Melbourne Diaries: Train Journeys

Southern Cross Station

This weekend I made my first long-distanced train journey in Australia. It always surprised me that despite a train network laid out by the British, I never heard anyone in Australia mention the train routes. So, I decided to gain a first hand experience, and now know the reason for its relative obscurity.

To begin, I was traveling from Melbourne to Sydney, which is a distance of 875 km. Something like 9 hours for a road trip.  You would assume that on a train you could make the journey in say 8 hours. Well – no, the countrylink, the Australian railway service, says 11 hours is their standard time for the journey. Please note the word Standard.

I reached the Southern Cross station in time, expecting the general punctuality that I have come to expect from any service provider who does not follow the standard time of desh. I was trying not to get annoyed when the train reached even later than the scheduled departure, and then went through a process of quick cleaning – may be it was cleaning, but it sure as hell was not quick.  The train had only about 8 coaches – too few , I think, especially since it is one out of the only two trains in a day which connect two of Australia’s most prominent cities.

After almost an hour, we were allowed to enter the esteemed coach. Being from India, I was expecting something like a sleeper. In a worse case, I assumed the arrangement would be similar to those French trains where so many seats are empty that you can easily stretch your legs and doze off. I was wrong on both counts. May be I just have wrong standards.

What presented itself was, instead, a set of reclining seats aka Shatabdi. Imagine an overnight Shatabdi, where you pay much more, do not get food, and have a restricted incline. (Do Shatabdi’s recline? I seem to have forgotten). The chair barely reclined and the footrest did not stay where you wanted it to (you had to keep it pressed with your feet – like an endless struggle for assertion). In short, all ingredients for a restless night. To top it all, the train did not move to a fast lulling motion. It was shaky, alright – just not in a comfortable way. For the first time, I missed the comfort of  Indian Railways and Lalu’s efficiency. (I wouldn’t even go so far as to compare this service with the European network, that would be blasphemous!).

There were a few positives, sure. The ease of booking and finding reservation – well no one travels the route, so that is explicable. Reservation was easily done online in a couple of minutes. On the train, there was an overnight buffet providing meals and drinks, which ran through most of the journey, even at late night. And on the few stations that it did stop, the train did so quietly. 10 minutes before the stop was due, attendants came stealthily with a small light and woke up the passengers who had to alight. I found the system polite and thoughtful.

The small stations themselves: I was amazed that anyone got down there. I always think of Australia as a bunch of few big cities interspersed with vast empty spaces. To realize that there were small towns in these spaces, even accessible by train was educational. I could hardly see any settlement around those stations (but that could be just the darkness).

The train arrived Sydney almost 2 hours late – on the return the delay was even more. They sighted re-routing due to track work as the reason, but I think the services are plain inefficient. That explains why most people avoid them, even when the alternative (flight) is expensive. I do not think I am going to try them again – not unless they are thinking of upgrading, to the French TGV for instance? Countrylink , are you linking? I mean listening?

Melbourne Diaries: Tennis

I have almost never followed tennis, but with the Australian Open happening right here in Melbourne, it is hard to completely ignore it. It crops up everywhere – on the drive to office, lunch conversations, tea-room tid-bits. So when they were screening the Finals on a big screen at the heart of city center (Federation Square), I joined in the spectator crowd to enjoy the pulse.

It was a very nice evening, especially with the soaring temperatures of last week now abated, and the whole city coming out in celebration. The tennis itself was very good, stretching to five sets, and each set running for good lengths. It was a pity to see Federer lose – he was the local favorite.

Melbourne Diaries: Sunday Slumber

So far, I have barely begun to explore this city which had so enamored me on my first brief encounter with it. Now on reflection, it seems that the love was spurred partly by the gray coldness of the weather, and partly by the wild people I had met here and spent my time with.

Today, egged on by Eddie Vedder, I have been feeling a pinch of wanderlust. I slept listening to Long Nights, and dreamed of sleeping in a jungle camp amidst queer silences. (Perhaps it was a modified memory from last week’s camping). So here I am, walking through this city.

I have already walked these roads a few times now, but somehow unconscious and unaware. For instance, I had not noticed the Simond’s Hall so far, which, amidst smaller residential buildings suddenly opens up in a wide entrance and has a sizeable barren parking lot. I had never seen its quietly imposing demeanor, which is hyphenated by its Victorian style galleries.

