Archive for Italy

Pizza and proclamations

There are a couple of things you cannot avoid in Italy – Good food, good wine and the regular proclamation of love. From my recent trip to Italy,  apart from putting on an extra few kilos thanks to the pizza and pasta, I also fell victim to the regular ‘ti amo realmente’ proclamations in the form of graffiti or just a tease from the guy in the restaurant.  From the earlier trip in 2005 to this trip in 2011, I can’t remember anything in common except the mozzarella cheese and wine. In 2005, we did the classic tourist trail with the Colosseum and Vatican, to the Leaning Tower and David, the canals and cathedrals, so on and so forth. This year, we stuck to the Amalfi coast, crowded with Italians on their summer break. We started in crowded Naples and then headed to the stunning island of Capri, came back to the Amalfi coast and tripped around Ravello, Positano and Amalfi before finishing our trip at Sorrento. The spontaneous trip and lack of planning (very unlike me) all just threw unexpected Italian surprises my way. And, I loved it. I wish I could say love the way Italians do. Instead, I’ll try it my style…. a photographic proclamation of love.

In not too many places in the world will a scooter and a flowerpot look so beautiful. That’s the classic ‘I want to photograph every bloody red Vespa’ syndrome.

With all those pretty scooters around, who would want to steal the ugly cars? Well… Italians believe there would still be people who would want to steal cars and this is their solution. A big scary metal lock over the steering wheel. Check it out.

The colour of tomatoes and olives in Italy. Nothing beats the way they glisten with olive oil. Find me a more colourful Bruschetta plate than this and I’ll buy you a pasta. (This one is for my lovely friend Aarti)

Boys will be boys. Even in Italy. Look at these little strategising cliff divers. I’m not kidding. This one boy went on and on and lectured the others about diving.

A little bit of art to everything. Even on a restaurant sign board. I would love to see all the ‘Saravana bhavans’ or ‘Sai sagar’ restaurant signs turn into an artistic one..

The beauty about visiting places like the Amalfi coast is to see how many poets and authors it inspired… Neruda.. even DH Lawrence…

When you think of churches, you think of bells and candles…. Guess what Italy, the homeland of all these magnificent churches has done to the good old candle. I couldn’t help but laugh at these litter elecrtonic candles which turn on when you drop a euro.very very unusual in the otherwise quaint land…

Pretty pink bougainvilleas, tiny houses on the slopes, blue skies and a coastline. Its picture perfect and that’s the Amalfi coast for you. Aren’t those enough reasons to fall in love?

…. and if all that didn’t broaden your mind about Italy…. here is the one ingredient that would broaden something. Pizza – the secret to broader waistlines. (And, please go to little pizza joints with the sign Vera Pizza which means true pizza).

And, more than anything…. learn to fall in love from the Italians.

Vacation Out of Office

Out of Office Message 1

I will be out of office from 29.08.2011 to 02.09.2011. Please get in touch with xyz incase of anything urgent.

Kind Regards,
Me (when I really care about keeping the job)

Out of Office Message 2

I will be out of office because I’ve decided to take this late holiday that I deserve.  In the time period that I’m enjoying the sun, your emails will be deleted and I will come back to a clutter free inbox on 05.09.2011. Do not bother getting in touch with anyone else in my absence as they will probably mess up the work and I’ll have to do double work when I am back. 5 days won’t really change anything. Just wait.

If you cannot wait and you can manage to complete this work without my intervention, it would be brilliant. That just makes me wonder why you mailed me in the first place anyway.

Cheers,
Me

Permanent Out of Office

If Out of Office Message 2 gets me fired, I’ll probably have more time to travel anyway.

Somewhere hot!

The iPhone App for weather is simply the most depressing thing one can look at.  Stuck in the pee-hole of Austria (constant rain in Fuschl), the chances you will see weather forecast as sunny is rare as spotting a kangaroo in Austria. The words that haunt me are Partly Cloudy, Chances of Rain, Mostly Cloudy, Thundershower and Heavy Rain. What is even more ironic is the visual icons depicting weather for the week.

