to the local Carrefour supermarket. Having lived in Muscat and visited Dubai, I was no stranger to this French chain of hypermarkets. What I had not realised was the sheer size and scale. Even in a small place like Antibes, it was humongous to say the least. The ones in the Middle East were relatively piddling, compared to the ones in the home country. We were going in for seafood dinner today. Also picked up different types of cheese for dessert.

A large selection of cheese
While, I had known about cheese, given the rather high fat content and my lack of knowledge about types of cheese, I had not engaged in consuming much, earlier. I learnt here in France, thanks to Bernard how many different types of cheese existed, how to consume and relish it, always accompanied with a glass of red wine or rosé. Also realised that it had something to do with the climate as well as amount of normal physical activity, for I did not even once see a French person who had a few extra pounds on. 

Yet another beautiful day had ended. And some profound realisations had dawn on me. Life is full of simple pleasures. We lose sight of it, in our daily grind. Not worth it. It is truly in us, what we make of ourselves.

Still more interesting places to discover. Continued in the next post.


Saturday 8 October 2011

Monte Carlo - the French Connection

From the previous post: "As I slept off, the next day's agenda brought a smile to my face. I could literally hear the high pitched whines of very powerful engines."

Each day of this trip was so exciting, that even just waking up was enough to get the adrenalin pumping. Today, first we set off for a drive through some of the beautiful coastal areas around this place. With 25 kilometres of coastline surround Juan les Pins and Antibes, this was but a mere glimpse into what attracted humans from the 5th century BC to this resort town.

Sea, Sun, Sand

I have to say that it was a pleasure to be in a place where the sea was calm, cool and simply inviting everyone to enjoy its shimmering wavelets.

Calm waters of Antibes
Also it was a weekend, so more people were out and about, swimming, fishing, yachting or simply soaking in the sun on the clean beaches, though quite a bit of the coast is rocky. After enjoying the fresh cool breeze here, we headed towards Château Grimaldi. It is also home to the Picasso museum.

Château Grimaldi
It was definitely ancient, but very well preserved and in pristine condition. The place was quite laid back and no one seemed to be in a hurry to go anywhere. Which was such a pleasure and contrast to the fast paced lifestyle of a city.

Sea wall at Antibes
I found the history of this place quite enchanting. From the time that the Greek colony was set up 1500 years back, to its fall and rise again. In between, this very sea wall had been part of the town fortifications in which the town people lived a life of safety during the troubled ages.

As I walked through cobbled alleyways and squares it reminded me of an Victorian era gone past. While the mind plugged in a patina of glamour, reality may have been quite different in that period. However, some of the essences continued to linger.

Lively Saturday market, Antibes
As I had mentioned in the previous post about the Friday market, which was temporal in nature, so was the Saturday market that I reached now. It was busy with shoppers looking to buy products ranging from flowers to vegetables to herbs and pastes. There was some fabulous olive pastes that were heavenly to taste. I did pick up some Herbes de Provence - which is a mix of savory, fennel, basil, thyme and rosemary among others. It is quite nice to flavour fish and can be used in vegetable stews as well.

From here we headed to a small cafe. The coffee was delicious. As was the conversation. We then walked towards Gare D'Antibes - the railway station. It was a lovely walk on paved thoroughfares enjoying the sight of small restaurants on one side and the sea on the other.

Cute railway station
While I had heard about the European railways, I had never experienced sitting in any. So this was my first opportunity to see and be in one of these. The railway station was small, cute and efficient.


The train was nothing like what I had seen or been in before. Twin decked, it was an interesting ride. After a point, the novelty of being in the train wore off. But the views kept me extremely interested.


I snapped this picture, just after we passed a small town called Villefranche-sur-Mer. All along the ride, I could see beautiful undulating landscapes, azure waters and people engaged in paying homage to the sun.

Monaco / Monte-Carlo

Again, through sheer serendipity, I had blithely come across the time when the magnificent Grand Prix was to be held at Monaco / Monte-Carlo. This was where I was headed now. Monaco is the smallest (by size) and most densely populated country in the world! And it was as simple as buying a train ticket to get into the place, without any border control hassles.

