You know you have landed in Delhi when...

• The last disciplined and synchronized activity you see will be the seat belts coming off before the airplane has made a complete halt and mobile phones buzzing to life before the aircraft doors have been opened.
• The sullen guy at the "pre-paid taxi" counter repeatedly mispronounces your name the way only a Haryanvi jat can.
• You see taxi drivers soliciting the "long distance sawaari" from the 20 odd passengers whose trolleys are bumper to bumper, lest someone cut the precious queue.
• When you hear more abuses laced sentences in 10 mins than you heard in the last 10 days. (this is the part when the glamour from "kabhi pyaar mein gaali deta hai" from Delhi-6 comes undone)
• You have every reason to believe the taxi driver when he narrates the grand conspiracy theory which implicates the guards who allocate taxis to passengers, the cops who book those who won't pay the guards and the drivers who pay the guards to get the more lucrative passengers.
• You can't quite decide on what is causing you greater trauma- the sound of 100 horns trying to beat each other at the game of cacophony or the sight of seemingly every other man who thinks that scratching self in public is as natural as breathing.
• You marvel in disbelief at how wide the roads are compared to the excuses Mumbai commutes on.
• You hear the punjabi on the streets, in the neighbourhood and on the radio station and realize how much you missed it.
• You see fat aunties typified by dripping diamonds and still haggling with the kabaadi for 5 bucks.
• Talking to old friends and discussing old favorites such as PVR, Big Chill and Flavors is about the only important and urgent thing in the world.
• You are home and wonder why you left.
• You read about water shortages, electricity problems, 20 rapes, some dozen robberies, water logged roads, cracks in bridges- all in the same day.
• You wonder when you'll ever truly return.

Munich Mayhem

22nd Sept 2007

We took the train from Salzburg and reached Munich in 2 hours. The small world principle was amply proved when we realized that though our hosts were strangers, we had 6 common friends- one of whom had been kind enough to put us through to P&N, when he got to know that we could not get any vacany in any hostel, courtesy Oktoberfest!

So after 10 days of staying in hostels and amongst strangers, being "home" was just sheer bliss. Hot shower. Ample space. Gracious hosts. Indian food that tasted Indian and good. Being able to leave our passports behind. I don't think I can thank P&N enough.

So well, we were in Munich and it was that time of the year. What else could we do? We headed to Marienplatz (city centre) and then to Goetheplatz.

And what a crowd!! The first weekend of the Oktoberfest is typically the busiest (we were told that the Italians come during the next week and in those days, Munich becomes little Italy). The The sight of hordes of families & friends in their traditional attire reminded me, strangely enough, of Navaratri!Felt like donning a dundl myself!

Oktoberfest used to be in the 1st week of Oct, but due to better weather, it was shifted to September. Resistance to change ensured that the name stuck.

Now the important thing about Oktoberfest is that you need to book a space in those Beer tents in advance. It costs a good amount of money. It's not something silly backpackers like us do. What we do is to rely on our good fortune and sheer impudence (or charm if you like!). We entered a tent through the staff entrance, quietly strutting our stuff, not realizing what we were doing. It was only after we were in, that we happened to look outside the main entrance and saw this huge crowd waiting to get inside...through the legitimate entrance!

Now the more important thing about Oktoberfest is that those golden litres of beer are served only to folks who have tables (I did tell you about tables needing to get booked in advance). So what this meant is that the waiters didn't spare us even a dirty glance because we did not have a table. Now observing the song and dance and drunken reverly is all very nice but being the only persons without a drink in their hands is not very nice. What will you tell your grandchildren- I went to Oktoberfest but got not a drop of beer down my throat??

G took it upon her self to salvage our fate by coyly asking a bunch of Italian guys to buy us a beer. What we got was 1 whole litre of beer!! Now this is potent stuff- not like the flimsy stuff that you have on a hot Saturday afternoon. G promptly got tully and since I hate beer, I was content with 2-3 sips.

What amazed me was how the waiters carried out about 8 glasses of beer (remember- 1 l each) in each hand!! Some seriously strong wrists, those!!

We made an exit after we got tired of looking at drunk people and inhaling smoke. Dinner, Church visit, Teddy bear museum and Starbucks followed. After that exhausting day- we spent some quality time with N watching bad TV- the panacea for long days. We watched Big Brother till about 12.30 am- I love the creators of these hilarious and badly made shows. They make a wonderful difference to our lives. No?

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Traveller's Tip #1: If you want to have some serious fun at Oktoberfest, book in advance and go with loads of friends.

Traveller's Tip #2- Gets seriously crowded. So be prepared and stay safe.

Traveller's Tip#3- Buy some pretzels and mixed nuts. Yummy. Also buy the souvenier shirts and mugs. Worth it.

Main Chali

This would only make sense if you know the old Hindi movie song "Main chali, main chali". Actually even then, it won't really :)
Me:
Main Chali
En- zee
Mujhe roke na koi
For the life changing bungee
Main chali Main chali
Evil me:
La-la-la my desi cow
Sheep mein kho na jaana tum wahan
And as you think of bungee,
Apni 'aux' ka rakhna dhyaan

I'm off for 14 days. Thanks to Flooey, I might even blog from NZ. Take care, you guys.

Scenes from Salzburg

20th/21st September 2007

Our hostel defied expectations (which incidentally were a rung above rock bottom after the Innsbruck fiasco)- it was really nicely done up- warm and cosy, with good furniture and service to match. Since we just had a day in Salzburg, we decided to make the most of it. (this sounds nice and amicable but it took an adamant G to dissuade me against the Sound of Music tour. Thank god for her adamance-or we would have spent 5 hrs with the commercial and touristy busload of old people.)
As luck would have it, we shared our room with an Austrian girl from Innsbruck, who happened to work at the same campsite (Kranebitten) that had given us the crappy caravan. And though we did not mean to- we ended up whining and giving feedback! If you go there and no longer see the dusty small caravan- you know who to thank. Yes- I'd like to believe that some people do take feedback seriously.

The morning breakfast was like a visit to the Chak de India sets- there were some sports teams staying at the hostel who'd descended to the breakfast area for their dose of energy at 7 am. It was fun seeing girls twice my size pick up 3 glasses of milk with 6 slices of cheese and a mountain of sunflower bread. The soundtrack of Chak De played in my mind as did the thought that I looked like a midget amongst giants.

We'd decided to start the day with a trip to Salzkammergut, the lake district of Salzburg, which in hindsight deserves a dedicated holiday.The 1 hour journey to St Gilgen, the lake, was beautiful-it was as though a new set of picture postcards was unravelling right in front of our eyes. Lush green valleys separated by a pristine blue. A patch of white and black in the form of cows. Nature glowing with pride under the watchful eye of the pleased sun.

The lake was more beautiful than anything I'd seen before. The kind of place where you could lose yourself and the track of time. Apparently, we did- we missed our bus back to Salzburg (it's an hourly service) and that led us to explore the place. We chanced upon a restaurant that was right in front of a chapel where a wedding celebration was on in full swing! The ambience was merry enough to be enjoyed better- with awesome ravioli and strudel. In my mind's album, these are the memories that will never come unstuck, because they get created without prior design and yet, are so perfect.

Mirabell Gardens, the next destination on our itinerary, was a beautiful park (a picture of which you also see in the header of the blog). It was charming, unhurried and just the relaxing spot you'd need on a sunny, gorgeous day. Only we had to hurry through it to reach Untersbergen on time. This was a cable car ascent to 1853m, to the summit that offered a magnificent view. We saw the snow covered Alps!!

It was here that we met this retired Canadian physician who was on a bike tour with his friends. They'd done about 1000 km and by the looks of it, had the stamina for another 1000! If ever I need to define zest, I know what to use as an example.