Saturday – Mostly Cloudy and Chances of Rain

Sunday – Heavy Rain

Monday – Clear

Tuesday – Clear

Wednesday – Sunny

Thursday – Sunny

Friday – Partly Cloudy

It feels like the Weather Gods clearly do not know weekends from weekdays.

So, my resolution for vacation this year is as simple as this – ‘Somewhere hot’. I get a week off in August and I am torn between 3 destinations – Greece, Cyprus and Italy. With the economic crisis in Greece, it may not be a bad option heading there, but would I do justice to a place which has history in every nook and corner if I just bum around in the beach. How I hate the tough decision one has to go through to choose a destination for a holiday. The Santorini images beckon me quite a bit, but I want to enjoy the simple pleasures of sun and sand without the guilt of not visiting the Parthenon. Hmmm…. I guess that’s the good part about Italy being on the list. We already did the tourist trail – Rome, Firenze, Pisa, Venice, Milano et all and I guess I could do with one week of sun, sand and pasta without worrying. Then, will I wonder about the vineyards in Tuscany.

I am such a greedy pig when it comes to holidays and the biggest hurdle has always been ‘me’. I need to learn to be in a place without wanting to see everything around it. With just a week in hand, I need a lazy vacation injection. Or, I need another year off to explore the cultural side of every country over and above the beach shacks.  Anyway, after all the rationalization, I have a very strong feeling that our decision is going to depend eventually on the the cheap flights available. So far, the flights to Paphos are the cheapest of the lot and that puts Cyprus right on track. Well, Paphos is close to the mythical birthplace of Aphrodite, the Greek Goddess of Love and Beauty.  How is that for history at a beach destination? I can’t wait.

Watch this space for where I head to eventually…

Around the world in many Cups

People are clearly coffee people or tea people. Just like you find Dog people or Cat people. Just last week, a good friend of mine made a remark about how I had changed in 2 years. Apparently, when he met me 2 years ago, I would drink nothing but black coffee. Agree. About a year ago, I was overworked and I would drink nothing but Red Bull. Partly agree. Recently, he mentioned that my preference has changed to tea. Disagree. All this hype about Coffee, Tea and Red Bull, I decided to think about my life, my travels and really figure out who I am. So, here are plenty of coffee moments, some tea moments and many life lessons.

Nothing inspires me to write more than coffee – Coffee has been the savior. When I blog. When I write in my travel diary. More than anything, when I had to write innumerable mails at work. When I had to especially frame politically correct emails. When I had to apply for a job. When I had to write my resignation. You get the drift. (Infact, right now, that’s what I’m drinking)

Starbucks should not even be your last resort – If you are anywhere near North America, they sell you brown liquid in the name of Starbucks Coffee. I detest Starbucks. I avoid it all costs. Whoever came up with Tall, Grande and whatever? I know Americans like everything ‘supersize’ but it is ridiculous making anyone drink that amount of bad coffee. (I know my sister is probably going to kill me for this, but to save humanity from bad coffee, I had to write this). If they worry so much about the coffee farmers and so on and so forth (as it reads in their promotional material in store), they would stop spending so much money on real estate and give it back to society.

The best coffee can be brewed with socks – Honest to God. In Brazil, they have this coffee maker called a Cuador, which is nothing but a sock like cloth attached to a metal ring and handle. You put the coffee powder in this and Voila, you have a hot cup of awesome coffee. This makes a fabulous travel companion. All you need to do is buy the local coffee from a supermarket and boil water and you can make your own coffee, about 10 times cheaper than drinking coffee outside. If you do not get a cuador, fresh clean ankle socks works.

Meet the people behind the scenes and hear the coffee stories – Whether it is in the Guatemalan coffee farms or the Bali coffee estates, you’ll find coffee farmers to be warm and loving and ready to make the 100th cup of the day just to share with you. I remember sitting and chatting with this lady who was roasting the ‘Luwak’ beans in Bali and telling me the history of coffee. Known as Kopi Luwak, it is among the most expensive coffee in the world. The process of making this coffee will disgust you – they make the little Asian Palm Civet’s eat the berries and excrete the same. Then, the beans having gone through the intestines and out, are separated, cleaned and roasted and so on and so forth, till the most amazing coffee is made.