It was much later though, that I would officially get to meet Albert II, the Prince of Monaco, when he visited Muscat during the Asian Beach Games in which I had been part of. He is an avid sportsman and quite involved in various sports related activities.

Since 1955, the streets of Monaco have witnessed the Monaco Grand Prix - widely considered as one of the most prestigious automobile races in the world. It is also one of the toughest Formula One race tracks, with a tunnel, incredibly narrow and tight turns and elevations.

I got there too late to actually get to the grandstand, as the race had already started. However, I did manage to get quite close to the barricades beyond which these powerful machines were being driven by men with amazing talent.


I soon realised, why many people were walking around with ear mufflers. I happened to be standing right next to the race course barricade when some of the Formula One monsters drove by. All I could hear for the next five minutes were the ringing tones in my ears, as these whining machines can produce sounds with sufficiently high pitch and decibels to permanently damage your eardrum should you choose to keep listening continuously. But the sheer power. Wow. As these machines went roaring by, it was enough to get almost all the muscles in my body quivering. Decadent as the sport may be, now I understood why people get so thrilled about watching it.

Force one truck
As I was walking past the area where the cars were transported to, assembled and then dis-assembled after the race, I noticed the Indian Force One team presence. Now I also understood why Vijay Mallya's UB group jet had been parked at the Nice airport and why his huge yacht was moored at Monaco.



After all this excitement had abated a bit, it was fascinating walking around the place, enjoying the statuesque beauty of the buildings and the place itself. I visited the Prince's Palace of Monaco, which contained many beautiful sculptures, statues and commanding views of the surrounding areas.

François Grimaldi, Monaco Palace
The statue is of François Grimaldi who, as history goes, very cunningly had disguised himself in the attire of a monk, got into the castle, drew his sword and led his army to victoriously capture the castle. As I approached the location, I saw a young child very curiously gazing at this statute, which does look quite real. I found this scene so interesting that I had to grab the chance and shoot a picture.

Interestingly, in all these days in France so far, I had not come across any of my Indian brethren. It felt different. Until now. Right on top of the hill, in that very place comes along one of my fellow countrymen, who was very audibly informing someone back home that he was in Monte Carlo at the Grand Prix. I have always failed to understand, why we have to be so garishly show-offish. And I certainly believe that it is important to respect the culture and customs of the place where we are in. Soothing calmness is something I have come across in various places in and out of India, never in the cities though. And I have grown to love it.

It was now evening, time to bid adieu to this lovely little country-state and get back to the charms of France.

Continued in the next post.  

Wednesday 5 October 2011

Antibes - the French Connection

From the previous post: "...As I was sinking into sleep, I could feel my heart still beating out the message, "yes, yes, beautiful French Riviera, yes, yes"..."

Antibes

I woke up to a glorious morning with mild sunlight and a nip in the air. It felt good to be in Antibes in summer. I actually had to take a moment to re-assure myself that this was not a dream and I was actually there.

Bernard my friend and the perfect host, had prepared breakfast already. An interesting thing at his house was that all the meals we had there, was while sitting on the patio, overlooking the lawn. In the morning it was beautiful, in the night exotic.


I found it so much more interesting. In India or the Gulf countries, chances are most meals are consumed inside the house. The weather usually does not permit otherwise. However, the nice, clean, crispy weather here makes it an absolute pleasure to be out rather that in the house.

Having had our breakfast, I set off with Bernard, to wander through the Antibes city centre. It was a small city located just perfectly in the middle of the French Riviera.


We first headed to the 'Mediatheque' as Bernard wanted to check his mail. I also took the opportunity to do the same. Additionally, I had a walk around inside the place. It was wonderful to see the attention to detail and impressive efforts put in creating a venue where both information and knowledge were available for all people. I think, it is only education and knowledge especially through reading, that can broaden our views on life and its challenges. Here, I could see from kids to adults of all ages using the facilities to know more.


It was also good to see the care, civic sense and efforts that had gone into beautifying the place, case in point was the random shooting fountain set up exactly in the centre of the town. We had walked here from the Mediatheque, as we were expecting to joined by another 'guest' who also has turned out to be a good friend. Jia, a girl from Beijing, who happens to be studying in Paris and had decided to couch surf with Bernard for that week. Just like me, this was her first visit to the south of France. After having received Jia, all of us went walking around town.


