Sunny’s sad sojourn in Switzerland

Geet and I met Sunny for the first time during our four day tour to Switzerland. He was a puny nine year old, wearing thick glasses with a constant expression of sad aloofness. Initially we took his stoicism as lethargy but that did not make any sense. We were visiting the country of the Alps, where Yash Chopra made Bollywood actresses dance in chiffon sarees in negative temperatures. Everyone in the tour bus was excited except for Sunny who had nothing but contempt in his eyes. Maybe he was too young for this tour.

His father Dr. Bhattacharya sat with him on the last seat of the bus, right behind me and Geet. His mother Mrs. Bhattacharya was busy clicking pictures of every cow, tractor and tree on the road as if the world was going to end soon and she was bestowed with the task of passing the relevant proof of the existence of  Homo Sapiens to the next dominant specie. She took rest from the clicking frenzy only to stuff her family with snacks that she had brought in kilos. The tour operator shared the history of Switzerland with us in the background.

A few hours into the bus and we understood the reason why Sunny was so stolid. The initial two days were Alps-less and we toured Zurich, Geneva, Schaffhausen, Lausanne, Lucerne, Interlaken and Bern. As our tour operator poured all his general knowledge on us, we realized that his words were molted lava dripping in Sunny’s ears.

“Sunny!!! Bhaat is the name of that large fountain in Geneva?” Dr. Bhattacharya asked his son.

“Jet something,” he replied.

“Think properly Shona!” Mrs. Bhattacharya said stuffing her son with cashew filled cookies.

“Jet d’Eau,” he said after a while. His parents clapped. Geet and I looked at each other.

“What does Bern means in Swiss?”

“Bear.”

“How many Cantons are there in Switzerland?”

“Twenty-sigh-six.”

“To commemorate whose memory was the carving of the dying lion created in Lucerne?”

“Swiss Guards who were massacred in 1792 during the French Revolution. I wish I was with them.”

“Bhaat? Anyways, Chapel Bridge is situated across which river?”

“Reuss.”

And this went on and on. We were horrified at what the poor child was going through during this ultra educational tour. I was sure that when all this would be over, Sunny will be permanently scarred and a slight inclination by his future wife to visit this romantic destination will be answered by shrieks of madness.

I remember talking to Dr. Bhattacharya during the journey where he expressed his shock that he had to wear seat belt in the bus. I argued that it was commendable that Swiss laws valued human life. I do not remember much of what else we talked about, only that Sunny slept peacefully during that one hour. Geet hailed me as a hero.

After our two days journey through the cities, it was time to visit the Alps. As our bus lifted higher and higher above the sea level, the frenzy of walking on snow that had footprints of Bollywood stars imprinted on it reached an unnerving crescendo. The bus snaked through a thousand tunnels and we saw villages on the edge of lakes surrounded by picturesque blanket of greens. People were straining their necks to get a first peek of the peaks and if the suspense would have carried on for another half an hour, we would have ended up with a new mutated specie that would have been a cross between a human and a giraffe.

Mrs. Bhattacharya was holding her camera so close to her bosom that anyone would have thought that she had a third eye there. In addition, she was jumping in the aisle with enough glee to give me a heart attack. I held Geet’s hands and chanted Hanuman Chalisa. Then everything happened very quickly.

“Boooooooootiphool! There there! Alps!!” Mrs. Bhattacharya screamed seconds before the bus entered a tunnel.

“Bhere?” Dr. Bhattacharya screamed back staring disappointingly at the insides of the tunnel. Sunny shut his eyes tightly pretending that he was asleep.

Soon the tunnel ended and the scream repeated itself. I saw a pair of buttocks jumping up and down in my line of sight and quickly realized that my armrest was not in place. I pushed it down in the nick of time and seconds later Mrs. Bhattacharya tumbled on it instead of my lap.

“Sorry,” she chirruped.

“If I would have been one second late, we would have spent the rest of our life searching for sperm donors,” I whispered in Geet’s ear. She looked with disdain at Mrs. Bhattacharya.

“What is she? A horse with crackers tied to its tail?” she squeaked.

“Control your emotions. The Alps are here,” I said, rotating her head to the window.

We stayed at the village of Engelburg, surrounded by snow covered Alps and minutes away from Mount Titlis and an hour’s drive from Jungfrau. We saw sulking Sunny during dinner. One look at his face and you could tell that the educational tour was spreading like slow poison inside him. Thank God the food was Indian.

The next day we had to take a train to the highest railway station in Europe at 11,000 ft. The prospect was endearing and would have left anyone wide-eyed. As the train spiraled up the tunnel, I spotted Sunny through the gap between the seats, sleeping peacefully. His father was frantically trying to wake him up while his mother was talking pictures of the darkness outside. I poked Geet and made her conscious of the sight. And then both of us started laughing. We laughed till tears ran down our eyes, till our faces turned red with the effort to suppress our laughter. Everyone was staring at us. The tour operator gave us uneasy looks. Our unchecked spurts of laughter took a good fifteen minutes to subside.

Later, I felt nothing but pity for the child. In a bid to train their child to become a Superman, Mr. and Mrs. Bhattacharya had ruined his holiday. Wasn’t the kid supposed to enjoy this precious time with his parents? We bid Bhattacharya family goodbye at London airport and that was the last time I saw Sunny. I hope his relationship with his parents does not hit rock bottom, although the chances of this happening are slim.