Sometimes, the only thing that can get you through bad coffee is good company – I love black coffee. Hanging around a bus station in Brazil with a friend, I was deeply disappointed to find only coffee chains with milky coffee and not the usual Cafezinho (small black coffee). Remember cribbing a lot. Then, the adaptable calm friend of mine picked up the coffee and literally thrust it on my face. One coffee slap was good to get me slurping out of the cup. And surprisingly, I enjoyed it as she cracked jokes about bus stations, travel, losing weight and all that. So, it is true. Bad Coffee + Good Company = Great memories.

The one thing on top of my sightseeing list in every city is the oldest café – Whether it is Café Sperl in Vienna or Café Tortoni in Buenos Aires, it was top priority for me to visit these cafes. All the museums and palaces of the world came next. Old world charm, black and white photographs, the history adds to the nostalgia.  Imagine sitting in the room where the King of Spain sipped coffee. I’ve landed up spending a bomb across such cafes but you never think money when you think coffee. These are far stronger memories than seeing a hundred paintings in a museum and not remembering one.

When in trouble, find an Illy - For those who take their black coffee seriously, visiting a new country and not finding the perfect blend can be worrisome. I’ve had terrible terrible coffee in Malaysia, North India and Egypt. A wise woman I met in Mexico told me that the easiest way to find good coffee in a country is to find the Italian Embassy or Italian Cultural Centre and hope they have a cafeteria. Illy rocks. (Now, I can’t help but remember the day my Italian neighbour in Chennai taught me how to make an Italian espresso – Read more here)

Never make the mistake of ordering coffee in Tea land – Was in Egypt last year and craving for coffee one day. Made the terrible mistake of ordering a coffee in the old markets of Cairo. With tons of Elachi and a terrible fragrance, one sip made me cry out Allah. I had the impression it would be close to Turkish coffee or Arabic coffee, dark and strong. Had no idea it came with spices. Prompty, I switched to Tea. It is not about the drink at all. It is about lounging around in a Sheesha place with a glass of tea for hours.

When you in the wilderness, coffee or tea, have it hot – After a long day bushwhacking or trekking or hiking or whatever you do in the wild, the only thing I yearn for is a hot cup of whatever. (This is obviously second to a cold beer, but I generally don’t carry a mini fridge when I go hiking). So, for a change, its not about coffee or not about tea but about hot water. As the kettle gently sways over the camp fire, you have this warm feeling within you that doesn’t go away. (Tried and tested in many places around the world – Special moment was in Swansea in Wales and Smoky Mountains in the USA).

While coffee goes with backpacking, tea goes with luxury – Unless you are backpacking in the Middle East or roughing it out in a guesthouse in Varanasi, I would suggest the best companion to backpacking is coffee. Anyway, coming back to tea, why tea and luxury? Recently, I was invited to a Champagne Afternoon Tea at the Dorchester hotel in London. No, I’m not kidding. With scones and jam, champagne and perfect little sandwiches, they served a whole bunch of us tea in fine china. I was so worried I was going to knock down something or break something. It was like being in the Titanic, with all the cutlery. Rated as one of the best Tea experiences in all of Britain, this was something way out of my league. (Ok.. someone else was paying.. Haha) Anyway, I’m not bad at role playing. I promptly held the cup like most of them do, with the little pinkie finger sticking out, pursed my lips and slurped away. And, I felt like the perfect lady when the waiter actually asked me, ‘Would you like some more teaaaaa?’. And, that is the London experience I worry about.

Saving the best for last, nothing beats South Indian Filter coffee – Yes, I’m that South Indian girl who grew up drinking filter coffee from a tumbler. So, now you know why the obsession to find coffee everywhere I go. This was just a few moments before my wedding (early in the morning), drinking a strong cup of filter coffee, freshly brewed at home. (My aunt was hyperventilating that I would spill the coffee on my Sari, but I managed). I absolutely needed to clear my head before taking that big step towards marriage. Like I said, nothing beats South Indian Filter coffee.