First place we reached was a Friday market. A temporary set up, it was a place and day on which people brought in art collectibles for sale. I saw some exquisite copper and brass artefacts as well as some pencil/charcoal sketches. I could see that people had the freedom to express their creativity and put it up for sale. Some were full time artists, whereas most of the sellers were hobbyists.


As we progressed walking through the small town, we came to a street which consisted of shops like the Charcuterie Lyonnaise and some local bakeries. Stepped into one, to pick up some French style baguette for lunch. The ladies running the bakery were very gracious with the bug eyed bloke busy photographing and eyeing all the goodies on display on the shelves. So nice were they, that I was even given gratis a bunch of rolls.

Having built up a good appetite, eventually we headed back home, where our gracious host prepared a lovely salad which we had with the fresh bread we had picked up at the patisserie.


Having lunch, accompanied with a lovely glass of Rose (pronounced ro-say) by the patio at noon was so out of the ordinary for me, that I was practically in raptures enjoying the moment. Of course to add further merriment, was some lively chatter.

When I had booked the tickets initially to come here, I had inadvertently and luckily picked a time when the famous Cannes Film Festival would be held. Imagine, for an avid cine watcher and advertising background chap like me, how wonderful it felt, when post-lunch we headed to, of course...(drum roll reaching a crescendo)...

Cannes


It sure was filled with crowds, not all of whom had arrived there to partake in the Film Festival. There were a lot of people, where were enjoying the beach scene as well.


Walking on the path that went past the venerable Carlton Hotel, it was absolutely clear that it was indeed film festival time. Watching the Academy award winning creator of movies like Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, Inglorious Basterds, etc. - Quentin Tarantino walking just a few feet away felt incredible. Following him were hordes of paparazzi, whom he was adroitly evading.

However, a few metres further I saw a sight that left me stumped, to say the least.


A eye searingly bright yellow mustang, which had clear undertones of Indian influence with the words 'Jodhpur' and what looked like 'Mahabharat' written in Hindi on it. Also printed on was the signature of Buzz Aldrin (the second human being to step foot on the moon), which I couldn't for the life of me, connect to whatever else was on the car.

A bit further, on the beach side I could see an enterprising soul had painstakingly created a sand sculpture and had even etched Merci or thank you for some Euros, hoped to be tossed his way.


I have to say, the sculpture was closely resembling the visual of the squirrel who wouldn't let go of the lone nut from the film Ice Age.

After viewing the huge crowds who had gathered by now to catch a glimpse of the 'stars' attending the festival, it began to feel a bit pressured to walk around in that area. So we decided to turn into a parallel lane and started walking. When it hit me. The one thing that so many of us find so difficult to resist. I think, I not only lost a few kilos in drooling, I probably developed nerves of steel to have been able to walk away from it.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Chocolaterie.


The beauty of this particular shop was the creative ways in which chocolate had been moulded into masks, baskets, etc. All of course, fully consumable. And if by now, you still haven't felt even a bit of chocolate craving, here is something that I had the toughest time resisting.


French macaroons and dark chocolate with hazel nuts stacked so lovingly and waiting to be deliciously consumed! Indeed, after all this excitement I was trying hard to notice the other sights, sounds and smells on the street. Had to work hard. Real hard.

Finally started noticing that there were flowers all over the place. All streets were full of flowers in so many colours. In pots, hanging from posts, sprouting from sills, you name it. Also distinctly noticeable was the fact that people in France love their four legged friends. Dogs of all sizes, shapes, colours, breeds were visible on leashes, in handbags, in car windows. Watching a dog enjoying the breeze as it was being driven in an open top Mercedes Benz CLK convertible, I thought, 'this dog does have an enchanted life'.

By now, it was evening and we headed back home in Bernard's cute little car. Jia and I helped our host in whatever way possible to cook and set up dinner. The result was simply, magnifique!


I realised that cheese and wine were essential components of any dinner in France. I have to admit some of my tastes, especially red wine, are quite influenced by this wonderful French experience.

Having finished the dinner, topped off with a simple but tasty dessert of crushed apple with cinnamon sprinkled on top, we spent some time chatting before retiring for the night. As I slept off, the next day's agenda brought a smile to my face. I could literally hear the high pitched whines of very powerful engines.