Spent the afternoon doing some touristy things, like buying the Mozart chocolates and doing the Salzach cruise. The hightlight of the cruise was the Mozart waltz, where they actually make the boat spin and turn to the rhythm of Mozart's music :)
In the evening, we walked through the carnival (their version of the Oktoberfest apparently!), on our way to the fortress which can reached by the cable railway. The fortress dates back to the middle ages and is currently used as a concert venue etc. We used it to soak in the magnificent view of the city. The bright lights of the carnival; the sun setting in the backdrop of the Salzach river and the old city stretching out, calling it a day.

Came back to the hostel around 9 pm and after a hot shower, went straight down to the video room where they screen The Sound of Music every night! :) I've watched the movie a hundred times, but that night in Salzburg, after the day of lakes, dales and mountains, Maria and the hills did come alive. The notes of Salzburg were pitch perfect.
Traveller's Tip #1- Free and Easy rocks. Do not fall for the tours, please! You'll waste more than the 30 odd Euros that each tour costs.

Traveller's Tip#2- Try the food at Indigo- it's right near the bus stop for the fortress and serves great fusion food with loads of veg options. The curry I had, tasted strangely Maharashtrian :P

Innsbruck Times

(Sept 19th & 20th, 2007)

And so we arrived in Innsbruck with the clean mountain air gladly filling our nostrils. Our hands and legs were glad too with the unexpected bonus of escalators and well maintained facilities.

We dutifully took public transport to our campsite- which looked beautiful. Sadly, our caravan was not. I have no clue what we did wrong-but we got the ugliest and dirtiest caravan that they had on offer. Dirtcheap could be a very apt name- what we paid and what we got.

Anyhow, we were in a mood to let it go and visit the city centre to get some grub. The food was amazing- the concept of vegetarianism was not alien to this city and I gorged on a delightful salad and mixed veg rice. A for awesome.

A very heady and convenient calculation showed me that this was yet another place where the cost of wine was equal to that of coffee and that of water :) Sigh.

We went to the Golden roof and the Haustbopf palace- basically explored the city centre, which, much to our horror, shut down at 6 pm! The town officially shuts down by 6.30 pm. I think the only establishments open were some restaurants, pubs and Mcdonalds! Since we had nothing better to do, we thought we'd surf the internet- but there were no internet cafes around! Our best bet was this pub that let us use the internet for 20 cents a minute. The surfing plans were abandoned in favor of dipping toes and scooting to a mall that showed some sign of life.

We went to a bar called Habana, that served great Chardonnay and had sufficient eye-candy for two bored girls. We rounded off our "evening out" with Apple Strudel. My tastebuds can still recall that divine creamy cinnamon. Yum.

Dirtcheap appeared even smaller by nightfall and though it was cramped for me, G and the bedbugs, we did manage to get some sleep. Actually a lot of sleep, because we woke up at 8 am! And the view outside was breathtaking!! This was right behind our caravan :) I think that's what they mean by saying 'look at the bigger picture'.

We checkout of the campsite and headed straight to the station, where we deposited our luggage and had a hot breakfast. This was the second big splurge day of the trip after the Venice mask+pendant day. We went to Swarovski Crystal world where I ended up buying a lot of what else, crystal! I think I ought to be a little more eloquent here- this was no jewellery showroom-it's more a combination of crystal theme park and a family's lasting way of showing off their wealth & expertise. I'll let the pictures talk more.

Though Innsbruck is a very popular ski destination, we went during summer, so that aspect of the town remained hidden. It's safe, clean, has great food and we really enjoyed our time there. All except this rather unfortunate time, when I got locked out at the station loo- Damn, that was scary! Is there some unstated understanding between those loo designers that no country shall have identical systems for locking/ unlocking, flushing and tap water? Also, instructions in local language don't really help when you think you will grow old in that tiny cubicle that flushes in some places, on the left or on the right, through a push or pull in others and in yet others, through a food pedal! Indian public toilets, esp at railway stations are quite simple in this respect- they stink so much, you'd never enter one so getting locked in one is quite out of the question. But coming back to the minor adventure- I did finally get rescued when I managed to turn the knob the wrong way. I got the tap all figured out in 2 secs though and made a dash to the exit in another 5, before all those Austrian aunties let out hearty laughs.

Our next stop was Salzburg which is about an hour away from Innsbruck, and deserves a separate post :)

Venezia & The Tourist

( Sept 18, 2007)

This was almost the only day during this trip, we got into the typical tourist trap- you go to Amex to casually change TC's. While waiting, you rest your gaze upon these wondrous posters on the wall that inform you of the glorious wonders that are, but a short distance away. By now, you also notice other tourists walking in and enquiring about the tour and then booking it. A quick memory check reveals that you have heard of these places before and since you don't want to miss out on going to a place worth going to, you now officially belong to the queue of tourists paying a good sum of money to be ferried to these islands.

That is how G and I came to see the sister islands of Murano, Burano and Torcello. Each of them has its speciality- Glass, Lace and Quiet Solitude, respectively. Only the last is being beautiful without being exorbitant! The mandatory tours around the islands, be it the demo on Murano glass making or a tour around the lace workshop at Burano, involve a visit to the souvenier shops. Word of advice- please do not buy here unless you have noble objective that is not rational. Do take a lot of pictures- the colorful houses make for very nice subjects. Burano is also famous for its cookies-Again, not very cheap, but good enough.

I did buy a couple of Murano glass pendants but those were from Venice itself- expensive but so darn pretty. Hold it up against the light and you'll see beautiful patterns doing a joy dance. I guess my rational side decides to make an appearance only for things that I don't really care about- lace table mats being one.

This day was also marked by barely tolerable food. Really, for the number of tourist that throng Venice, you'd think this would be the food capital of Italy- but nothing could be further from the truth. To compensate for the lack of quality food, we turned to the other essential- Drink! Had Bellini in our little caravan, packed and then braved the breezy cold with Hindi songs and a walk around the campsite. And thus ended our stay in Venice.

The journey from Venice to Innsbruck wasn't as straightforward as we'd expected. Bus from campsite to Mestre (the main train station) and then a train to Verona. And then a train from Verona to Innsbruck. But well worth it!
Innsbruck was a treat for sore senses- clean, safe and with a view of the Alps as you get out of the station :) More on that in the next post.

Gondola city : Venezia

(Sept 17th 2007)

For Venice, we'd decided to go off the beaten track and had booked ourselves in a camp (Alba D' Oro)- that this was the cheapest option available, just made the decision easier. At 19 euros per person, an ensuite camp caravan wasn't a bad deal at all! Trust me, sleeping in a room with only one other person (as opposed to the 6-8 in a dorm room) was a welcome change and the sound sleep that we enjoyed was replendent proof.

The camp was about 20 mins away from the main city and the camp runs shuttle buses on the hour. As with most tourist cities, they offered a wide range of passes and cards based on your interest. We bought the Orange card, but that that turned out to be a huge waste of 22.90 Euros as we were hardly in the mood for museums and churches, having nearly exhausted our cultural cravings in Paris and Rome.

We started with San Marco Square (for those of you who'd had the 'fortune' of watching Bachna Ae Haseeno, this is the square where "Khuda Jaane" was shot- and now if you'll stop imagining Ranbir with his arms outstretched, we can move ahead) and then taking pity on our Orange card, went to the Doge museum.

Now the Doge was no ruler- rather a nominal head of Venice. Now, we are Indians and we know our president. So we understand what a nominal head means, yeah? So the Doge museum was some sort of a presidential palace and now it houses artefacts and the likes. In the era gone by, Venice enjoyed the reputation of being a busy trading and merchant port and the lion, its official mascot, represented Venetian dominance over land and sea. The lion also served to underline the differences between Venice and the Roman Church.

Although charming, the Doge museum didn't really hold our interest. What was infinitely more interesting was walking around Venice's ever-fascinating and sometimes-stinking walkways, crossing canals and hearing the gondoliers sing to (and fleece) romance-stricken tourists. Here's a video of the gondoliers.