So, brought up in coffee land (South India) and obsessed with coffee land (Brazil), moving to tea land (Britain) is a bit of a worry. Especially after I read this quote. “Coffee in England always tastes like a chemistry experiment.” – Agatha Christie

And, such is life. No fear. What lays ahead is a path of discovery. I cannot wait to begin my coffee crawl of London and add to these stories here.

Wild affair with Travel God

I’ve never been religious. I’ve personally hated going to crowded temples and waiting in long queue’s to pray to God, when the first thing I was taught when I was a child was “God is one and everywhere”. But, I still went to temples to please my grandparents. And then, as I grew up, I saw random bullshit happening around the world over “which God is better” et all. It drove me nuts. I stopped going to temples when I moved out of home. The only time I visited a temple since then, was for my wedding, that too since the venue itself was a temple.

And its been more than a decade, temple free. But, I realised I’ve been making up by visiting all these sacred places around the world in the name of traveling and forgotten they are houses of prayer. Did I go there for God? God no. I’m trying to remember why I went – Architecture maybe. Unesco World Heritage site I guess. History for sure. Wonder of the World, who knows? Either way, I never prayed when I went anywhere. But, looks like there is one God hanging around across all these places and that is the Travel God. He loves me, chases me and makes sure I find him in the next destination or he finds me in the next destination. I’m having this wild affair with him and no one seems to mind. It is for him that I climbed those ridiculously steep steps in the Guatemalan temples or walked through claustrophobic passages in Egyptian temples. It is for him that I kept silent in the serene cathedrals across Europe or danced with no inhibition on the streets of Salvador. And, the beauty of it is that we keep discovering each other all the time.

So, here are the memorable moments from across the world in sacred places, where I found the one God to love. He made me fall in love with him and he taught me a lesson or two.

At Christ the Redeemer in Rio De Janeiro, Brazil – Where Travel God tested my patience with the crowds and the unbearable sun (not being favourable to my photography).

At the Cathedral in Cusco, Peru, just outside which my wallet got stolen. This was the first test of travel – Can a solo woman backpacker manage without money in a strange land. He was just putting me in a situation to see how tough I can be.

At the Bonfim Church in Salvador Brazil, on the day of Bonfim festival, the first house of prayer I went to after having beer and dancing. A strange new concept to me. But, he seemed to derive joy from the mad parade and I just went along.


At Westminster Abbey in London, where he showed me two sides of a coin. The place were union and separation exists under one roof. The place where so many people marry. The place where so many lay buried. I had goosebumps thinking about Grand Royal weddings. I felt more moved when I saw the graves of those Great poets, authors, scientists, nobles… The poets corner and so on.

At a beautiful Hindu temple in Bali, devoid of the loud chattering Pujaris that you often see in India or the crowds or the Aarti’s or the flowers or the fire. He showed me that religion is incidental. It doesn’t have to follow norms. The same Hindu temple in Bali was more Buddhist than anything else. Buddhism. Hinduism. Doesn’t matter. It was silent and beautiful.

At the Duomo in Florence, Italy where I found the Artist in him. The artistic cathedral itself. The artists outside the cathedral wanting to make portraits of you. The artist within.

At the Alhambra in Granada, Spain where he showed me that God is in the detail. The less said, the better.

At Chichen Itza in Mexico where I discovered that God doesn’t mind an evil side. All those skulls. All those demons. All those you see oh so often across the world. If we did not know what evil was, how are we supposed to identify what’s good.

At Abu Simbel in Egypt, where he taught me that nothing comes easy. Getting up at 2 30 am and taking a convoy to reach there to see the majestic idols at sunrise. What’s tougher. This whole temple was moved from one place to another and built piece by piece. Nothing comes easy, my dear.

At the monastery in Ladakh in India, where he showed me that God is as much in energy and restlessness as much as he is in calmness and patience. Check out the young monk and old monk and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

That’s the only spiritual discourse I have for the traveler’s soul. Tell you more when I meet him next.