Continued in the next post.

Monday 3 October 2011

The French Connection

As mentioned in my post on Passion and being a passionate traveller among other things, I thought it would be a good idea to publish, some of my travel related adventures. I started with Hong Kong in Asia, moved on to Tanzania in Africa and am now shifting to Europe.

The idea

To me, travelling is an essential part of the journey through life. In my opinion, securing an opportunity to travel, is akin to securing an income every month. Both are required to be able to live a life, fully. Usually.

Some time back, I was introduced by a friend, to a social network called Couch Surfing. The philosophy of this network is quite simple. It is a network that lets you develop an understanding of peoples, places and cultures. In short it promotes inter cultural connections.

When I was based in Muscat, I became an active member of this network. Whether it was meeting up with like minded people who were already residing in the city or hosting people who were aiming to develop a better and more local, rather than 'touristy', understanding of Muscat through me.

My first 'guest', who has eventually turned out to be a good friend goes by the name of Bernard. He is French and an intrepid traveller who has been to many parts of the world. A complete gentleman, he was my first experience of hosting a person through the network.

We had a great time in Muscat, during the week he stayed over. We connected easily and became friends. I was able to learn so much from his various travel experiences as well as the good values by which, he lived life. By the time he was about to leave, we had discussed and agreed that I would visit him in France. In a place called Antibes.

This series is a recollection of the wonderful time I had, thanks to his generosity, in the beautiful French Riviera.

Pre-trip preparations

The old adage is that a journey begins with the first step. Today, it is more likely to be the first click. So with the trusty mouse and laptop in hand, I searched for the best airfares to Europe. Managed to get a good deal with Emirates Airlines. Tickets booked and confirmed.

Now comes the bit about the visa. As I mentioned in my African Safari post, as an India passport holder, one of the key activities in getting ready for international travel, involves getting the visit visa sorted out. Went off to the French consulate. Found out that I was eligible to get a Schengen visa. However, I would pretty much need to provide every possible document demonstrating my ability to reside in France for a week and more importantly, a strong committed reason to actually return back to Muscat.

Many a times, I have thought about this. I understand that the Indian government has not entered into reciprocal arrangements for providing visa on arrival norms. However, the main reason why the Indian passport holder has to prove s/he will return back to place of residence is simply because there have been way too many Indians who have managed to get into a country and vanished without a trace, to eventually surface as a illegal worker and after a point of time becomes the citizen of that country or a neighbouring territory. All in the pursuit of a better life. Understandable, given the systems and great governance of our beautiful country, until a few decades back. It does mean however, that even today for any Indian, who wishes to travel to another country, unless the immigration officials are satisfied that the person is a genuine traveller who intends to only visit and return, getting a visa becomes rather tough.

Thankfully, I received full support from my work colleagues and the management at the advertising agency where I was employed. Though I had all the relevant documents, I still went with some jitters to the embassy. Fortunately, I was approved to travel. Yes! What a sigh of relief.

The journey

Driving to the airport is such a joyful feeling. The joyfully trembling anticipation of getting into an aircraft, flying way above the clouds, the aroma of food and beverages being served, the superb in flight entertainment system called ICE on Emirates Airlines and above all the good service, especially as I was not on any of the UAE-India sectors. Flight was Muscat - Dubai - Nice. Flight from Muscat was good, no hassles other than the standard Dubai processes - remove the shoes, remove the belt, etc. Thankfully there was no iris scan this time.

As the flight from Dubai to Nice was taxing for take off, I could not help but notice how similar the Dubai airport looked to a caterpillar.

Dubai airport
While the infrastructure looked and is really modern in Dubai, the landscape is dry and dusty as behoves a dry desert environment.

Dubai viewed from above
While the Nice airport was not really comparable to Dubai, the difference between the Gulf and European landscape could not be more evident. Sun kissed beaches and a glimmering sea right next to the landing strip.

Nice, France - first view from above
Bernard was kind enough to come pick me up from the airport and drive us back to his beautiful house (more on it later). After putting my baggage in the room, we headed to a place called Juan les Pins which I would get to know well, over the next few days. Perfect, cool, crisp evening and a beautiful start to the trip.