Even though the charmingly Victorian designs of most buildings here had not completely skipped my eyes, while walking on the Park Street I noticed for the first time how beautiful and picturesque most of these houses were individually. However, their individual beauty is lost in the collage they make together, which is not beautiful or impressive. It is perhaps that everyone wanted to be different, but essentially since they were working on the same basic idea, they ended up in a jumble of mismatched similarities. They have neither the charm of asymmetry, nor the harmony of uniformity.

Outside some houses, white wrought iron chairs were perfectly placed against white wooden windows. To complete the picture (remember the photographs of French houses?), a mud-pot was placed on the window sil – the stemming red and shooting greens of its blooms lending color to the scene. I mentally made a note to click a picture of the window next time I walked past with a camera. Though today, I am sort of happy to not have that camera, because it often ruins the sense of peace. (And today is a peaceful day). I keep trying to capture the image exactly as I see through my eyes, but the camera doesn’t always co-operate – eventually the repeated efforts frustrate me and the moment is ruined.

I am writing all this, lying down on the very green grass of the Royal Botanical gardens on a few sheets of borrowed paper – and I feel very happy and content in the moment. I have come to like spending Sundays here, mostly reading.

Great Ocean Road

Twelve Apostles

Finally, I went to the Great Ocean Road this weekend. It was a lazy loop through the road up to Port Campbell. We camped for the night near the river Aire in Otway and it was beautiful and lovely.
Will write the details later, but I know for sure that I am going there again. Soon.

Melbourne Beckons

Another trip to Australia – this time I am going to Melbourne for three months. I really loved the city when I went there for a weekend trip. It has an enchanting crisp feel.
I am also very excited about traveling to the Great Ocean Road – I hope I can do a driving trip around the area and spend some time with the 12 apostles and the London Arch. I hope I will be able to post some beautiful shots of both soon, especially since I am also getting my new zoom lens before the trip.
Like last time, I am still thinking about Alice Springs and Uluru, but let’s see what time permits.

Amidst the Dhauldhars: Continued

The second part of our Dhauldhar journey was spent in Palampur, with repeated trips to Mcleodganj and surrounding areas. (Continued from here)

We left Khajjiar in the morning after a heavy breakfast, and many a cups of hot, steaming tea. Enroute to Palampur, we crossed Jot – the highest hill town in the region (at approx 2700 m). I keep thinking of that place and dreaming of a quiet fortnight of being snowed in and doing nothing but read and write. (I am determined to take the next winter break after snowfalls begin, and stay locked in for a week in a small loft).Once we started descending from Jot, the air got slightly warmer. The heavy breakfast and the coziness soon lulled me into a refreshing nap.

By the time I got up, we were close to Dharamsala. These areas were far more populated than those we had come from. We soon reached Palampur, and struggled a bit with the directions to Country Cottage, where we were planning to stay.The access to the cottage was through the army cantonment, which was another 2-3 km outside of the town.

Palampur is a small town, better known for its tea estates. The charm is the British type plantations, and we had gone there mainly to live on a tea estate in relative quiet (Partly also because we could not find anything available in Mcleod, thanks to the govt session).Country Cottage itself is in the middle of a huge plantation, also surrounded by orchards and forests. The place is owned and run by a family, who are the loveliest hosts that I have come across. From the cottage, there is a pretty view of the Dhauldhars.

After a little bit of snacking and tea, we went out for a walk. Just a few meters  from cottages, we came upon the forests and stream, leading to the village of Chandpur. People there seemed to be having a leisurely time, enjoying the last few rays of the sun. It is traditionally a village of Gaddi’s, the local name for shepherd, but now also houses a lot of tea-estate workers. You can walk up further into the hills, or go down to the river. We merely sat down beneath a tree for a few moments and walked back. Next morning, we set out for another walk to catch the sunrise, and when it rose over the Dhauldhars, it was beautiful. We had climbed quite a way up on winding hill roads by then.

Later in the day, we hired a car to take us to McLodganj. On the way, we took a couple of detours – one to go to the artist village of Andretta. It is famous for Sardar Shobha Singh’s gallery who used to live and work there. The Gallery is actually just a small room with a few paintaings – the protraits were very good, but otherwise passable. There is also a pottery institute, which is quite well known and people come for extended periods there to learn pottery. A nice place.

We took another detour to Norbulingka Institute, and that is a lovely place. Located close to Dharamsala, it has been set up to preserve Tibetan arts. With a quiet and beautiful Buddhist temple, a doll museum where vivid dolls depict the rites and culture of Tibet and different art schools, it is almost like being in Tibet. There is a cozy canteen near the entrance which serves delectable Tibetian cuisine and lovely cakes. I could spend hours and hours there were it not for the taxi.