The thumbs down factors were (a) the terribly over-priced and less than delicious food and (b) the crowds. Now, coming from an Indian that might sound slightly weird, but you do feel the magical ambience wearing down a bit when you see more tourists than locals. Also, more hands with maps and more fingers on the flash buttons mean more mouths to be fed and more wallets to be lightened. Really missed the great, cheap food of Rome!

Venice was also the first European destination to leave me lighter by several hundred Euros-I bought a few Murano glass pendants (hold it up to the light and you'll see colorful patterns dancing in front of you :) and.... a Venetian mask, which could easily be the most expensive piece of home decoration that I've bought or plan to buy in the near future. And here it is, my gorgeous Venetian mask, in rose and gold (esp for you Goofy Mumma!). It currently occupies the place of pride in my living room. Though I've realized that it does take some taste to appreciate something as exquisite. I was rather annoyed when a well meaning colleague asked me" tumhe isse raat ko darr nahi lagta" but then chuckled to myself realizing it would be quite funny if I-the scaredy cat, were to ever get up at night and see a gold face with hollow eyes staring back.

And since I've already declared my inability to stop at a single item of purchase, I also bought a charcoal painting- which the artist created from scratch, in a matter of minutes and exclusively for me! Here's the picture of the painting and also a small video of Marco skilfully converting a few strokes of charcoal into a Venetian landscape.

This Venetian extravagance also meant that I and G skipped the gondola ride- At 80 euros a ride, we figured we'd save it for a more romantic episode in our lives. All said and done, Venice did turn out to be quite a romantic place- nowhere else, did I miss M as much or as often. Little wonder then, that a lot of people tend to make this a honeymoon destination. (Crowds are the root cause of all evil-refer point (b) above).

The great wine that accompanied dinner, compensated for the mediocre food and we ended the day, singing peppy Hindi film songs while walking to our ferry- we got a few stares and someone even commented on our happy state of being. Though embarassed for a moment, we quickly raised our faces and decibel levels and carried on singing.
The wine and song induced happy daze cleared up rather quickly when we realized that we'd missed our shuttle bus. We ended up taking public transport all the way to the airport and from there to the camp, thereby spending about 1.5 hrs to complete a journey of 20 mins. Another minor tragedy awaited us back at the camp- in our morning hurry to catch the bus, we'd left the caravan window open. It had rained during the day and the casualty of the downpour was my unfortunately located bed. Since I was too tired to protest and it was meaningless to sulk (M wasn't around to pamper), I just pretended it was a second class railway berth and crashed.

Traveller's Tip#1- Please buy your day card with care- we ended up wasting our money!

Traveller's Tip#2- Bargain with the gondoliers. Everybody does it. For a reason.

Traveller's Tip#3- Shop at the stores located at some distance from the main tourist spots. Even a distance of 200 m can save you 2-10 euros, depending on what you buy.

Roma-15th Sept07

This could very well be a post on the Colosseum- it pretty much captured our imagination and time.

The magnificent structure was built in 72 AD-Nero, Octavian and Dalmatian all played their role in its construction and eventual use. It is likely that you are a pre-historic fossil or that were born on Mars and hence haven't had the chance to watch The Gladiator , if you don't know that games of gladiators and beasts were held at the Colosseum. For 400 long years.

The structure was built with limestone, bricks, volcanic rock and marble in an intricate but highly evolved fashion- for instance, there were underground rooms that stored weapons, equipment and housed the animals in cages- the animals were later brought to the arena through a pulley system.

The seating in this torture theatre was strictly as per social class and profession- closest to the arena were the Editor and the senators, then came the priests, followed by professionals such as teachers. Plebians were to plonk themselves in the upper sections.

Cruelty kept a schedule. In the morning, beasts such as hippos and lions were tortured to death. Afternoons were reserved for the duels between gladiators and beasts. The duels were proceeded by a gladitorial procession which began from the Arch of Constantine ( if the name sounds familiar, it's because he was the founder of Constantinople and also the emperor who stopped the persecution of Christians and who converted to Catholicism). In the event, a gladiator could ask the Editor (usually the emperor) for pardon. As a glorious example of letting populism guide decision making, the Editor would then look to the crowd. Mass sentiment controlled life and death.

The church put an end to the savage and brutal games in 523 AD, after which the Colosseum became nothing more than a source of building material for the Romans-this is the reason why one wing of the Colloseum is almost gone. The pillaging stopped only after the church started using the amphitheatre for religious purposes.

Walking through those ancient corridors, listening to the commentary of the audio guide and conjuring up those images in front of me- I felt I was reliving the scenes from my favorite movie (no points for guessing!). After a while, my imagination resorted to pleas of mercy , but the sun was relentless- we literally baked in an open oven and finally when brain threatened to turn into gooey mass, we made way to the Roman forum.

It was something else. Oh, to take in the same view that 2700 years ago, was the most magnificent view for the Romans. Scenes of ordinary life and commerce played out here. History was created here. Hell, Ceaser walked along the same path. The path that was paved with betrayal and death. History lessons came alive in the midst of the famous Roman ruins.

Again, had the weather been kinder, we'd have lingered on but since we didnt want to turn into historic shrivels ourselves, we kept moving. (in retrospect, a very wise decision as the series "Rome" recreated history better than us, and in a manner that could be enjoyed in the comfort of our air-conditioned room!)

The evening was spent visiting the Pantheon, which was earlier a pagan temple and ironically, is now a church!; the tomb of the unknown soldier; Giolitti for gelato and finally the Trevi Fountain- a beautiful and majestic, (what else but a) fountain. A very cash rich fountain at that, for tourist after tourist pops in coins-this ritual is supposed to get you back to Rome one day. Yes, the stingy desis (G and I) also rummaged through the bags and found the coins of the smallest denomination to throw, in the hope of return.

We are hoping the legend does come true. Since we parted with only petty coins, I won't be surprised if we have to make the trip back on a budget airline!

Traveller's tip #1-Take the train to Colloseo- MRT station is right outside the building.

Traveller's tip#2- Be very careful of your bags etc especially in & around tourist spots and trains- we were witness to a pickpocketing scene that happened before we could blink and register what was happening. What made it worse was that it was done by a band of gypsy girls who were pretending to be pregnant. I recommend sling bags or a waist pouch!

Traveller's tip#3- Right opposite the Pantheon is a souvenir shop, run by an old couple. You'll find really nice postcards and knick knacks there. I don't remember the name of the shop but look for the adorable senior citizens- you won't go wrong!

Traveller's tip #4- If you can make this the first day of your itinerary, you'd really allow the eternal city to make its best and everlasting impression on you! That's the only thing we'd have done differently.

Traveller's tip #5- Audio guide for Colloseum is a must!

Traveller's Tip #6- Carry sunglasses, enough bottled water and some asprin. The sun can be harsher than you think and beverages around Colloseum, more expensive that you'd care to find out.

Roma-14th Sept 07- Part 2

From the Basilica we moved on to the Vatican Museum, the highlight of the day- The only cribworthy factor was the linear progression scheme which meant that we had to spend time in the boring sections of modern religious art, in order to get to the Sistine Chapel.

In those days, most Art was commissioned by the church and was used to depict scenes of significance from the Bible, to impart lessons in divinity and the power of Jesus. Once such work of art that was entrusted to Michelangelo in the 16th Century was the decoration for the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. And from an uninspiring brief, (Decoration for the Pope's residence) and a reluctant artist (who really thought he worked his best as a sculptor) emerged this famous fresco- which means that it was painted while the plaster was still fresh, so that the paint got integrated into the wall. And this was no ordinary side wall either- but the ceiling itself, thereby making this complex process even tougher.

Standing at the centre of the room, staring at the vast canvas above you, you just can't help saluting Michelangelo and his phenomenal brain- For someone to have conceptualized and executed this fresco with no modern aids at his disposal is simply astounding. (He even created the scaffolding on which he stood and made this fresco!)

The popularity of the Sistine Chapel and it's famed ceiling also meant that we got limited gawking time. So by early afternoon, we beat an unwilling retreat to the hostel.

