Snapshots from Nepal: Part Two.

The story so far: Nepal welcomed us with open arms but bad roads, and we made it through Kakarbhitta – Chaubis – Janakpuri – Kathmandu without much incident. It was quite an adventure, hanging on to life as we scaled 45-degree mountain inclines and rode down just as bad descents, with scenic views for company. This post covers the rest of the ride, and the crazy situations I found myself in. To read part one of the Nepal trip, click here.

The road to Kathmandu was a preview of the routes we were yet to cover across Nepal. My tail bone refused to cooperate with my urge to sit down on a soft surface after the ride to the China border; a duck kept me company as I walked in the rain to stretch my legs before getting on the bike again – it waddled alongside making cutesy noises and pecking at unsuspecting people; in Pokhara, we were so bushed with all our previous days that none of us managed to indulge in adventure sports – not even hang gliding; Tatopani was the dream destination with a nightmarish ride to reach it; and Lumbini was sort of alright. When I wasn’t hanging onto dear life or bending over to stretch my back, I was shooting pictures such as these:

Dawn at Dhulikhel, the highest region in Nepal. Couldn't catch a glimpse of the Annapurna range, but we did have the clouds brush past us at our home stay.

Dawn at Dhulikhel, the highest region in Nepal. Couldn’t catch a glimpse of the Annapurna range, but we did have the clouds brush past us at our home stay.

 

Bikers watching as the home stay owners of our halt at Dhulikhel took the bikes down a treacherous road.

Bikers watching as the home stay owners of our halt at Dhulikhel took the bikes down a treacherous road.

 

One of the bumpiest - and most painful - rides I have ever had was to the Chinese border from Dhulikhel, but the payoff was worth it. China looms on the other side of the gate, with planned infrastructure even on the hills!

One of the bumpiest – and most painful – rides I have ever had was to the Chinese border from Dhulikhel, but the payoff was worth it. China looms on the other side of the gate, with planned infrastructure even on themountains!

 

The Waddling Duck. Some day, when the duck dies and goes to Domestic Bird Heaven and meets the rooster that chased me in the Trongsa Dzong, they’re going to have such a good laugh about the woman who was a total sucker.

 

Pine-scented roadways, Nagarkot. The place is very similar to Kodaikanal in its beauty. The nights are especially stunning, with 360-views of a star-lit sky.

Pine-scented roadways, Nagarkot. The place is very similar to Kodaikanal in its beauty. The nights are especially stunning, with 360-views of a star-lit sky.

 

Hotel at the End of the Universe. Inspired by Douglas Adams, methinks. And certainly comes close to Douglas's imagination.

Hotel at the End of the Universe, Nagarkot. Inspired by Douglas Adams, methinks. And certainly comes close to Douglas’s imagination.

 

Two boys and a commentary. At the main square of Bhaktapur Darbar square, a UNESCO world heritage site.

Two boys and a conspiracy. At the main square of Bhaktapur Darbar square, a UNESCO world heritage site. Bhaktapur appears larger than Patan Darbar Square, and is more architecturally versatile. As you go deeper into the square, it appears as if time has frozen – the locals still create pottery, embroidered murals and singing bowls, pretty ancient arts.

 

Stone carvings at one of the many temples found in Bhaktapur Darbar Square.

Stone carvings at one of the many temples found in Bhaktapur Darbar Square.

 

Wheat growing in fields on the way to Pokhara.

Wheat growing in fields on the way to Pokhara. The crop can be found growing across most of Nepal. When we went, most of the wheat in the fields was ripe and ready for harvest, so all we saw were fields of swaying Gold everywhere.

 

The road to Tatopani. When we returned from Nagarkot, we halted for the night at Pokhara, leaving behind more than half our luggage because we were going to return to the place and stay for two days. Our next adventure was Tatopani, and from there onwards to Muktinath. I loved Tatopani so much that I stayed back while the rest of the gang rode up to Muktinath. This was the second toughest route to navigate on the entire trip.

The road to Tatopani. When we returned from Nagarkot, we halted for the night at Pokhara, leaving behind more than half our luggage because we were going to return to the place and stay for two days. Our next adventure was Tatopani, and from there onwards to Muktinath. I loved Tatopani so much that I stayed back while the rest of the gang rode up to Muktinath. This was the second toughest route to navigate on the entire trip.