We then climbed up to Mcleod. It is a steep climb, but the town that greets you is totally adorable. Even as you enter, you feel that you can find a corner and lie down to enjoy the sun and no one will bother you. We did something very similar – found an outdoor cafe which just overlooks the valley and lazily sipped coffee. Ofcourse, since we had only the day, we did get up and walk around, enjoying the colorful markets and the Tibetan chants that fill the air. It is like a small Tibet – many peple wearing the flag or sporting the demand for Saving Tibet, and the maroon of monks’ dresses splashed everywhere. There are small shops in every corner, and even smaller eateries here and there. At the head of the town is the Namgyal Monastery, the place where Dalai Lama has set up quarters ever since his exile.

The next day, we spent picnicing around Palampur. Our hosts packed us a few sandwiches, we picked up some water and books and then set out. At the top of hills there is a tribal temple called Jakhni Mata. That was roughly our destination, if only to know when to start descending back. The place is quite at a climb, and is at the end of a cliff, lookng down into a deep valley outlined by another hill from the Dhauldhars. We had planned to set up our picnic on the temple, but when we reached there, another nosy family was already up there – they asked too many questions and fed up, we walked back, to take shelter under a tree. It was a glorious afternoon, and we enjoyed the sandwiches and reading in the bushes for sometime.

Next day was time to go – we had to catch the bus to Delhi for Dharamsala, so we decided to spend  the whole day in Mcleodganj. There we went to Jimmy’s Italian Cafe for a sumptuous lunch on the terrace, enjoying the sun and the mountains. Even the indoor cafe is very pretty, lined with movie posters (remember Big Chill in Delhi?). It has a small library, and also a stage where a live band plays in the evening. Out on the street, there was a huge furover – Dalai Lama was returning to his home from somewhere and the whole town was out in the streets to catch a glimpse. It was like watching F1 – a huge crowd, long wait, and the event is over in a jiffy – space of 5 seconds.

So it was that our Himachal trip went this year – quiet and soulful. Am I going again next year? Of course, though this time I will try to go before October so I can access Pangi & Spiti. And then again in January – to spend a few days in a snowed in small town. Dreams Dreams.

Discovering Food in Mumbai

For some reasons, I have spent a large part of the holiday season in Mumbai. Just to get the spirit going, I resolved to spend a good amount of this time outside home. And since there are no good movies in town, and my beloved Landmark is still out of existence thanks to the deadly fire three months ago, I found that restaurants provided a good outing. So here are a few of the newbies I recently discovered, combined with some of my regular favorites:

Soul Fry Casa, South Bombay: A delightful place for Portuguese/Goan food. Located right in the heart of business sector around Flora Fountain in South Bombay, it is quite easy to miss if you are not looking out. It is a few meters ahead of Fab India as you walk towards the Fountain, and is hidden amongst the clutter of shops there. Once you enter, you will find a lovely diner. With an overhead loft, it appears quite homely and inviting. The wooden furniture is complemented with lime benches in places. There is lunch buffet on weekdays, but we decided to go a-la carte. The menu is not very long, which makes choosing easier. What I was delighted with is the fact that they had a good Vegetarian fare, which is generally missing from most of the famous South Bombay restaurants. The food itself arrived in the old-world copper ware, very aptly going with the rest of the décor. I don’t know how to even begin on the taste. Though do look out before you ask for making the curry spicy. I did, and the curry was laced with indistinguishable bits of green chili, burning me to the core. Not to say that it wasn’t enjoyable. Don’t miss having Bebinka with ice-cream for dessert.

Rice Boat, Versova: Ok, here is more of the coastal cuisine. Rice boat is quite the place to go if you want to try Kerala food. It is located in the hub of Mumbai’s suburban food factory – JP Road in Versova, a few blocks after the famous Ivy. With a traditional Mallyali décor, complete with quiet waterfalls along the wall and waiters in ethic attire, this place smells of Kerala. The chef rolls out Appams in a quiet corner, tantalizing your taste buds. The food is spicy and delicious, esp if you go with the time-tested Appam with Veg-Ishtew. Olarthiatus are a good choice for starters, and the minty coconut water is lovely for company. This rice boat has a small bar in the corner, and also seating upstairs, either of which I did not try. I am told that the original Rice boat, one near Mahim flyover is a much smaller version with no alcohol in the deal. I am told that the sea food here is very good , though my MIL did not seem to think so.