It has been three years since I visited Switzerland but there are a few moments that are etched forever in my memory –

– Sunny’s lost gaze

– Geet and I laughing hysterically in a tilted train inside a mountain

– Geet and I sitting in the balcony of our room in Engelburg with a blanket draped on both of us, looking at the fog drifting over the mountains.

– Sabotage of Mrs. Bhattacharya’s attempt to cut my family tree.

 

[All the pictures are taken by me]

How not giving a bribe lead to a Honeymoon in Paris

I was in Manchester when Geet and I decided to get married. It was an arranged marriage and our parents had given us a month to talk and decide. We liked each other from the first telephone conversation we had. It wasn’t awkward. It was like talking to an old friend. Then a few webcams later, we said yes. Just like that. Without actually meeting. Geet was in India.

I flew back to India for a small ceremony. That was the first time we saw each other in flesh and everything felt warm and happy. It was one of those days when the world seemed beautiful.

Our marriage was four months later and thus telephone conversations and Skype chats sessions started. We were never physically there during our courtship but we never felt the distance. After all we were going to spend our whole life together. There was sweetness in that longing. I sent her chocolates, teddy bears, flowers and romantic songs.

As the D-day approached, I started preparing for our Honeymoon. I was coming to India for three weeks and I booked a room in Leela Kempenski in Kovalam. The hotel was located on a cliff near the ocean and you could see the whole ocean from your room. It was heavenly. I kept it a secret. It was a surprise for Geet.

Marriage happened with all the riot of colours, dancing, food, loads of relatives and photographs which an Indian wedding happens to provide. Both of us were exhausted and exhilarated by the end of it. We slept like a log for two days. After we woke up, the plan was to get our marriage certificate done, go to Kovalam and then apply for Geet’s Visa on our return. We were relying on the assumption that the marriage certificate will be done in two days. Many of our friends asked us to bribe the clerks in the office so that it was not delayed. We reached the office, filed our application without bribing anyone and waited. Soon the main officer called us and asked for Geet’s residential proof of my house! I told him that we just got married. How was she supposed to have a residential proof so soon? He asked us to open a joint account in a bank and use it as a proof. Basically, we did not bribe the clerks and so they had decided to ruin it for us. After all, people had got their marriage certificates in the same office in two hours. So, we opened a joint account in a bank and submitted it as a proof. We finally got our marriage certificate in three days but there was no time to go to Kovalam. I called up Leela Kempenski and asked them to cancel my booking. The amount was non-refundable. I asked them to take the money. They were taken aback. Finally, they didn’t take the money. I figured someone else might have booked the room after I cancelled.

I was sulking. I was angry. Our honeymoon was ruined. Geet told me that it was ok and we could go somewhere else later. I promised myself that I would not let a loser ruin my happiness. We got Geet’s visa done and came to Manchester. And then I got the perfect idea of a honeymoon. It was a dream and I was scared to touch it. I kicked myself for not thinking about it before. I applied for Schengen and soon our tickets to Paris were booked. Take that for ruining our honeymoon you loser, bribe sucking clerk!

Paris was a different planet. It was utopia. We were like two wide-eyed kids lost in the streets of Paris, sometimes deliberately. We did all the touristy things – kissed on the top of the Eiffel Tower, visited Mickey and Minnie in Disneyland, bought expensive French perfumes, took a Seine boat cruise, ambled in the gardens of Versailles, gawked at Mona Lisa in Louvre, sat in silence in Notre Dame, marvelled at the modern art collection at Georges Pompidou, devoured mushroom and cheese croissants and travelled in Paris Metro but all this was not what defined Paris for us. It was a tune played on an accordion.

It was our first day in Paris. We got down from the automatic metro which took us from our airport terminal to the one at which we could get an RER train to our hotel. The train soon chugged in and we took a corner seat in one of the almost empty compartments. Two women were chatting in French a few seats away, a drunken beggar was sleeping on another and a man was standing near the door with an accordion in his hand. Soon he started playing a tune and suddenly there were goosebumps all over Geet and me. We looked at each other and smiled and then Geet’s head was on my shoulder, her hand curled in mine. The tune was so unreservedly romantic that somehow the moment stood still. We wanted him to go on forever. The tune dissolved effortlessly with the rhythm of the train. That one moment defined Paris for us, not the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre or French perfumes. For us it was a city where two lovers could hold hands and melt away in the spell while a stranger played an incredibly dreamy tune for them on an accordion.

I gave the stranger a generous tip after he finished. He was surprised and said Merci. I almost asked him to play it again.

And then I did something I had never imagined I would do. I thanked the clerk who delayed my marriage certificate.

(image of accordion from – http://www.music.vt.edu/musicdictionary/texta/accordion.html)

[This post has been written for Indiblogger Incredible stories]

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Cliffs, Ships and Spotlights

Going to Manchester was a high. I had always wanted to smell the soil of another country, take a lung-full of alien air. It was a whole new world. Different. Exciting. Scary. I learnt to say thank you, even to the bus drivers. I saw roads filled with flower petals in autumn. I saw endless rows of green hills during my train journeys to London. I absorbed the beauty of Britain like a sponge.

It was February when I landed there. The cold numbed my hands and I had to wear gloves to warm them back to feelings. It snowed later that day. It was the first time I had seen white cotton falling from the sky. It was overwhelming. Soon, I with my three flat-mates started to plan for a trip to Isle of Wight. No one went there in winters but then in Britain you pretty much don’t go anywhere in bleak winters.