 

A glimpse of the snow-capped Annapurna range, Tatopani.

A glimpse of the snow-capped Annapurna range, Tatopani.

 

The view from our hotel at Tatopani. Off the screen to the right are the hot springs that give Tatopani its name. There are several such hot springs across Nepal. The water is rich in Sulphur and supposedly curative. When I drank a cupful, the taste was pretty metallic.

The view from our hotel at Tatopani. Off the screen to the right are the hot springs that give Tatopani its name. There are several such hot springs across Nepal. The water is rich in Sulphur and supposedly curative. When I drank a cupful, the taste was pretty metallic. P.S: Who can spot the blue truck?

 

The Thakali Thali. One of the highlights of the ride was the standard vegetarian thali one can find across Nepal. The daal is particularly delicious, with a special herb locally called Jimbu adding loads of unique flavour to it. The herb is pretty expensive and is usually imported from Tibet. The rest of the components of the thali are pickled radishes, local greens, a dry dish made with legumes, tomato chutney and potato-bean sabzi.

The Thakali Thali. One of the highlights of the ride was the standard vegetarian thali one can find across Nepal. The daal is particularly delicious, with a special herb locally called Jimbu adding loads of unique flavour to it. The herb is pretty expensive and is usually imported from Tibet. The rest of the components of the thali (from lower right) are tomato chutney, pickled radishes, a dry dish made with local pulses, local greens and potato-beans sabzi.

 

Visiting Devi's Fall at Pokhara.

Visiting Devi’s Fall at Pokhara. Pokhara has many interesting places to visit. The Gupteshwar Caves are stunning, but make for really bad photography. There’s also the Mountaineering Museum which I heard is fabulous, but didn’t manage to go to because we got stranded in the rain.

 

This wishing well is pretty rich - by Nepali standards at least. At Devi's Fall, Pokhara.

This wishing well at Devi’s Fall is pretty rich – by Nepali standards at least. 

 

A night out in Pokhara, listening to a local band doing covers of the oldies.

A night out in Pokhara, listening to a local band doing covers of the oldies.

 

Chitwan, our destination after three days in Pokhara. The Chitwan Wildlife Sanctuary is pretty famous for its wildlife, but the entry is also quite expensive. We could only afford to go to the Elephant Breeding Centre. This was the scenic approach to the rows and rows of open enclosures for the elephants and their babies.

Chitwan, our destination after three days in Pokhara. The Chitwan Wildlife Sanctuary is pretty famous for its wildlife, but the entry is also quite expensive. We could only afford to go to the Elephant Breeding Centre. This was the scenic approach to the rows and rows of open enclosures for the elephants and their babies.

 

Lumbini, the last stop in Nepal before we headed back into India via Basti, UP. The ruins of Lumbini Palace are cocooned within this monstrosity of a structure and totally killed my desire to walk in. Based on the reports from those who did venture in, I didn't miss much. It was exciting, though, to be at the birthplace of Buddha.

Lumbini, the last stop in Nepal before we headed back into India via Basti, UP. The ruins of Lumbini Palace are cocooned within this… this structure that totally killed my desire to walk in. Based on the reports from those who did venture in, I didn’t miss much. It was exciting, though, to be at the birthplace of Buddha.

 

QUICK NOTES

Currency:

1 Indian Rupee = 1.6 Nepali Rupee. Which means that you’ll feel richer in Nepal. Possibly also one of the reasons why a lot of Indian families holiday there. Unlike Bhutan, people here don’t go crazy behind the Indian rupee. Oh, and 500 and 1000 rupee notes are not accepted in most places because of fraud.

Food:

Sekuwa – smoked meat – is widely available and is apparently pretty delicious. It’s an acquired taste for some. Vegetarian food is widely available – the Thakali thali, especially, is available everywhere. Chicken and beef are most common. You’ll find a lot of Chinese and Indian cuisine everywhere, but places that serve authentic Nepali food are a little hard to find.