Signature, Andheri Kurla Road: Now here is a place many people do not know of, simply because of its less than glorious location. After all who likes to visit the dusty Sakinaka area for food. We came to know about it when it used to be Copper Chimney, an instantly recognized brand. I have to say, the food is far ahead of the other chimney’s I have visited. A multi-cuisine restaurant, it is most well known for its North Indian recipes, though you can try Chinese too. Located in the basement, the décor is soothing, and the pictures from old Mumbai are definitely interesting. You can eat almost anything on the menu, but do try their lentil soup and tandoori aaloo which are delectable. My non-vegetarian friends and family loves it as much as I do, perhaps more, and indulge in all chicken items with bliss. The place also has a better than average collection of beer, wines and cocktails. The service is a little slow, so do not try to do a business lunch here, not if you have less than an hour anyway.

Goa-Portuguesa, Mahim: Who does not know this place? It is almost useless to mention this one, especially after its prominent feature in lonely planet. But it is certainly one of my favorite places for Konkani food. This is the only place where I can combine Mallu Appams with Goan Xacutis and though they advice against it at the restaurant, trust me it is a lovely combination. You can be conventional and eat those appams with the chettinads, or eat the vindaloos with roti/naans, and you are sure to enjoy it. The ambience is Portuguese, and rather cool with its happy and chirpy Goan guitarists. The place has sister restaurants that they keep trying to promote – Culture Curry for North Indian food and Diva Maharastra for Maharastrian cuisine. I have personally never budged from Goa – after all that is the place to be.

Brio, Juhu: This is usually the place I go to catch a hurried dinner before going for a movie at PVR Juhu. But this holiday season, I spent a good time over a three-course meal. I love the ambience, which is that of a homely bakery. They have now begun seating outdoors in the lawn, but I think Mumbai is too hot for that, esp in afternoons, even with the shades. Their breads are very good, and so is, by extension, the range of muffins/doughnuts/cakes etc. Round up a good meal of Pasta/Pizza with a syrupy chocolate doughnut. Their ice-teas are good too, but the tumbler is too big for one person. For a quick bite, you can enjoy some of the sandwiches or salads. And do rely on the service – it is quick if you get the table.

Amidst the Dhauladhars

Dhauladhars

It seems to me that Himachal is boundless. No matter how many lands there I traverse, there is still much larger part that remains uncharted, and what’s more, unknown. Every year, there is a new discovery, a wonderful one, that makes me wonder where was this before – or where was I?

This year, however, I went to a places well known, some even visited before (though it still felt like a discovery). On previous travels, we  have been to the tribal, Sutlej and Beas circuits, and all the ravings around Mcleodganj by friends and fellow travelers has been pushing us towards the Dhauladhar circuit. We centered our travels in Dharamsala, and ironically spent the least time there if we do not count the time spent at the bus stand.

As all Himachal journeys, this one too started in Delhi, though it truly began when we stopped for dinner at Kalkaji and felt the chilly wind. It was the same place as last year, a little more sophistication added here and there. After 10 hours of a bus ride, we were in Dharamsala. And from there, it was a week of bliss and restfulness.

Manimahesh

Our first halt was Dalhousie. I have heard of this place being quite commercial, and perhaps during the summers it is. I was however lured by its high altitude and its vicinity to Chamba valley. We were staying at Manimahesh from HPTDC, which was almost stranded and we did not encounter any guests in our 2 days of stay. Our room looked out to the  Pir Panjal ranges, almost to where the holy lake of Manimahesh lies (which is what gives the hotel its name). The view was breathtaking, even more so after an evening of snow-fall in the distance made the peaks go white.

For two days, we enjoyed this view, and walked around Dalhousie. It has its lovely walkways, which are not too steep and are just perfect for those contemplative or romantic walks. It is not so easy to climb up to the town-center though, which is at a good walk from the Manimahesh hotel. There is that quintessenial mall road, and though mall roads are horrifying during peak times, this one was a welcome breath of life in that otherwise deserted and empty town.

The bottomless Lake

From Dalhousie, we went to Khajjiar, which is, in the tourist lingo known as the Switzerland of India. With its Deodar trees and lovely winding paths, it does have its charm, but its tourist label is almost annoying. Like the Solang valley near Manali, Khajjiar ground is full of people, but more so of vendors who want to take your ’stylish professional pictures with the lake’, or take you on a paraglide, or a horse ride. Sadly, their pestering completely breaks the mood of serenity which the Deodars have so painstakingly tried to create! Yet, in the late evenings and the early mornings, Khajjiar is unbelievably quiet and peaceful. Just the kind of place where you would like to put up your feet and read a book -  that is what I did.  The life of Khajjiar is its very famous ground, in the middle of which is a lake. Apparently, the depth of the lake has not been measured and the locals believe that it goes to the center of the earth. Perhaps.