It really was the French Riviera. I was finally here. What a moment. The beach was beautiful. The people were care free and relaxed. It was summer time, so long days and shorter nights. Going from a place in the middle east, where culturally it is not acceptable to show much of your body to a place like the south of France, where culturally it was acceptable to being very lightly dressed, if at all, was like a culture and perspective shake in some ways. Realisation dawns - the world is so different, just a few hours apart.


To me, nothing could be more starkly reminiscent than this beautiful sculpture of a nude lady waiting, by the board walk at Juan les Pins.

Sea Gull, Juan les Pins, France
The only creature gawking at me, while I was in my photographer mode. Nobody else, could care less about being photographed. Everybody appeared relaxed, having a good time, generally happy and carefree.


I was enlightened about a very interesting law about the beach area by Bernard. While private owners could restrict their space to only those people they wanted, everyone had access to the sea shore and a through fare area had to be provided. This meant that we could actually walk all along the sea shore for kilometres, while passing by restaurants and beach beds.


This beautiful mansion and beach resort, captured my eyes as I walked past. Finally, we called it a day. Went back to the house, had some great wine and an excellent dinner prepared by Bernard. We talked for a while, catching up on the time since we last met in Muscat. Then it was time to sleep. As I was sinking into sleep, I could feel my heart still beating out the message, "yes, yes, beautiful French Riviera, yes, yes".

Still more amazing experiences to come. In the next post. 

Sunday 2 October 2011

The Father is dead

Today is the day, the Father of India was born. Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. He lived for a large part of his life and also died, for the very notion of a free, liberal, secular and democratic India.



Who cares?

I do. I am sure, there many people out there, who do. And I am equally sure that there are many from 5 generations of Indians, who have very little resonance with the man, his ideals, goals and dreams.

Thinking about this man who literally moved mountains, this man who singularly managed to rouse enough Indians to get the once mighty empire to leave this country - I can not help but feel a sense of awe equally coupled with sadness.

Fast, fast, fast

Gandhi, the man was not perfect. Who is? But his ideas were genuine and worthy. His single biggest weapon of fasting and the resultant sparking of mass movement for the birthright of every human - freedom, showed the world what true sacrifice can bring. Awe.

Yet today, 'fasting' has become more used as a political tool to bend the will or showcase the might or simply rebel. With resultant media attention. There is nothing sacrificial about today's applied Gandhian philosophy. Sadness.

Alcohol and drugs

Gandhi's principles made his idea of an alcohol and drug independent nation of people, who would rise from temptation and self induced stupor to actually work towards creating and sustaining the very essences of democracy - a reality. Awe.

Yet today, our governments rake in the highest amount of revenues from the 'official' sale of both alcohol and drugs. The state in which Gandhi was born, continues to maintain an alcohol free image, but reality is that it is rather easily available at every nook and corner. As covered in The NRI blog post, some people from Kerala actually like the BBC covering a story on this place being the highest liquor consuming state in India. Sadness.

Gender equality

Gandhi wanted India to be a nation, where both men and women have equal rights to freedom, education and the opportunity to improve their lives. In his own words, "Women will enjoy the same rights as men." He ensured that in the movements to democracy, not once were women kept away or behind. Awe.

Today, this very nation has people who are ashamed and worried about having a girl child. Our clearly declining gender ratio or number of women abused every day are horrifying stories revealed across our multiple media sources, calmly watched or read and - nothing. We have become truly immune in our souls. Sadness.

The viral factor

Sixty to seventy odd years back, a man wearing a simple cotton cloth, brought the nation to stand as one with him in the quest for a life not enslaved. He did not have massive marketing budgets. He did not have qualified chartered accountants and finance managers who secured his funding. He had charisma. Awe.

Today, it is every piece of paper with this very man's image on a that is valued way more than anything else he stood for. As a dialogue in a film a few years back, made it so aptly clear - people love Gandhi and adore his value, for every Indian currency note has his face on it. Sadness.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow

Yesterday, the mountain of a man idealised and created a nation.

Today, the nation 'respects' him by watching movies on him, singing his songs, quoting his quotes, changing statuses and profile pictures on Facebook - for a day!

Tomorrow, we march on in the singular "pursuit of happyness", in our own way. I agree, looking back and running forward will only result in a fall. But stopping ever so once in a while, looking back and then turning forward can help us realise whether we are actually running in the right direction. Isn't it?