The quiet afternoon was spent doing groceries and cooking-buying veggies was actually the most eventful activity of the afternoon- G got ticked off at a wet market, when trying to buy tomatoes. We just thought the fat bald stall owner was being rude & racist by not letting us touch the tomatoes (!) -but then when I faced the same ticking off in a supermarket, it occured to me that there was something bigger at play here than the color card. The helper at the supermarket lived upto her job designation- she helped by directing me to the plastic gloves and it's only then that I realized that in Rome, you need to put on a plastic glove before touching fresh produce! Since we were in Rome, we did what Romans do- wore gloves and bought Pomodoro for pasta :)

Food and nap later, we walked to Piazza del Popolo, where we met a couple of G's friends, who took us to this authentic Italian restaurant. We had starters (veggie in tempura style and best mozarella cheese I've had so far) and good pasta. The real dish, though, turned out to be the owner of the restaurant!! But alas- the looker's girlfriend exuded too much hotness and the dish never made it to our table.

A post dinner walk to the Spanish Steps followed. The nice and festive atmosphere seemed so much like India-something that you'd see on a summer evening at India Gate, perhaps. We drove around and then went to Old Bridge Gelateria, which I was assured, serves the best Gelato in town. And i'd have to agree- the Bacio & Chocolate Gelato was yummy. So yeah, the day ended with good food and drink and with the promise of the Colloseum and the Roman Forum the next day. Slept giddy happy.

Rome-14th Sept 07- Part 1

The Day started with Basilica Di San Pietro- the world's largest church. Grand and opulent. The power and the wealth of the church left me awe-struck, but frankly, I felt it lacked the spiritual intimacy of St. Chapel or Notre Dame. The grandeur just felt...distracting.
For me religion amounts to a matter of personal faith and belief systems. I don't really think the architecture of the place of worship is going to play a tremendous role in how or how well I exercise my faith. And no-this isn't about churches. I'd say the same thing for big temples or huge mosques- the smaller and the more sparsely done up places just seem more inviting. I'd any day, choose a small corner temple over a thoroughly decked up temple with loudspeakers and light; the low key satya-narayan puja at home over a noisy display of devotion at a "jaagran"; or even a visit to local church on anyday except Sunday! I have nothing against a place being popular & crowded-The Lotus Temple in Delhi and the Golden Temple at Amritsar they do emit that precious feeling of tranquility,inspite of being on the tourist map.) I'm just against the pomp and show, the in-your-face demonstration of faith and the hyper activity of commercialization that grand places of worship tend to encourage, directly or indirectly. In some cases, scale is an advantage- in this case, it just distorts and distracts- the same way that a beautiful melody turns into an irritant if played at too loud a volume.

The other thing that made me frown was this prominent sign that informed visitors of the earlier held notion, that the Pope was answerable to no one except God. That didnt go down well with me. At the very least, each individual is accountable first to his or her own self- his/her conscience, his/her sense of right & wrong and then to others, who have played a role in shaping those thoughts and actions or bear the consequences of those thoughts/actions. Human beings are just congenitally imperfect and error prone. With time, rigour and experience, one can train to be of six-sigma quality, that too on a particular skill or task, but there's only so far that you can go. "Tends to" perfection can never equal flawless.
And I guess that's a lesson I'm learning in my life as well- I've always put up certain people on a pedestal-to me, they represent the sum total of all aspirational qualities with the benefit of experience and good judgement. Now that's a silly and a rather impractical expectation to begin with and needless to say, even a minor slip or lapse on their part had the potential to make me lose heart, feel disappointed and even, cheated. It's only off late that I've come to realize that they are not infallible-only as human and a little less error prone than me. So I expect and judge a little less and allow for more room to breathe.
So no matter how old or how revered, let humans be humans- with accountability- just don't expect them to live upto an impossibly exalted ideal.
To be continued...........................................
Bear with me...I know this hardly sounds like a merry travelogue but then it's no longer the singular heady rush of the travel memoirs-the experiences of the year that's passed between the trip and now, have also crept in. Uninvited but not unwelcome :)

Roma-13th Sept 2007

FIFO. (For those who've been lying in the dungeons of acronym land-First In, First Out)

Am applying this to restore order and to finally finish what I started last year- My Europe travel diary. Other interesting and life altering events have since, taken place but knowing that my memory is only marginally better than Dory, I will keep that narration for later.

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And so, G and I headed to the eternal city of Rome. The train journey was pretty uneventful-of course, there was the unkempt artist who sneaked in a portrait of G and the cheeky steward who spared me a knife and fork and also a kiss on my hand- but then this was Europe and we had heard enough about the Italian penchant for flamboyance. Any gents attempting this in a train in India would have said hello to my heels.

The start was less than perfect- after a 3 hour delay, I realized my body clock had gone cuckoo at the wrong time and to add to the misery, we lost our way- we spent about 15 mins walking in the wrong direction! A heavy bag and cramps can really alter your perception of time and space!!

Help came in the form of two charming Italian guys who directed us to Via Boezio- where stood our abode for the next 3 days.

Colors hostel (http://www.colorshotel.com/) lives upto its name and reputation- It was bright, cheery and well, colorful. The rooms are huge and airy; the bath/toilets-clean and very well maintained. I might sound a little senile raving about hygeine factors but trust me, the privacy of an attached loo and bath was a welcome change after the very tiny and very open Paris bathroom.

G did the groceries and whipped us a delicious salad and pasta. (Colors has a well stocked kitchen and a lovely dining area). That was followed by a walk to Castle St. Angelo, a rather dilapidated building which is now a museum and then along the Tiber.

The phenomenon of generosity from absolute strangers was to become a common theme for this trip-the Bangladeshi porter who refused to charge us for the internet joined the Generous strangers club. He also plied us with his own story and other sordid tales of Italy. He described Italy as a the dustbin of Europe!- something which shocked us when he said it, but gradually struck us a near-truth- the place is full of grafitti, pick pocketing and corruption (there are touts outside the Vatican Museum who let you cut the queue for 40 euros when the standard admission fees is 13 euros). The first impression led me to despair- was this another country ready to neglect everything in the present and content in resting on past laurels? Though not ready to write off Rome- admittedly, my first impression of Rome wasn't all that great. The place seemed to have neither the charm of Paris nor the dynamism of London....And then, we had Italian food and all the above was promptly forgiven and forgotten.

This was G's day-News about the Pasricha Index (http://www.financialexpress.com/news/How-financially-open-is-India/216177/0) travelled far and wide and gave us a superb reason to celebrate. We went to a nearby restaurant and enjoyed a marvellous dinner- Pizza, white wine and Tiramisu. Both the pizza and the dessert were top-notch, melt-in-the-mouth fare. I must rave about the pizza- it had just the right flavors, a divinely thin crust and enough and more veggies to keep me happy-in short, it was, what pizza should aspire to be-definitely not the overdone mass of cheese, maida and ketchup that usual pizza companies serve their sorry customers.

Mood was sufficiently uplifted by the dinner and yes, the wine also played a role. The after-dinner course was an hour of peppy Hindi numbers (baadal pe paon hain etc..), before finally hitting the sack at 1 am.

The Roman holiday had begun.

Hello Vice-How Nice (Last Day in Paris-12th Sept)

The last day in the French capital served us some measures of vice and some of virtue-won't really call them equal but well, it was a fairly palatable mix.

Of Sloth & slumber

Because we had the laziest start to a day

Of Sleepless charity

Because I spent a near sleepless night, sneezing but smothering most of my sneezes for fear that I might wake up the other 5 people in the room.

Of Expensive Expression of love

Because we sent postcards to our nears & dears (& later, discovered that we had reached home before they did!)

Of Spectacular views & God's glory

Because we preferred the view of the mortal kingdom (Paris from Sacre Coeur hill top) than the gateway to the heavenly one (the Basilica of the Sacred Heart)

Of gluttony and greed

Because I consumed in excess- the 3 C's I love- coffee, crepe & caramel custard.