I took upon me to plan the trip. From creating a map of the small island on the southern tip of England on a piece of paper to hiring a car on an online portal to booking a B&B, I did it all. I was like Alice in wonderland, wide eyed and not too sure whether all this was real. So, I pinched myself and planned.

There were no bridges to the Isle. You have to tuck your car in a ferry. We landed in Fishbourne and drove to our B&B. The island was awfully quite. It was off season. We stayed on the island for three days, visiting the deserted beaches like Shanklin, Ryde, Sandown and Yarmouth. We watched sunrise braving unexceptional cold winds. We went to the Needles, late for the sunset and ran into people coming back. They were beautiful three days but there is one incident which stands out. It changed something in me.

We were at the Yaverland beach looking at the seagulls and the waves lapping the shore. I was staring at the white cliff on my left. I was fascinated by it. I wanted to run and reach its top. I asked my friends if we could walk up there and they were horrified. I told them that I was going up and I will meet them for lunch. Excitingly, I started walking up the Culver cliff. The cliff was completely deserted and after walking for fifteen minutes, I could see no signs of humanity. I was walking very close to the edge of the cliff and there were red danger signs all over asking people to stay away as the edges had a tendency to break free. The horizon was receding as I walked up and ships which were hidden earlier started appearing. The sky was dark greyish cloudy but the wind was less wild up here.

The cliff was less broken at the top and there were wooden fences at the edges. I glanced at a few black sheep roaming around and a small house far off from the cliff edge. But that wasn’t something that caught my eye. I was staring at the vast expanse of ocean and ships looking like small toys, lazying around in the calm water. The only sound which I could hear was that of the wind, dancing around in slow rhythms, broken once by a speeding water scooter which looked like a shooting star from where I stood. A man walked by with his dog. He was going down the cliff.

“Beautiful day”, he said.

“Yes. Yes, it is”, I said, still staring at the ocean, inhaling deeply.

And then the clouds parted.

Spotlights started falling on the ships. The ocean was shimmering. It was as if something divine was making an appearance. I knew at that moment that I was looking at something I would never forget my entire life. The sun played hide and seek with the ocean for a long time, hiding behind the black clouds and then appearing somewhere else. It was peaceful. I had never felt such calm. It was like watching a play in a theatre, spotlights falling on artists performing with tranquillity and poise.

The play of nature forced me to reflect. Our life goes through a lot of turmoil as we grow up, wishes to be fulfilled, goals to be achieved. Something similar to the sky with dark clouds hovering over the sea. But then sunshine breaks in once in a while and we are so wound up in the race that we fail to acknowledge it. We fail to absorb the placidity it brings with it.

I called my friends on their mobile and asked them to come up.

“You are missing the sunshine”, I told them. They walked up finally and all of us sat near the edge of the cliff for a while, staring at the ships and spotlights. There was a smile on everyone’s face.

It has been five years since I walked up the Culver Cliff, perhaps for the first and last time, but I still recreate that scene to appease myself whenever I am tense. I close my eyes and imagine myself standing on the cliff, staring at the divine spotlight falling on the ocean. I have always believed that there is so much to see in the world that it is a sin to visit the same place twice. But, then, someday I might walk up that cliff again for old times sake, for the spotlights and the ships.

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Taj Mahal and the pats of past

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Although I visited Taj Mahal when I was too young to understand what I was beholding, I was awestruck by the enormity of the tomb. I carried the image of the huge, almost white dome, the intricate designs and the graves of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal with me. I somehow knew at that time that I will go there again someday; go there to absorb the city, to walk alongside the ghosts of the Mughal Emperors.

Almost 15 years later, I was back in Agra, this time with Geet – all romantic and ready to gaze at Taj Mahal turning pale orange while the Sun bow to the night. The first thing that struck me about Agra was how much the city has changed. I remembered it as a disorganized city, sprouting with rickshaws and horse carts, beggars and tour guides, Petha (an Agra delicacy) and souvenir shops. It was less disorganized. Urbanization has touched it.

We checked-in in a hotel which was at a walking distance from the eastern gate of Taj Mahal. In the hotel the water was salty and Dal Makhni was conspicuous by its absence but that is another post. There was an Agra tourism building right next to the hotel from where you could buy tickets for Taj Mahal. It was a clean building with foreign exchange counters, a restaurant/bar and numerous souvenir shops. There were battery operated cars, horse carts, camel carts and rickshaws to take you to the eastern gate. We got a guide from the tourism building and he introduced us to a photographer who was to take our pictures as we circle the white mausoleum.

A tip – It is a good idea to take a photographer with you and the quality of the pictures is great. Make sure you ask him the rate of each photo and then let him know the number of pictures you want him to take. Otherwise you will end up with a big album and a big dent in your pocket.

Needless to say that Taj is a beauty. You will end up staring at the magnificence for a long time. An image of it on television or a postcard can not come close to the experience of seeing it with your own eyes. It’s breathtaking. There is a legend that Shah Jahan wanted to build a black marble replica on the other side of Yamuna with a silver bridge connecting the two. What a sight it would have been.

Fatehpur Sikri was our first stop the next day. It is a city which was built by Akbar and have courts, royal palaces, private quarters etc all carved in red stone. It contains famous structures like Jodha Bai’s palace, Buland Darwaza, Tomb of Salim Chisti, Diwan-i-khas and Panch Mahal. As you move through these structures, you get an incredible feeling of moving back in time. Remind yourself that this was the place where Birbal made everyone laugh with his humor, Tansen sang his spell binding ragas, Jodha Bai and Akbar lived together and Faizi wrote his poems and you will get Goosebumps as you walk through the city.