Happiness

This train of thought led to me to another monumental figure.

JRD Tata - another great man with gigantic ideas, responsible for creating one of India's most respected organisations and making a real difference in the lives of many a people globally. He had once said, he does not want India to be an economic super power. Rather, he wanted India to be a happy nation.

We are happy, or are we? We have some of the richest people in the world from India. We have a 400 million strong and growing middle class. We also have 200 million people too poor and unable to eat one meal a day. We have race riots, but India has not yet splintered into multiple countries. We have true freedom, even if we take it for granted. We have systems, even if they are antiquated and manipulated by the government. We really are in the pursuit of happiness, but we get more thrilled to be known as an economic super power with enough clout to make the world listen to us. We are happy to have a powerful car to drive, but we are happier at having beaten the red light by milliseconds.

Having thought about all this, I only felt a sense of bewilderment. Have we become dysfunctional? Can we be more and importantly better than what we have become? Yes. Will we actually become more and better? Who knows.

On a different offbeat note, an important realisation was seared into my psyche a few days back.


Beware! Truly "unwatchable"


I had heard of blood diamonds, but I had not heard of blood minerals. Until I watched the film, at http://www.unwatchable.cc/thefilm/. I do recommend that each and every one of you, do watch it. But beware, it is truly unwatchable

Friday 30 September 2011

Zanzibar - the African Safari [end]

From the previous post: "...Next day morning, Abombe would be dropping us off at the airport from where we would be flying to laid back Zanzibar. The final days of this magnificent journey were upon us..."

Be it an exhilarating journey or a deep thought train, reaching the end is always a bitter-sweet moment. So was this.

The day began as usual with the breakfast, pack up, double-check everything is in the right place, get into the land cruiser and leave for the airport. Having said bye to Joachim, our cook, last night when we arrived at the Oasis resort, now it was time to say bye to Abombe, our kind, faithful, knowledgeable and helpful driver/guide. Having gotten into the small 'Kilimanjaro' airport, we boarded the now familiar ATR aircraft from Precision Air.

Last view of Arusha
We took off on time and were soon winging our way across the sea to the island of Zanzibar and its charms.

Zanzibar

In Muscat, we had met many an Omani whose family had been Zanzibari at some point of time. There is a huge historical narrative that could be written up about it (maybe I will, in another post). I think it would suffice to say that the linkage between Oman and Zanzibar is quite strong. So my appetite for the place, its culture and cuisine had already been whetted even before ever stepping on the land.

As we finally winged over the sea and began the descent it felt great to see fishing trawlers and aquamarine blue water lashing upon the white sand beaches. Landed and collected our baggage from the handlers directly, as there was no luggage conveyor belt. Interestingly, here we had to get our passports out and again stamped with a 'visa' on arrival but there was no additional fees to pay.

We got out of the airport and waited near the exit for a bit. Our driver had not turned up. It seems there had been some mix up about the time we were to arrive and therefore the hotel had not sent the chap. After getting the communication sorted out, the guy was with us in 15 minutes. Not a very big place, really.

Reached the hotel. It was an old building, converted into a hotel. No lifts. We had to climb four levels of stairs and then some, to reach our room. It was a large airy place, with lots of sitting area on the roof as well as in the courtyard. First view was lovely. During low tide, sand bars form near the beach. Some enterprising people would set up temporary luncheon tables and food, which could be had for a fee. Sadly, we didn't have the time to be able to do this, but it certainly looked good from where I was viewing it.

Lunch in the middle of the sea!
Having freshened up, we headed out for a walk to the nearby beach, some of Tanzania's refreshing chilled brews and a wholesome lunch.


Hunger sated, it was time for some walking around and exploring the area, which is called 'stone town'. It is the older part of Zanzibar. It felt good walking around a place, that looked so ancient yet well maintained. It was by the seafront and known as Forodhani in the local parlance. The Arab influence was evident in the architecture and people.

Foradani, Stone Town, Zanzibar
There were quite a few museums around as well, which attested the historical importance Zanzibar had, in the past when slavery used to be a roaringly profitable business and African natives were captured and transported from the very same loading docks to the then new age countries of Europe and America.