Of lust on sale

Because we took the train around Montmartre and went through Pigalle- the red light district of Paris and because I found the openness of the "business" conduct shocking.

Of the prudish image in the mirror

Because I found myself wondering how I'd react to Amsterdam if and when I visit.

Of kindness & kinship

Because the Indian guy who asked us our nationality was not making a pass at us, but rather trying to warn us because his bag got stolen in a bus and he didn't want us meeting a similar fate.

Of moving on , yet not moving away

Because though I left Bercy, Paris in the fall of 2007-I know this is not the last we've seen of each other.

Au Revoir, Paris- Phir Milenge.

11th Sept-Two Guys, Two Girls & a Shorwa place

Summing up the last evening in Paris is like recounting all the adjectives & descriptive words/phrases I know. Admittedly the vocabulary is limited, but well, the emotions are not. So here goes.

Confused were we, with the food choices we had in Latin Quarter-quaint eateries, pricey fine-dines, cheery cafes and just so many Greek/Medit. restaurants!

Generous was the owner of Mason Gyros ( a shorwa place near the Tunisian sweet shop). He was a Sri Lankan and when he found out that we were Indians, he gave us free juice! That single act of generosity was so unexpected for us that we kept staring back in disbelief-It was just so nice to have someone be nice to you for no reason. I wasnt really planning to order anything, but then after this, just felt compelled to order something!

Delicious was the sandwich which the Generous Owner made for me. Since there was nothing veg on the menu-I asked him for the regular pita sandwich without the chicken. But then true to his name (strictly on this blog), he loaded it with feta cheese, corn and olives, besides the usual lettuce etc and then went ahead and charged me a full euro less than the actual price.

Annoyed was I, at being asked by 2 men (estimated age: early 30's or maybe late, really late 20's) whether they could occupy the table next to ours. A good deal of my annoyance came from the reluctance to relocate my bag, which at that time was sitting bang in the middle of the coveted table.

Persuasive was G- who was probably just sick of my company by that time to readily welcome some nice looking strangers. Also she was more more accepting of their logic-the only free table was next to the shorwa grill and sitting there was like happily stepping into an oven.

Thankful was I- coz if it hadn't been for G, we wont have got to meet Sofiane and Amine, the 2 friendly Algerians, who'd been staying in France since 5 years or so. Conversation started with Sofiane trying to guess my nationality- he thought I was Mediterranean! And for some strange reason, I seemed to like the fact that the brown skin and the curly locks could be attributed to another region, another culture and I dont really know why that felt liberating. Just did. In a similar way, getting to know that "Sumeida" meant brave in their language, made me feel braver & more warrior like than usual.

Quasi-Indians they turned out to be! They told us that they watched Hindi movies every Friday-sometimes the same movie every Friday! They shared anecdotes on how more and more Algerian women are wearing saris for their weddings, about how their moms cried during Hindi movies and how they feel intrinsically, the two societies were similar.

Lit up were their faces when I sang out the song that they referred to as "Jaane Tu" (tera mujhse hai pehle ka naata koi...). If you'd told me a year back that I'd be sitting in Paris with 2 Algerian men singing a song from a Mithun movie, I'd have laughed my guts out. Acutally I did laugh my guts out at the way those two sang away "jaane tu ya jaane na" without a clue on what it meant :) Singing forgotten Hindi songs in foreign land with absolute strangers possibly has the same uplifting effect as having karhi-chawal in foreign land.Try it.

Intense was our discussion about Algeria and the politics of that country, about Islam and how some customs just dont make sense any more (e.g. how men are not supposed to look at their brother's wife); about Hinduism and how India is so diverse; about Paris and how living in Paris could be-it's home but the sense of alienation does creep in every now and then; about their professions (Pharmacist/Biologist) and how they encounter a fair bit of racism even in their professional lives.

Gallant were they to offer to walk us to Berthilion for ice-cream and extremely suspicious was I, for even after spending about 2 hours talking to them, my defensive instincts (honed to perfection on DTC buses & sales routes) told me that strange land, strange people & late evening do not a happy prospect make. But then as the story goes...Persuasive was G and Thankful was I :)

Happy coincidence was a shut Berthilion which forced us to walk more and discover a delightful Gelato parlour which even shaped the ice-cream (sorry, gelato!) as a rose. Awesome treat for the senses.

Hilarious was Sofiane's English when he gloriously announced in the Gelato place, "I would like to invite you all". The serpent of suspicion was just about to hiss in my ear (what?? invite us to his place? invite us where? huh? huh?), when better sense prevailed and we asked him what he meant. Apparently, all he wanted to do was to treat us to ice-cream! Funny how even intentions get lost in translation.

Charming was learning how to pronouce Champs Elysees correctly and teaching them a few Hindi words like "phir milenge" , "chalo" and "achcha" in return.

Conclusive was the evidence that men will be men, always- silly putty, at most times and just so hopelessly illogical, at the others!- You'd have chuckled knowingly if you'd seen Sofiane express with his hands how "Hot" he thought Aish was. You'd have also stared incredulously if you'd heard Amine pronounce his dictum on "more children are good" and how he wanted 6 children of his own. But then if you'd have been there, you would have also sensed their warmth and goodness, their strong desire to set the record straight for their community and their daily struggle against prejudice and stereotypes.

But well. you weren't there. A good thing too-because "Two Guys, Two Girls and a whole lot of others at a shorwa place" wouldn't sound half as good. But then, you do know now, which song to sing to an Algerian to break the ice, dont you? :) Jaane tu....ya jaane na?

11th Sept- Paris-Of Notre Dame n Latin Quarter

The morning emerged with the relentless question-"Do Romanians not like taking a shower?" In the 3 days that we'd been at our hostel room, not once had I actually seen them head towards the shower-combine that with the assault on the sense of smell and the answer seemed astonishingly simple. The solution was not-we just sprayed some perfume in the air and got on with the explorer's life.

The day was to be devoted to Notre Dame and then the Latin Quarter-the original "cool" place.
Taking the audio guide at ND chapel was such a waste-all the information is available in English and it was one place where the guide was a bit of a distraction rather than an invaluable aid.

The tour up the tower though, is highly recommended. The cost of the uber scenic view of Paris is 400 steps or thereabouts-not ready currency with the faint hearted! What was really persuasive to my 26 yr old legs was the sight of people 3 times my age mocking my stamina and marching on-Such josh machines, those oldies!

Got to discover loads of fun facts-e.g. all religious bells are baptized-thought it was a rather sweet tradition. Naming inanimate things just makes it better, yes? 'Met' Emmanuel: the largest bell of 'em all- it was earlier rung by bell ringers, but is now set in motion by the electric motor, that too on major occasions only.

Awesome crepes and gelato later, we walked towards the Pantheon (the fake French version-we did see the real thing in Rome). It was completed in 1789 and remained a church only for 2 yrs-post which it was seized by the Revolutionaries. Now these Revolutionaries-they were anti-Catholics and because they were proponents of an extreme ideology-they did take things to the extreme. Burnt bodies of saints; converted churches into civil offices; even beheaded the gods on the facade of the Pantheon! (many of the heads are now either in the Middle ages museum/Musee de Cluny). Today's Pantheon serves as the final resting place for some great and glorious people (Mdm Curie's buried there!) and well, you have to be really great and really French to find a berth with the other exalted ones. Pity not too many are making the cut these days-dont make 'em like they used to!

Janine was our Latin Quarter Walk guide-the tour's absolutely worth it at 12 euros-nuggets of trivia, exploring the place by foot, lovely weather-all added up rather well.Highlights of the Latin Quarter walk:

- The first and the most prestigious high school in France.
- The Chapelle next door (no its not called that-just dont remember its name, but do remember where its located)-famous for two reasons-a) its the only church with the stone rudeway left (a structure that divides the worshippers and the priests) and b) it stores a Saint's finger-the only part which somehow escaped the rowdy revolutionaries who burnt her body and threw it in the river. Such idiots!