A tip – Fatehpur Sikri is located around 50 kms from Agra and can be reached by a cab (~1400 Rs for a round trip). Guides, hawkers and small children will run after you all the time but try to avoid them if you know how to read. Learn to say “No” 100 times in 60 seconds.

Agra Fort was our next stop in the evening. The Fort was primarily used by Shah Jahan as his court. He was finally imprisoned and kept there by his son Aurangzeb and died there looking at the Taj Mahal from the southern walls of the fort. There is a sound and light show in the evening which is worth watching. By the time it will be over, you will never forget the bloodline of the Mughal Emperors or the fact that Babur gifted the Kohinoor to Humayun or Noor Jahan invented perfumes.

Next day, we took an autorikshaw from our hotel and reached Sikandra, location of the Tomb of the Mughal Emperor Akbar. It is a beautiful structure and the entrance is carved with beautiful, colorful patterns. On seeing the long, cold tunnel that takes you to the grave, I realized that I have been to this place earlier. It’s strange how I do not remember anything about the beautiful mausoleum but only that I was scared crazy while passing though that dark tunnel into an equally dark dome with a tomb in the center. We roamed on the pathway surrounding the tomb watching herds of deer laze in the gardens and then moved on to our next destination – Itmad-ud-daulah, which is the tomb of Noor Jahan’s father Mirza Ghiyas Beg and is one of the most intricately crafted mausoleums in Agra. With its geometrical decorations on the outside and fruits and flowers encrusted white marble inside, it is a beautifully created building. It might have been peaceful outside the mausoleum earlier, but now it is cramped with shops and blaring music. It’s a shame.

We were back to Taj in the evening, to have a look at it a last time as the sun fades away.

A tip– Try taking an autorikshaw to roam around in Agra if the weather is good. They are cheaper and we found the drivers very polite, even helpful. Day 3 cost us Rs 300 for the whole trip from East gate of Taj Mahal to Sikandra to Itmad-ud-daulah and back.

A recurring pattern which was disturbing was that many mausoleums require some urgent restoration. I really wish they are restored before they end up as irrevocable ruins. There were patched on the domes and walls which were missing. Elaborate craftsmanship lost forever.

The city left us in a flux of emotions. Although there are pockets of Agra which are underdeveloped and poor (You will encounter them while going to Fatehpur Sikri and Sikandra), urbanization and the remains of the Mughal era stand side by side as a reminder of how times have changed. In that way, the city is very similar to Delhi. It was the city of kings and looking at those proud structures made me wonder if we have an equally powerful legacy of our own times to leave behind.

[all the pictures are taken by me]

Lake District

72 hours seemed to be a very long time to stare continuously at my laptop screen so a three day long bank holiday looming at the horizon spanked me into instant action last week. Discussions, Google maps, suggestions from the natives and an exhaustive search on the Internet helped me to create a rough sketch of what I wanted to see in the Lake district. Although I must confess that “Lake District” does not require such detailed Internet surfing but I like to have the details before I start. 😉

Lake District(also known as LakeLand) is an area in North West England famous for is natural beauty and its 20+ lakes and natural reservoirs. It is a very popular tourist destination and has unsurpassed and untouched natural beauty. Its a place where many poems of William Wordsworth were born and where he was finally buried.

We got up early, made some Subway style chicken sandwiches and picked up our car from the Airport and set out to explore the “real” Europe, as SRK famously said in DDLJ. I was sure that our path would keep us on the highway most of the time but we were in for a big surprise.

Our first destination was WastWater, which is the deepest lake in the district and stretches to 4.6 km. We were initially on the highway, but suddenly our path turned towards small two way roads on the hills. For an hour, we were not even sure that we were going in the right direction and blindly followed the GPS. It was thrilling and the weather added to the effect by being misty. Finally, when we reached WastWater after driving through the lush green hills, the first thing which hit us was the “untouched” natural beauty. No human intervention except for the road.

Someone just forgot to commercialize this beautiful lake and I was thankful. The lake was surrounded by high mountains covered in mist(this line is getting repetitive. Isn’t it?? 😐 ) with small streams of water running into it from the mountains. There were hardly any people around and we savored the quietness.

We walked around the lake, took deep breaths and some nice shots and moved to our next destination – Grasmere.

While snaking through the hills towards Grasmere, we passed through a few small villages where we couldn’t see a single soul but a lot of animals and through pathways covered with dense trees blooming with flowers which at times swirled down as the car passed through them. Believe me, you would love to get lost in such a place. And yes, just for fun, we terrified a goat sheep too!

Grasmere is a village(the most beautiful one you can ever see) which has a lake by the same name. It became famous because of its connection with the Lake Poets and because of William Wordsworth, who lived here for 14 years and was finally buried here at the St Oswald’s Church. By the time we reached Grasmere, we were dead hungry and so after parking the car, we were searching for a place to have our lunch when my eyes fell on a perfect place to eat.

It was a small restaurant with a stream running besides it. On the other side of the stream was THE Church. I found the spot incredibly romantic. 🙂 Here is another shot.

We roamed around in the church after having our lunch and saw the graves of the Wordsworth family. I even bought a small handbook of poems by the famous poet.