The bridge at the Ravi

Between Dalhousie and Khajjiar, we took a detour to Chamba. Both these destinations are themselves part of the Chamba valley, but the town of Chamba lies on a much lower altitude. The drive in the valley is very pretty, with beautiful views of the river and also the lake Chemur. The river Ravi flows along most of the route, and though it seems like there is little water in it at this time, you only have to go near to feel its defeaning roar.

Chamba city itself was a very haphazard hilly town, with old houses tumbling into each other – you never know where one begins and the other ends. In the city centre is a Laxmi Narayan temple which is pristine, with an architecture which takes you years back. I would have loved to photograph it if they had let me. Neither could I get on any of the nearby buildings to capture them, as we were greeted by a soft shower and I was alarmed for my camera’s well-being.

Around Khajjiar is also another temple which is under consruction. Close to this temple there is placed a giant statue of Lord Shiva. With the view of Kailash in the distance, Lord Shiva is revered in the area. This statue looks beautiful and daunting, as it stands in the center, almost as if guarding the whole valley. The entire circle around the statue, and upto Khajjiar is part of the Kalatope Sanctuary and is a beautiful place to walk. I could almost imagine how it would look in the summers when all streams would run amok and greenery would cover the place.

After spending a night in Khajjiar, we hired another car to take us to Palampur, where we planned to spend the next three nights. The route, which we had already traversed on the onward journey is beautiful. From Khajjiar, we keep climbing for sometime up to Jot, which is almost at 2500-2600meters in altitude and is freezing cold. The road then descends rapidly, but not before you see the lovely mountains shrouded in mist and mystery.

I think I will leave Palampur and Mcleodganj for another post – it was another world, and quite different from this first part of the vacation, though equally peaceful and lovely. (Continued here)

The city of Jaipur

My trip to Jaipur did not turn out as expected, even though I managed to have a good time. I guess it is hard to get around if what you have gone for is a wedding.

I did manage to go crazy on the food – esp hot kachoris in the morning served with Jalebi, dal pakodis to go with the evening chai, aloo tikki with chhole. The food was quite phenomenal, even though I still missed the panipuri at Link Road.

I went around the old city, which was as colorful as I remembered it to be. Also went to Kanak Vrindavan, which has remained my favorite place in the city ever since I went there the first time. The old Govinddev temple is beautiful, and the view of the Jalmahal from the jharokhas of the temple is more pristine than one from the road.

A couple of snippets, to keep the memory alive. It is a place frozen in time, and it amazes me how it remains exactly the same every time I visit it – despite the new buildings and the malls, everything is just as small-town as the place I grew up in.

My favorite closed doors

A glimpse of the Jal Mahal from a distance

Revisiting Jaipur

I am going to Jaipur for a short trip, and I am really excited about it. It is strange how years of living in a place dulls your eyes to its beauty that many others can appreciate. It is being away that makes you want to go back – as a traveler, an outsider.

I have no nostalgia for the city. I was happy to get away from it, and I still am. It is/was a jumbled mess of dullness and incredibly small – not in size, but in thoughts. If you blinked an eye, the faint sound would perhaps echo through to everyone you know in the city. That is how small it was. Freedom, individuality and privacy had no space, they were unheard words. May be it has changed, but that is how I remember it, and perhaps will continue to remember it.

But I like it as an outsider, I think the place is delightful. It holds a million colors, even though a lot of the city is painted in an ugly shade which they like to call pink (it isn’t, and it is slightly hideous). I love the way the land saps every bit of the energy and leaves everything and everyone arid, thirsty. On a sunny afternoon, most of the city feels like a deserted battleground, the dry leaves flying about, the arid and harsh wind blowing every strand of hair and beating it against the face. It is hugely annoying but immensely picturesque.

Perhaps it is to beat this dryness of the land that people fill themselves and everything else with color.

There are the forts. So tall, majestic, rotting and full of tales. Amber palace with its ornamentation, Jaigarh with its incredibly huge cannon that even has a name (Jaivan!), Nahargarh, from where you can view the entire city.

There are still villages that are frozen in time – like Amber. Just looking at those doors and elaborate gates will take you at least a 100 years back. Peeping through those doors are people who are perhaps older and carry weights of many years before them.

And the old city – so much noise and life! With houses tumbling into each other, and lanes so narrow that two people cannot cross without touching each other. The air heavily laden with the mingling aromas of food, the panipuri and the chats, the lassis, the samosas and the boondi. The trinkets and the flowing materials. And so much festivity as the city does what is its life – trade.