-Mitterand's house: no. 22, if you please: he lived in a narrow gully!

- Oldest church in Paris (11th century i think)

- Oldest tree in Paris (1602)

- Shakespeare & Co-the English book store started by an Englishman called Mr. Beech, who also rented out the rooms above to aspiring writers- this was a regular Hemingway haunt.

- Place St. Michel

- the fruits and veg market (operates on 4 days of the week-Tue, Thurs, Sat, Sun)-not so much of an 'attraction' for the desis-but well, everything in Paris gets a coat of mystique and finesse-even a subzi mandi.

- Lots of eateries: Greek, Mid-Eastern, Indian and yeah...a bit of French and Italian too.

- The original jazz place: served as a hiding place for Free Masons!

- Sorbonne University, which actually started as a theological school-but surprise, surprise-it changed its positioning after the Revolution. Smart thing, that.

- Luxembourg Gardens: Beautiful and majestic-overlooking the Senate. The lady (hehe..forgot her name too) who ordered the construction, never really got to stay here-her son sent her on an exile to Germany! No respect, I tell you!

Two bits of trivia which I feel compelled to share:

-Most avenues in the Latin Quarter are named thus: Rue de "____"- the blank is filled by a profession, coz this is how the residences were organized and recognized...so there was one avenue for scribes (people had to go to them for all things to do with the written word- illiteracy was rampant), another for butchers and so on. I found this quite fascinating- using profession as a variable of organizing society isn't just one Ancient Indian whim then! Silliness is pervasive and as ancient as society itself. How gratifying.

- Notre Dame was cleaned in 2000, with lasers! and as proof of how dirty it had become, they've left the middle tower out-so the poor, not-so-little-thing stands tall and ashamed, showing the visitors the surrounding soot-less towers, silently begging to be revealed for what it really is.

To be continued.....(the evening was the most memorable one in Paris, and perhaps in the entire trip-just have to give it the privilege of undivided blogspace-sure G would agree.)

ps- if any of the facts stated above are found to be wrong, you know who to blame- Janine, of course! :)

Sept 10th- Paris- Utterly Loverly Louvre

The day started relatively late (8:30 am), but the silver lining was the unhurried and exclusive use of the shower and a leisurely breakfast. Having spent a wonderful & no-harm-done day in Paris, we deemed it proper to dole out some tips to newbies (e.g. what bus number to take to the Eiffel Tower etc.). Very satisfying was that! And very smug were we!

We took the Metro to the Musee du Louvre. (While reading the news today about the metro strikes in Paris protesting Sarkozy's "main azaad hoon" type war cries against the welfare state's stubborn deficit inducing ways- I only wanted to thank our stars, for having made the trip when we did- Dunno what poor backpackers would be doing on Oct 18th!)

Anyway getting back to the Louvre-ignore the hideous monstrosity of the glass pyramid and soak in all the other sights-the fountain, the old medieval fortress look (it actually was one) and the yuppies doing the Da Vinci Code tour. Take it all in and brace your feet for the long haul and your brain for extra comprehension and absorption power!

You'd need about two days to do this museum justice-and I know two days in a museum can sound dauting-so here's the deal- devote to it one solid day-non-negotiable!! It has 8 sections- Sculptures, French paintings, Oriental Arts, Egyptian, Arts of Islam, Middle Ages paintings, Napolean Chambers (Objects D'Art), Decorative Arts & Paintings and trust me-even 12 hours may seem too short.

We did the paintings section first-populist tendencies overtook better judgement-didnt want to "miss" the Monalisa! And this is not my cynical self that speaketh- Found it a bit over-rated- Maybe it was the crowd of people & cameras that I had to negotiate with to get one look at that mythical smile or maybe it was because I've seen so many good and not-so-good copies of that image-it has perhaps lost that allure. If you'd seen the empty rooms in the previous section and the mass assembled in Mona-Lisa room, you'd be forgiven for thinking poor Leonardo never put brush to canvas, save for the lady's portrait!

The real surprise in that room was "The Wedding at Casa" (portrays the scene of the feast where Jesus turned water into wine)- It was such a beautiful & vast painting and oh, with a really comprehensive explanation carried in the audio guide-I probably stood there for 15 mins, gawking! Again, the audio guide is an imperative-most of what's written in the museum is in French and there's a good chance you'll be breezing past masterpieces if you dont have the audio guide. Not a stickler for looking at at every square inch from all dimensions, but then having travelled that far-it'd be a shame to deny your brain even that eensy-weensy bit of perspective on what your eyes transmit as a fuzzy flower in yellow.

Nett-dont miss it the Paintings section (arguably, the Middle Ages section is missable- they didnt call 'em the Dark Ages for nothing, duh!) Mesopotamian is a great treat and it did get me into a philosophical mode (what with people routinely dying in Iraq everyday and the general sense of chaos this country has come to portray)-what is it with great empires and not being able to sustain their power and might-Romans conquered that region and then decadently voted themselves out of the race. I really do wish to be born again after 500 years with the same consciousness to see whether the US, Germany and Japan really retain their power or does Trinidad & Tobago edge them out for the Top Job, somehow!

Dont miss the Sculptures-esp the few Greek ones-extremely rare! See on display "Venus Di Milo"- now the sweet part is-no one knows whether its Venus or some other goddess but well, some Roman decided it was Venus and therefore, Venus is what the world calls her.

The Romans really did a darn good job at copying all that was Greek and Great and then creating their own borrowed versions of greatness. And you see it in the sculptures around you. While you grudgingly grant the Romans their due, also bless the French archaeologists who are responsible for getting a lot of these artefacts together from Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Turkey and Italy.
Another thought that lingered in my mind was how fashion and trends come a full circle and how similar people living generations & continents apart could be! A lot of the jewellery and art on display from the Pompeii ruins or the Eqyptian pyramids is so contemporary-on more than one occasion I caught myself thinking-hey, I or my friends could wear this stuff!! (no sarcasm here, I swear and no criminal intent, either!). The same fuzzy we-are-one-always-have-been feeling emerged again when I looked at the Egyptian beauty products display! :D

The Guided Tour of the Louvre was well worth it (might have been better if we'd managed to catch the morning tour-seeing all the highlights and then doing the sections that seemed really interesting would have been simpler-but oh, well!). Our Guide was very well informed and gave us lots of stories on the different sections and the major highlights of the museum-her accent also kept me well entertained-Her "H" was silent and I really did find it amusing when she said something like-"Dis 'orse 'eez verrry good".

On our way back from the Louvre, we went to the Garden of Tiles again (doesnt sound half as pretty as when you say Jardin de Tuileries, na?). Watched the evening sun blot its colors all over the sky. I did think the sky was really pretty in Paris but a long debate with G made me think, maybe it was just coz I never bothered to look up when I went about my daily existence in Sing/India!

After our Heat and Eat dinner at the hostel, we decided to walk a bit around Montmartre-the charming district we were staying in- as was expected, we lost our way but discovered some small winding streets with quaint shops. And we caught a glimpse of the lit Eiffel Tower.

The icing on the cake was the free internet hours the French (& by now friendly) receptionist gifted us, along with the advice to avoid Sacre Coeur at night-Free internet, lovely French music in the background and smile on our faces-what else did we need-umm, a keyboard with the keys in the right places would have helped!! Demanding, demanding!

Traveller's Tip#1-Do take the audio guide-at 5 euros, it's a steal and an absolute must if you are to make any sense of what's inside the Louvre. Also taking the morning guided tour makes more sense.

Traveller's Tip#2- Keep some time for lunch-the terrace cafe is supposed to be good but has a long waiting line-we had to make do with a cold and expensive salad just to be on time for the guided tour.

Traveller's Tip#3- Avoid Sacre Coeur at night-if you insist on going there to catch a view of the Eiffel Tower-carry minimal cash & be safe!