We ambled around the village for sometime and the lake(where I found my dream house)…

…before moving towards our final destination – Windermere, the most commercialized lake in Lake District and England’s longest lake. Frankly speaking, I was not expecting much because I like places when they are untouched. But surprisingly, the place was not that bad. I liked it for exactly the opposite reason for which I liked Wastwater. It was crowded, with people, yachts, lakeside restaurants, ducks and boats all around. It was almost 5.30 when we reached there and there was no boat tour to Ambleside for the day, but there was a lake tour on 6.30. We took that tour and I must say that this lake has the most picturesque surrounding you can ever imagine. Check out the pictures if you don’t believe me!

We finally had a quick bite before moving back to Manchester at around 8. The best part is that now a day, there is daylight till 9.30-10.00 pm and you can utilize the whole day. It was a day filled with incredible beauty and all of us loved every second of it.

p.s. I am sorry for armageddon-ing you with so many photos, but I really couldn’t make up my mind about which ones should I remove. 🙂 Oh! There is one more! 😛

Over and Out!

Edinburgh and Scottish Highlands Tour (Part 2)

Related post : Edinburgh and Scottish Highlands Tour (Part 1)

After roaming around in Edinburgh we all slept like a log that night. We had to wake up at 5:30 in the morning the next day to catch our tour bus to Loch Ness, Glen Coe and the Scottish Highlands. Our tour bus started from the Loch Ness Discovery Centre at the Royal Mile. I booked the tickets almost a month ago from here. This was this route, which was carved out for us for the tour. You can move or enlarge the map if you wish.

 

Our tour guide Paul was a very jovial and friendly guy and instantly made everyone in the bus comfortable. The Bus was nothing less than a mini globe with people from USA, Spain, Italy, Scotland, India, China and God knows how many other countries. Paul always made a point that we replied to all his queries with an “Aye” and “Okhaaye” so that we could become partially Scottish.

[The highway as we moved towards Perth. The snow looks like white blotches of paint that fell off from God’s palette while he was painting]

We started our journey by crossing the Forth Road Bridge about which I already wrote in Part 1. We soon passed through Perth viewing some picturesque views of the River Tay(which is incidentally the longest river in Scotland) bending and curving with the highway. As we moved ahead, we made a stop at Pitlochry for breakfast where a pair of Italian guys was late even after constant reminders by Paul about being on time after breakfast. Everyone clapped as they entered the bus and we moved towards Killiecrankie which is famous for the stunning and ironical Battle of Killiecrankie resulting in the victory of the Jacobites and the death of their leader. 

[The clouds cast shadow on the mountains creating beautiful scenes]

As we moved ahead, the landscape changed drastically. From cultivable land and lush green farms to barren mountains laden with snow. The scenery became more and more stunning as we progressed and whenever we made a stop somewhere, everyone jumped out of the bus to click pictures. Paul told us stories about how the Kings of Scotland have been cursed and many of them died one after another in accidents, how Macbeth(the name of the protagonist in William Shakespeare‘s Macbeth) was actually derived from the name of Macbeth of Scotland and how Macbeth(the play) was euphemistically called “The Scottish Play” because it was cursed. 

 

[I am not sure but I took this photograph some where near Loch Lochy]

[I took this photograph during the Ferry Ride on the Loch Ness trying to spot a monster!]

Moving further north into the Highlands, we crossed the village of Dalwhinnie which was famous for its Dalwhinnie Single Malt Scotch Whisky. We crossed the Spean Bridge towards Fort Augustus for some monster spotting!!! This was the only part of the tour which we had to retrace back to move towards Fort William. Fort Augustus is situated at the South West end of Loch Ness. We stopped at Fort Augustus for lunch and Paul suggested that we try some Haggis which is a Scottish delicacy. I was gung-ho about trying it but Paul did the mistake of telling us what it is made of! Although a true blue carnivore, I was somehow not able to bring myself to eat that! Next time maybe. 🙂 Instead I took a ferry ride into the Loch Ness in the hope of spotting the legendary Loch Ness Monster. Even after being in water for a good 45 minutes, all I was able to get were some beautiful worth sharing photographs. Next time maybe, I’ll see the monster raising his head out of the Loch Ness. 🙂

[A broken and unused bridge at Fort Augustus]

After the ferry ride and a quick bite of haggis-less chicken and pork lunch, we moved back to the Spean Bridge towards Fort William. There were beautiful snow clad mountains all around covered in mist. We had our whisky sipping experience near Fort William. As we moved towards South now, we saw Britain’s highest mountain, Ben Nevis. We were not able to see the peak as it was covered with snow with a huge patch of clouds encircling it. We were informed that that is how it remains for almost the whole of the year. 

[On our way to Fort William]

From here our bus turned towards Glencoe, the location of the Massacre of Glencoe. This was ironically the most beautiful part of the trip. We listened to Paul as he narrated the events than unfolded the night the massacre took place. We were spellbound, not just by the story, but by the beauty around us. How can something so gruesome happen in such a beautiful place? We halted at a spot in the middle of the valley surrounded by barren mountains all around us, some of them shrouded in mist and covered with snow. The place is ideal for trekking and evidently many people come for that in Glencoe.

[The hills where the Glencoe Massacre took place]

[Glencoe]

After Glencoe, we turned towards Stirling making a quick stop at a small village called Tyndrum. For those of you who have seen the movie Braveheart, Sterling was the place where the battle was fought between William Wallace(played by Mel Gibson) and the English army during the War of Scottish Independence. There is a monument dedicated to him in Sterling called the Wallace Monument. Although we did not stop at Sterling, but Paul did pointed out the Monument and the Sterling Castle as we finally moved back towards Edinburgh. We reached back in Edinburgh at 7:30 pm. A day spent well!! The rest of the day was spent roaming around in the city.