The styling of the buildings, columns, stair cases and stained glasses were all very interesting to observe and capture.


One of my companions, was by this time feeling quite the 'non-city' person, having been on the safari for a week. So she went off to get some 'beautification' done and become 'presentable'. I guess, it was important for her.

Meantime, two of us decided to meander around the place. We came to a nice park, where we sat down and were conversing about various subjects. When, a man with rastafarian hair locks and dress, came and sat down right next to us. Asking us, where we were from and as I suspected, it turned out to be a sales pitch for some service. I informed him, we were really not interested. He kept insisting. Had to make it distinctly clear, we were not buying whatever he was selling. He actually had the nerve to get offended. Wow. Talk about aggressive sales.

Eventually, we caught up with the now 'glamorous' version of our companion and headed out to for some local cuisine. Had to walk around a bit, before we finally managed to locate a restaurant that had only local Zanzibari food. It was an interesting fare, though bit bland. We tried about 6 different types of food and ended it with a local dessert, as well. I discovered that what is termed 'cassava' in Zanzibar is 'tapioca' in Kerala. Muhogo wa nazi literally translates to 'coconut cassava'. Ugali - maize flour cooked to a dough like consistency eaten usually with beef and sauces or vegetable stew, was another local dish, favoured at Forodhani. Vitumbua - rice cup cakes, reminded me of the Khushboo idly found in Chennai, India. Hot and soft Crepes were also interesting.

Post dinner, we headed out to the 'night market' that would be set up near the park we had been in the afternoon. So through twisting alleyways we made our way to the market. The walk distinctly reminded me of the paths I had walked through, on my way to school, in the older part of Ahmedabad in my childhood. Interestingly, there were quite a few Indian shop keepers there as well. And the place was redolent of the six spices that Zanzibar was now renowned for.

By the time we made it to the night market, one of the visiting trio had become too exhausted to continue and retired for the night. The remaining two, then explored the various food fare on display, for the night market was exactly that. A temporarily set up area where hawkers would come on their push carts, display various kinds of sea food, and it would be cooked right in front of you. Some of the food reminded me of a 'tapas' style of cooking.

After this, we drifted toward the old fort in the same Foradani area, where we witnessed a uniquely local style of musical performance known as Taarab. Then it was back to hotel, climb up four floors and some deep slumber.

Inner courtyard
Next day morning, waking up the salty sea breeze twinged with the smell of fish, it felt quite different to the past week. It was pack up time. Went down for a standard continental breakfast, deposited the bags and took off again for a walk around the place, before we headed to the pier where we were taking the ferry to Dar-es-Salaam, the capital of Tanzania and our exit point back to Muscat.

When we reached the ferry site, it was crowded with passengers. After a week of the open vistasendless plains and gorges, it felt a bit stifling. Finally, made it on board the ferry.


As we started the two and a half hour journey to Dar-es-Salaam, while viewing Forodhani from the sea, there was a twinge of regret at not having spend enough time here and a hope to return back to this place and discover more of what it had to offer. I felt this way once before, on the Andaman and Nicobar islands in India (a post will be up soon).


After docking at Dar-es-Salaam, we found our way out, with the unmistakable sounds of a city ringing in the ears. Apart from slight nausea that one of my companions felt on riding the waves, nothing untoward had happened. We were met by the brother of one of our colleagues, who was kind enough to show us a bit of the city and take us to a restaurant.

As I was walking to the restaurant, I looked up and saw a beautiful set of murals depicting the wildlife of Tanzania, on the under hang of the roof.


I must state, that while the lunch was good, the location and the view were simply outstanding. It was an outdoor restaurant by a cove, and the shimmering water out there was crystal clear and tantalizingly close by, so much so that I wished I had the time to put on swimming trunks and jump in.


After having seen and partaken in such beauty, it was that time when the airport looms in front of you and the realisation stings as it settles in, it was time to head back. While a part me looks forward to being back to the known and familiar, the soul still yearns for experiencing more such beauty that only Earth has.

If reading is living, writing is re-living. I have thoroughly enjoyed bringing to life and immortalising these memories. I hope you too have enjoyed every bit of it. And shared the joy with your friends too. As they say in Swahili, asante sana and kwaheri for now.

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