An evening in Paris-9th Sept

Glorious sunset. Laced the wannabe Paris Eye (just a wheel really) with its battery of reluctant-to-leave rays and turned it into a magnificent work of art.

The beautiful sky. Draped in hues of orange and pink. The kind that makes you do a 360 degrees marvelling at nature.

Champs Elysees. Stealing some and getting the ground its fair share of glamour, light and color. The sprawling n sparkling avenue is called the most beautiful avenue in the world and according to us, it surely lived upto its reputation.

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and what our eyes showed us were dazzling lights, places that define fine-dine, shopping arcades that spell class, perfumeries & chocolateurs luxuriously humouring fabulously dressed people (and here, my eyes obviously wasted not a second on people who came anywhere close to looking like punks with pink hair & pierced bodies...like aunties who combined saris with sports shoes...like scruffy smelly strangers...you get the picture right? Essentially other ordinary plebians. Needless to add, mirrors and reflections were duly avoided to prevent self from cringing).

I think I saw all the brands I thought I knew and more, which simply deserved to be known coz they were on Champs Elysees. (Note: not to be confused with Champs On Lease, the galli just behind New Rambo Gym that produces (third) world class wrestlers!- the correct pronunciation for the lovely avenue, if written in German style English (where each letter written was in dire need of intonation), would be- Schaunz Eleez) Of course you'd still sound silly saying it without a natural or cultivated French accent. Think the easiest way to not offend someone French would be to say "oh..we went to the most beautiful avenue in the world"-they would understand and also be more likely to be amenable to your lowly existence :)

Arc de Triomphe was spectacular as well and thanks to the misadventure with the bus (we waited for over 40 minutes for the bus back to our hostel, only to realize that buses stop operating after 9 on weekends) & my stubborn hostility towards the Metro (just had this image of it being a shady and unsafe place to be at night-not true, btw), we got to see the Eiffel Tower at night-all lit up, resplendent and awe-inspiring. There's even a brief period when the lights flicker and you feel there are 1000 people celebrating Diwali on the Tower -the Sparkler effect is really something else.

I think G was really on the verge of losing it because I was steadily veering in the direction of "lets take a cab and just get to the hostel" (which obviously was a violation of the "if-you-are-on-a-budget-trip-act-like-you-are-on-one rule"). A local couple came to her rescue and they seemed earnest and reliable enough for me to pay heed to their advice to just take the Metro. We did and reached the hostel in 15 mins :)

The comedy of errors that followed looked something like this. G & S go to the kitchen (same place where we had breakfast) to heat dinner and realize that the door was locked. So they trudge up the stairs and tell the French receptionist that they need help since the door was locked. He says-no it isnt locked-just give it a gentle push-it should open. G & S run down the stairs and use all might to give the damn door not so gentle pushes and shoves and continue to do so until they become scared that they might be accused of breaking down the door and made to pay. Thankful that no one was paying particular attention to this drama, they run up to the lobby again-and since both G & S pride themselves on being mega intelligent souls, they decide there must be another way to the kitchen, so they go down the other way, but lo and behold that door is sealed-it might have opened to the street, once upon a time-you could tell. But it is not the door to the kitchen, that too, you could tell. So after completing a virtuous circle that only serves to make the tummies rumble louder, G&S decide to approach the receptionist again. The receptionist looks at them quizzically and decides he needs to intervene. 4 confident steps later, he shows G&S the "kitchen" which they had passed some 20 times in their hunt.

Hurt, but still defiant, S asks what he meant by pushing the door a little harder, since the door was already open. At this, the receptionist calmly points to the microwave!! (he thought we couldnt open the microwave??!!) G, S and the receptionist look at each other and burst out laughing. We murmur "Merci boku" (thank you very much)-though "moorkh bewakoof" would apply better to all the participants in this drama.

The evening ended with a desi delight-kadhi chawal! Long Live Kohinoor and its makers. Bless them-for what could give greater joy to the soul than yummy kadhi chawal enjoyed on the steps of Montmartre-the slight chill in the air making us savour each hot bite a little more. Yeah, we were in love with Paris. But the Dil remained firmly Hindustani :)

Traveller's Tip #1-When strolling down the Champs Elysees, keep an eye open for street vendors-they end up selling 3 eiffel tower keychains for 1 euro! Good gifts for sundry junta :P

Traveller's Tip #2- Be mindful of time schedule differences for buses, between weekends and weekdays. And it is safe to take a metro around 10-11 pm (I see G smirking)

Traveller's Tip #3- Do not eat on the streets-even if its the small pack of French Fries-you wont get ticked off. Verbally that is! Sit and finish your meal. Remember this is the prim and proper land and you dont really want to stand out any more than you do by virtue of your tone (both skin & accent!)

Oh Paris- 9th September (afternoon)

The Boat tour lived upto the high expectations-We passed major landmarks of the city, located on the banks of the river-audio guide was also good in that it wasnt exhaustingly comprehensive but provided enough interesting facts to keep us entertained for one hour (sometimes, staring at bridges does get a bit tiring-but then you hear some snippet from the past which makes you perk up and take in the view with renewed interest).

That done-the next task at hand was to take care of our rumbling tummies-and here we were let down-the mistake we made was to settle down for lunch at one of the places near the Eiffel Tower-the primary consideration of something veg on the menu was satisfied and we even saw some desi faces-But as they say-kindly not to be going after appearances!! The expensive and cold meal consisted of a tough baguette with grated carrot and tomotoes (for me) and cold ham with potatoes & cheese (for G). My teeth rattled, my palette saddened & my tummy and G became grumbling companions-former hated me for the excuse for food I was shoving into it and G cribbed vehemently about the "kachcha meat"!

Next we trooped to Musee d'Orsay. Home to wonderful impressionist work-feasted our eyes on Monet, Renoir, Passaro, Sisley & Van Gogh- Oh, art can be so beautiful :) Leave alone art as an investment which tends to take a rather economic & dry point of view-my entire "art-nah for me! perspective was totally transformed. One of the many changes that this trip brought about in the way I think.

Outside the Musee d'Orsay, we joined the crowds sitting on the steps and the sundry street artists who were performing to this audience: there was a skater boy doing wondrous stunts (the stuff that finds its way to youtube) and there was this crazy wizened old man who was imitating passers by in a really silly & highly comical way. (I too became one of his hapless victims, though for me it wasnt very embarassing coz I was just intently looking in the skater boy's direction, with hand on chin- didnt realize when he sat down next to me, obviously imitating my actions-so when I turned, I jumped coz I was staring right into his face LOL-crazy idiot!).

The Jardin des Tuileries was lovely-combine a sunny Sunday afternoon, couples & families basking in the sun, some coffee and a rum crepe- Heavenly! A walk in the garden just brought alive all the praise and the adulation that I had heard heaped on Paris and made me a convert of the "I love Paris" brigade. Such a beautiful and unhurried city-would definitely be coming back here loads and loads of times (but armed with better French!)

( I just have to break this day into 3 parts-just cant get factual about Paris-bear with me as a I relive the experience in words & visuals)

Paris & Tour Eiffel-9th Sept morning

Got up quite early, considering how bad the previous night had been, but then the competition to the bath and the loo is known to have transformed the laziest buggers into proverbial early birds. Early breakfast and helpful directions later (contrary to what we'd heard, all the people we asked for help/directions etc were rather forthcoming and sweet-not stuck up at all!), we boarded bus 80 to Tour Eiffel, named after its creator (The tower-not the bus!)

What I discovered is that the French tend to dislike anything new, its gotta be old enough for them to like it-we saw plenty of examples of this-from the unique Metro station signs (which looked like dragon eyes) to even the poor Eiffel Tower-which were subjected to the same treatment- therefore, anything new must age before becoming a recipient of grudging acceptance or adoration. (Remember the term nouveau riche? same logic!-so you need generations of wealth to be certified wealthy! Rags to riches story wont do!)