[The Scottish Parliament]

[Shocking!!! Rikshaws make a comeback!]

The next day, our train left at 12 in the afternoon, so we had ample time to have a look at the Palace of Holyroodhouse, which is the  official residence of the Monarch of the United Kingdom in Scotland. Its a shame that we were not allowed to take pictures inside because it was the most awe-inspiring piece of architecture you could ever imagine. We were able to take pictures of the ruins of the Augustinian Abbey though. Finally we took a walk in the Royal gardens and have a look at the Queen’s Gallery which exhibits works of art from the Royal collection. If you ever go there, don’t miss the Tribuna of the Uffizi by Johann Zoffany. It is the most outstanding painting in the collection.

[The ruins of the beautiful Abbey at Holyrood Palace]

[Another view of the Abbey]

[Another view of the Abbey. It was so grand that I felt like sitting there for hours]

Finally we were ready to bid adieu to this beautiful city to returned back to Manchester. There were many places which we had missed because of the lack of time. But yes, while leaving, I knew that I would return one day to see them. When we reached the Waverley station, we were surprised to know that we had a bus from Edinburgh till Lockerbie instead of a train. Well it was a blessing in disguise because at Lockerbie, we had the most delicious Fish and chips of our lives while we waited for our train to Preston. 

[This is not a windows wallpaper. I took this during the bus ride from Edinburgh to Lockerbie.]

I should not say this but Manchester looked like an ugly concrete jungle after returning from Edinburgh. 😉

Edinburgh and Scottish Highlands Tour (Part 1)

Four days of Easter holidays was a good enough reason to set out for an exploration of the United Kingdom. Earlier, Switzerland and France were also in the picture but then I pictured my parents lashing out at me for wasting all that money and so I had to settle down for something nearer. Wales and Scotland were the options which came to my mind, and so Scotland it was. We planned for a 2.5 days tour to Edinburgh and the Highlands almost a month before Easter. Easter is one of the busiest time here as the tourist season starts from April and its a good practice that everything is booked well in advance. 

We started on a cold Good Friday morning from the Railway Station in Manchester and took the train to Edinburgh. The train reminded me of DDLJ and I did peeped out of the door to see if Simran was anywhere in sight! 

No! Thats not her! 😦

The train journey was quite eventful as the train snaked through the lush green mountain terrains and gave us a glimpse of the life beyond the cities. We arrived at Edinburgh at 9.15 am and got down at the Haymarket Station. After a quick dump-bags-in-B&B act, we took a cab to the Waverley Bridge. It was then that the beauty of the city struck us like a bolt of lightening. 

Edinburgh is the Capital city of Scotland and one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. The moment you are there, you will feel a strong urge to be lost in its streets. You would want to walk around not knowing where you want to go and just absorb the beauty around you. I don’t know what makes everything so incredibly beautiful in this city. Is it the perfect blend of the new and the old? Its a city which overwhelms you instantly.

This is the Waverley Bridge. The city tour buses start from this bridge(from the point where the Red bus is standing). The Princess Mall is on the other side of the bridge. All the buildings which you can see are a part of the old town. The place where the Waverley station is built was once the Nor Loch(pronounced lo-kh), which was the city’s water supply and the dumping ground of sewage. It was drained in 1820 and a New town was created just opposite to the old town. The soil was dumped in the drained canal which created a mound. This is how the mound looks like now:

Impressive. Isn’t it? This is the National Gallery of Scotland which was build on top of the mound and the railway lines were tunneled right below it. I took this photograph while climbing the Scott Monument which is another beautiful piece of architecture built in 1845. 

This is the Scott Monument which provides a breathtaking view of the city. You can see the Edinburgh Castle and the Firth of Forth at the same time. Here is a view of the New Town. The New town was built starting from 1766 and was a solution to the ever increasing population in the Old Town.

Coming back to the Waverley Bridge!! We took the Bus and boat tour which took us through the various landmarks of the city and finally on a boat trip into the Firth of Forth. The boat trip was a memorable experience as it took us below the Forth Road Bridge and then below the iconic Forth Rail Bridge which was opened in 1890 and is considered as the one internationally recognised Scottish landmark. 98 workers lost their life during its construction. 

The Forth Rail Bridge

The Road and the Rail bridge. Both the Bridges connect Edinburgh with Fife.

There are a lot of islands strewn over the Firth of Forth. The Ferry stops at the Inchcolm Island. You can get down there and take back the next ferry or may come back in the same one. There will be a lot of Seagulls around and if you are lucky enough(as we were!!), you can spot Seals too.

There are a variety of Bus tours available which you can book from Here.

After having a quick bite(which was roasted pork and duck with boiled rice for me 😉 ), we headed towards the Royal Mile. The Royal Mile in the Old Town is a mile long stretch between the Edinburgh Castle and the Palace of Holyroodhouse and is the most picturesque part of the city. We headed towards the Edinburgh castle which stands on top of a volcanic rock. The site has been inhibited since the Bronze age and the building of the present castle dates back to the 12th Century. A few pictures of the Castle, the Royal Mile and the Palace of Holyroodhouse.

The Edinburgh Castle

The Royal Mile

The Royal Mile

The Palace of Holyroodhouse

Camera Obscura is also a wonderful place to visit. It is located near the Edinburgh castle and contains some great illusions, 3D holograms and a thermal imaging camera. 

The illusion of parallel mirrors

We spent the rest of the day roaming around the city on foot. There was a very happy feel to the city. Everyone was laughing and enjoying and why not? It was Easter! There were Bagpipers playing the beautiful instrument and there was a man sitting near an ancient structure on the Royal Mile playing a Violin. There were people sitting in the street bars and chatting happily. Finally, we had a beer in a Bar near the Picardy Place Roundabout before heading back to the B&B. It was a beautiful day and I fell in love with a city for the first time. Now I know how it feels like! 🙂

The next day we went to the Highlands, another scarcely inhibited and breathtaking part of Scotland with some tragic history. More on it in the next post. I leave you with a few random pics.

 

The Scott Monument

The Bagpipers at the Royal Mile

From the Top of the Scott Monument

Inside Edinburgh Castle

Inside the Scott Monument

In front of a Multiplex in the New Town

St. Giles Church on the Royal Mile

To be continued….

p.s. there are an overwhelming large number of photographs in my collection. 950 to be precise for the 2.5 days!!! If you still have an appetite left, then you can view 70 of them here. 

 

Isle of Wight Trip

Phew! I feel like an underwear in a washing machine. Life is running faster than I could have imagined and all I could do is to muster up enough strength to stand steady. Getting used to a place is not easy as it sucks out all that you were used to. For me, it sucked out blogging, and for a few days I could not gather my thoughts to put them on my laptop screen and neither could I raise my finger to open my Reader. So, apologies, dear friends! And I hope that all of you would understand! 

So, coming back to the topic, one of my roomies here returned to India last week. Before going back he wanted to go to a nice, beautiful, peaceful place and the options were very less because:

• Usually October-March is considered off season here in UK as Winters is a terrible time to roam around.
• He had already seen London, Scotland, Blackpool and Lake District, all of which I still have to visit. So all these options were ruled out.

The only two options left were Wales and Isle Of Wight, both of which were again under an Off-season spell. Finally Wales was ruled out too and we ended up booking a car and Preeto(our TomTom aka GPS) for three days. Before going further, let me tell you about Isle of Wight as most of you must be in an impression that its the name of a Crater on the fifth moon of Saturn. Isle Of Wight is a small island on the Southern Tip of Great Britain. Its about 257 miles from Manchester which is about a 5 hours drive. The Isle is not accessible by road which means that you have to shove your car in a ferry and take it to the isle and vice versa. During summers there is a huge advanced booking for the ferry but we were fortunate due to our perfect timings!

This is the island as you can see in the map above. We went upto Portsmouth(upper right corner in the map) in the car and then took a ferry to Fishbourne, which is on the north east corner of the isle. Ferries also operate from Southampton and Lymington. Take your pick! 

The Island is spread over an area of mere 380 sq Km and is famous for its beautiful beaches of Shanklin, Ryde, Sandown and Yarmouth. Besides the beaches there was so much to explore that we found it extremely difficult to keep up the pace. And all this during the off season! Two notable, must visit points of the diamond shaped island are the Culver cliff and The Needles. If you really want to understand the meaning of breathtaking, you must visit these two points on the island. The Needles is undoubtedly the most picturesque area of the island which looks like the end of the chalk coloured ridge which runs across the whole island. 

The Culver Cliff on the other hand was used as a defence point as it was used to keep an eye on the vast ocean all around it. There were two nine inch guns kept there but the cliffs kept on eroding and most of it was lost. Now also, if you walk along the cliff, you can see the warning boards and the broken cliffs all around. I would suggest you to park your car at Yaverland beach and walk up the cliff from there towards the last point. Its a tiring walk of about half an hour but what you will see along the way is what you would never forget. 

Finally, there were many points of interest like The Osborne house, Carrisbrooke Castle, the zoo and the Railway Museum which we missed because they were closed due to the off season. It was a beautiful memorable trip and there were a bunch of breathtaking scenes which I would never forget in my life. I leave you with a few attempts to capture them:

This is a view of the Culver Cliff from Sandown Beach. If you see closely, there is a pole like structure on top of the cliff. That is the Yarborough Monument at the edge of the cliff. That is where you could walk up the cliff. And you have to be there to understand how the vast expanse of the ocean looks like from there, sprinkled with ships and with shimmering spots of sunlight strewn here and there.

Well, this is what I was talking about. A few pictures of the view from the top of the cliff.

Here are a few pictures I took while I was walking up the cliff

 

 

The Yarborough Monument

We woke up a 5:30 in the morning on the second day and went to see the sunrise. It was freezing cold and apparently we were the only one on the Sandown beach. The island loves to sleep!

And that’s me, staring at the Sun.

I took this picture in Portsmouth from the upper deck of the ferry. The ferry was about to move towards the isle and I saw this building just next to the port. Isn’t this a beautiful place to live? Sitting in the balcony, sipping tea and looking at the vast expanse of the ocean and the huge ships moving around you!

View of Portsmouth as the Ferry moved away from it. By the way, Ferry seems to be a mild word for that ship. There were atleast 60 cars in it when it left Portsmouth!!!

Thats the “Ferry”!!!

The Needles was another fascinating point of the island. We reached there after the Sun had just jumped into the sea and the play of colours on the sky were seen to be believed. Here is a view of The Needles as we moved towards the edge of the cliff.

This picture was taken while we moved towards the Needles. Everyone was coming back after seeing the sunset and we were the only ones who were moving in the opposite direction. 🙂

That is the view of The Needles from the nearest point. It was quite dark by the time we reached there.