The Eiffel Tower is an imposing & grand structure, but when you are walking all those steps to get to the 3rd floor (from where you take the elevator up to the top), all you are seeing are the welded iron & steel insides, which arent particularly glamorous. Also, my long held belief of the Eiffel Tower being black in color was shattered-its as brown as Cadbury's Dairy Milk! I attribute my wrong belief to the black replica we had at our place (had it just fallen prey to oxidation?)

As testimony to the great shape we were in, we managed to climb all those stairs without too much fuss and man, it was so worth it. The panoramic view was aided by information on what exactly you saw in front of you and each of these info points was accompanied by small visual milestones on the left (when the tower became a TV transmitter station/ weather station, the tower's 1 millionth visitor, when prominent people came to visit etc).

The view from the top is a busy tourist attraction and well, just about okay coz at that height, you do manage to make out some of the more important structures but well, you did that with better sight downstairs anyway!-but if its your first time in Paris, you just have to go right to the top, even if it is knowing what I just told you :)Living upto my reputation of being a sucker for souveniers, I bought small Tour Eiffel replicas (brown, oreadi! so no danger of oxidation and propogation of a wrong belief) and a couple of extremely nice Black & White postcards.
Since the Seine Boat Tour was really recommended, we bought tickets for those and used the time between then and the departure time, admiring the Eiffel Tower from afar.

Traveller's Tip #1-Buy the Visite Paris pass (i think there are difft versions available-we bought the 3 day pass). This pass also entitles you to discounts at a lot of places, including museums and boat tours etc.

Traveller's Tip #2- Avoid buying the pass to the top from the ground floor ticket counters-Climb up 3 storeys and what awaits you is information & a shorter Q to get to the top.

Traveller's Tip#3-What really helped in planning our days in Paris (and the other cities) were the Fodors travel guide itineraries, available for free at the website-they usually mention tourist places and must do's which are close to each other, so you can take devote each day to a district and the highlights there, without totally wearing yourself out). They also have nice culture & food tips -which, if not very useful, make for a fun read.

London with a touch of Paris-8th Sept

The thought of getting up early after a nite of hard partying was torture-putting it into action was tougher. But no recourse, as I simply could not leave London without meeting good friends-The Loomba parivar.

While in the tube (the metro, silly!-wasnt travelling through magic beakers & test tubes), for some strange reason, I couldnt stop smiling at the fact that this was going to be the first time I would travel alone in London (yeah, I know-grown up girl and should be no big deal)-but I get this feeling each time I travel alone in a new city-the nervous excitemen does fizzle out after a couple of hours but I do really feel proud of navigating my way around a new place-it could have something to do with my pathetic sense of direction (in my world, I locate places by landmarks and landmarks alone-had a hard time during my sales stint in Pepsi, where I wouldnt know the name of the road but I would know the exact series of outlets that I'd find there-" Laxmi pan bhandar se right" , phir "jalaram cold drinks", uske aage " Bhavesh general store" blah blah- Landed me in a soup a couple of times during high profile visits, coz I missed the turn and made my god level bosses believe I was a fat-ass who never did any market work & someone who just played a recorded traffic scene each time they called). But well, enough of a digression!

So yeah- felt great to meet the Loombas-had a delicious hoome cooked meal and saw great snaps (that sold me on to the idea of definitely visiting Scotland, sometime!).

And as paranoid that I had become after the barrage of horrible stories of thefts at youth hostels and the pickpocket gangs in Italy, I thought it'd be wise to download all my London snaps onto Suvir's unsuspecting computer. Logic being-at worst, I'd lose the camera-wont lose precious memories. Yeah, very positive, I know.

(for the record, all my steely glares and paranoia-induced strategies of deception worked and we didnt really lose/forget/damage anything valuable, during this trip-only our minds, sometimes!)

The day was also marked by the huge 'phatka' of 125 pounds each, courtesy a misunderstanding in reading train times. Our train was supposed to leave at 15:11 and arrive in Paris at 18:43. However, G in some delirious trance, calculated time differences and worked out some economic curve to arrive at the fact that our departure time was 18:43-with the result that once we reached the station, no rubbing of eyes could reverse the train that we missed. So well, had to buy new tickets! (Einstein!)

The temptation to scream and generally create a scene was curbed rather well, I'd say, particularly by me (given the past record of hysteria and panic at smallest change in plans), with the long term vision of having a great trip and the overarching feeling that we shouldnt let this minor blip make grouchoes (if ever that's a word) out of us.

The Eurostar journey from London to Paris was comfortable and uneventful and largely comprised a great quiche and a dishy but extremely boring co-passenger.

Arrived at Paris du Nord-had to change trains (yeah-backpacking also means no-frills, no-cabs and no 100 euros a night hotels!) and several steps to get to the hostel and we did get a bit lost on the street looking for it (rather frightening..coz I had visions of us huddled in one corner-spending the night on the streets!). God bless G's soul- she helped me with carrying my fat bag around most of Europe (so G, this is the cumulative, all-in-one mega Thanks :)

Though at one place, the Montmartre station, it was just so pointless-and since its a funny incident, I insist on describing it in detail. Yeah so we reached the station, relatively unscathed (after an encounter with a Loony Punju weirdo who kept shouting sat-sri-akal & blowing air-kisses from the other platform-When will scumbags leave this planet and create their own scumworld??).

Now the direction to our hostel clearly stated, "Take the steps followed by some rights/lefts (which i couldnt distinguish between as no landmarks were provided)" as the instruction #1 and since, compliance in foreign land comes easy-we gulped as we saw the "sign of 90 steps" that greeted us, but valiantly made our way up. Huffing and puffing and sweating- even getting an occasional sympathy smile from the passersby, -we made it-tired but victorious! Getting to the hostel safe and sound made us forget our torture-What revived it cruelly was the sign to the bloody elavator which we noticed, the next day!!!!Those smiles- they were not signs of solidarity from kind hearted souls-they were the "how-dumb-can-you-get snickers from strangers!

The hostel was nice & warm and it felt nicer after we realized that we get 1/2 an hr of free internet and that there was a loo+shower attached to the room :) (yeah, I also had visions of queueing up for the basics!). We were to share our small lil home for the next 4 nights with 2 American girls (stuck up), 1 Romanian girl (seemed nice but her lack of english and our lack of french couldnt possibly amount to a decent conversation) & 1 Romanian boy (her bro, we discovered later).

Sleep didnt come easy-maybe it had to do with the squeaky bed and the individuals listed above who had graduated in honors from The Twist & Turn through the night School. Maybe it had to do with sleeping in close proximity with total strangers. Or maybe my hostel paranoia. Or maybe just, maybe it could have had something to do with the 2 calls I got from Singapore numbers at some unearthly hour, about my cable tv and my credit card! (the singaporean accent can sound very very annoying at 4 am, trust me!). Or maybe my brain just sensed how stupid the rest of me would be proved the next day when i read the "lift" sign. Ah well. suffice to say, I hardly got any sleep. But well, what do they say, tomorrow's another day-and will admit, it did turn out to be a great one!

Traveller's tip#1-For London-Paris, a return ticket on train is cheaper than a single ticket. Yes ! Just dont ask me how or why. The flight is even cheaper-so unless you are spending sleepless nights over global warming and you've turned carbon-o-phobic, just fly a budget airline. (The indian rule of train fares being lesser than air fares fails miserably)

Traveller's tip #2- Book your hostel in Paris way in advance-tends to be the most expensive city as far as good hostels go. Square Caulaincourt, where we stayed, was good-but we booked it only coz others like Le village etc were full.

& since Im feeling generous, Traveller's tip#3- Do carry some heat & eat/cup'o noodles type of food (I'd reco kohinoor rice series-coz it gives u the curry and the carb together lah)-most hostels have fully equipped kitchens-make the most of it. This will be really helpful if you are comforted by'hot' food alone/are veggie/dont have the energy or money to make it to the next restaurant & can not, simply can not have more crepes! (which I promise, you WILL have a lot of , if you are veggie).