A few more random pictures:

This was taken while the ferry left the British mainland.

Taken at Ryde Beach. Are these Seagulls? They made an awful lot of noise.

The sleeping city in the morning.

An unknown castle on our way to a beach. Don’t know the name.

What a way to go up!!!

Water gushing up during a high tide. The foot of the Culver cliff which is accessible during the low tide and are great for an evening walk are completely immersed in water during a high tide.

This was taken from the ferry back to Portsmouth as the sun set behind the isle.

And finally I would like to dedicate this post to Preeto, our Tomtom(GPS) who was very patient with us and always guided us with her sweet voice even when we went off track atleast 5 times! We love you Preeto!!

Manchester – Photo feature

My first weekend in Manchester thankfully dismissed my doubts that I am living in a ghost town. It takes some time to realize that unlike India, the shopping area and office buildings are far away from the residential area. In the last one week, I have hardly seen any people near my home. Even the cars seem to be moving on their own. 🙂 But, when I visited Piccadilly and Trafford Centre in the weekend, I could hardly walk without bumping into other people. Here are a few noteworthy pictures of the endeavor. Some of them are outright stupid(for e.g. the first one), but I am sure you will enjoy them. 🙂

This one is a random picture which I clicked while roaming on the streets of Manchester. The place is full of such beautiful houses.

Well, yes, Rusholme street is full of Indian restaurants and sweet shops. Indian food is quite a hit here and you can find some good and authentic restaurants here.

The BBC office on the way to Piccadilly.

The Tram cum Metro service of Manchester. The Metro runs on elevated tracks through the city and slides down on the road in Piccadilly and turns into a Tram service. Remember all those songs in Hindi movies where the actors are dancing in front of such trains? Well, I too felt dancing like Govinda when I saw this one. 🙂

The Central park area of Piccadilly is full of such beautiful statues. Look at the folds of the dress.

 The Manchester Eye is build as a replica of the London eye, but a smaller one.

The Manchester Eye during the night. Doesn’t it look like a giant UFO rising behind the buildings?

A Church in Piccadilly. It looked like a ghost church during the night. We sat in front of it while the Church bells rang. It was mesmerising.

A structure in front of the church. Notice the greens here and there.

The Trafford Centre in Manchester. This is one of the biggest Mall I have seen, and the most eloquent. Just to give you an idea, it comprised of a multiplex with 25 screens.

Beautiful statues at the Trafford Centre.

The wishing pool. All the black dots inside the water are coins.

The grand structures outside the Multiplex Odean. Couldn’t stop myself from clicking a few more. 🙂

Here is another one, while I waited for my friend to collect the tickets of “The Curious case of Benjamin Button”. The movie was a masterpiece, by the way.

Another one. The top view.

Tea, anyone?

The massive foodcourt at Trafford center. A mindboggling variety of fooditems at your disposal and a beautiful ceiling.

Another picture of the architecture.

And, that’s me again with Martin Chuzzlewit, sitting on the stairs of my house and waiting for the washroom to be freed of any human activities. Another one of those stupid pictures! 😛

That’s all gents and ladies. Hope you enjoyed the pictures. Hopefully I will be roaming around this weekend also and will update you with more pics of my adventures.

Straight from Manchester

Its a strange feeling sitting in Manchester and writing my first post from there. It has been a strange and riveting 48 hours. On Friday morning, I did not even had a clue if I would fly or not and in the evening, there  I was, standing in the bustling Metro and returning home with a ticket to Manchester in my bag. I had to fly the very next day. Everyone was speechless due to the sudden surge of events and I had no time to give parties to my bellowing group of friends. 

While zipping my suitcase just an hour before I was to leave home, I goofed up and forgot the number sequence I used to lock the bag. Finally I realized that since the sequence can only have numbers from 000 to 999, I could try all of them and one of them will open the bag. 😉 Well, thankfully, I did not even reach 200 when the bag clicked open on a combination and my whole family gave a collective sigh of relief. 😀

I had to switch flights at Abu Dhabi. I was surprised to see the crowd in the first flight. It comprised of rustic and shabbily dressed punjabi men who gulped each and every hard drink which was served on the flight. And guess which movie was the Punjabi Munda sitting next to me was watching? Singh is King!!! 🙂 I saw Mamma Mia which I wanted  to watch since a long time! Abu Dabhi airport was not very large but I gorged on the beautiful design.

The flight to Manchester from Abu Dhabi was eight hours long and I slept during the most of it. I also saw Mrs Doubtfire and an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. The best part was the flight navigation system in which you can see the exact location of the plane on your screen and the trajectory it is taking. Also, there was a camera fitted at the front of the plane and you can set your screen to view the breathtaking cockpit view of takeoff and landing. I know most of you must be familiar with all these features, but then what the hell, its my first time! 😛

And, to torment you further, like all the people who end up clicking each and every bus and building when they go to a foreign land, here are two pictures of a “Sex drive in cinemas” double Decker bus and my neighbourhood.

 

Jokes apart, next three months are going to be very hectic as there are more responsibilities on my head. I have to live upto the trust people have in me. I am happy to be here although the feeling has not sunk in properly. Not yet!  I have really wanted this from a long time and I hope it works out well for me. Pray for me. 🙂

p.s. I have been awarded by four bloggers in the past 10 days. Sorry for the delay guys!! I will be putting it up asap! 🙂

So long people!

[all the photographs are copyrighted by me. If you wish to use them, please mail me]