Accomodation:

Varies from basic to luxurious. Water and electricity are a problem, so carry a torch with you. Most rooms are well-maintained, with western bathrooms and water heaters, toilet rolls and towels.

Weather:

It was pretty hot when we rode into Nepal, but after that it was raining throughout. The weather is mostly pleasant, and bearably cold in the higher regions. I carried six pairs of jeans and plenty of tees. I used floaters for local sightseeing, but for treks and the ride itself, I wore hiking shoes. Carry rain covers for your luggage.

Vegetation:

Sparse. Most of it is cultivated land, with a decent amount of greenery on the mountains. The historical monuments are note-worthy, with quite a few world heritage sites in the country.

Wildlife:

Not sure, really, because I spotted nothing – no birds, no animals, and definitely no yetis.

The road travelled. Less or more is entirely up to you.

The road travelled. Less or more is entirely up to you.

Getting there: Delhi is the most conveniently connected metro to direct flights to Pokhara and Kathmandu. You can also fly to Bagdogra and ride from there.

Go if: You want to indulge in plenty of adventure sports.

Snapshots from Nepal: Part One.

Since Nepal is known for being a 'Hare Rama Hare Krishna' destination, it seemed fitting to make this the opening shot for my posts on Nepal. This is the entire country in a single frame. The woman, however, is smoking a regular cigarette.

And the worries of her age go up in wisps of smoke. A local woman en route Kodari, from where the Chinese border is visible.

Nepal… Hmm, I’m really not sure where to begin. I can never separate the journey from the place on any of my travels. Nepal, however, broke the monotony. I am able to clearly distinguish between the journey through Nepal and the country itself – bizarre as it may sound. The reason’s quite simple – my 2000-plus kilometre ride delivered on the promise of adventure and adrenalin rush more than the place itself did.

Don’t get me wrong – the land of Gurkhas is stunningly picturesque in bits and pieces, but the first and most recurrent word on my holiday was not ‘stunning’, or ‘picturesque’, ‘beautiful’ or other similar adjectives. It was ‘impoverished’. It was the first thing I noticed on crossing the border at Kakarbhitta, and continued to notice throughout the ride – throngs of disabled people, an average quality of life, scarcity of water, power shortage, almost non-existent infrastructure… the works. If the country has any riches, I didn’t see any evidence of it. Not even in Kathmandu or Pokhara. I guess that’s the downside of riding through a country or visiting parts of it that do not have the ‘Tourist’ tag attached to them – you discover the reality behind the image portrayed to the world.

Fishing in shallow waters, en route Janakpuri.

Fishing in shallow waters, en route Janakpuri.

So that’s that about the place. Now about the ride… well, I have one word for it too: crazy. 80% of our journey was an off-road one, riding up steep hills, through parched river beds dotted with parched lands, surfaces covered with inches and inches of mud, slush and boulders. I am happy to say that my spine is fine and my butt isn’t in a rut. It was my first off-roading experience, but enough to last a lifetime – I have sworn off off-roading (for the time being at least). And this time, I didn’t fall off the bike even once or get chased by formidable roosters.

That’s about all I have to say about Nepal. I’ll let the pictures and videos work the rest of the magic. Since a lot of the riding was tricky, I shot a lot with my Moto G phone as well. You’ll know the difference. (Or not, because my phone camera is pretty good too.)

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Rest stop, on the way from Siliguri to Kakarbhitta.

 

At Chaubis, Bhedetar. Everywhere we went, the rains followed. This was snapped at 5:30 p.m. in the evening. Thunderstorms and lightening were the flavour of the evening.

And then there was light. Chaubis, Bhedetar. Everywhere we went, the rains followed. This was snapped at 5:30 p.m. from the first floor of our resort. Thunderstorms and lightening were the flavour of the evening.

 

A wandering minstrel, Chaubis. The instrument is a type of Sarangi, but what I find most fascinating is the way the sound box is shaped – like a shoe. Imagine this music playing to the thunder and lightning show that the weather at Chaubis put up for us that evening.

At the Janakpuri temple, where onlookers listened to an enactment of Sita's version of the Ramayan on a candybox television.

A lesson in mythology at the Janaki temple, Janakpuri, where onlookers listened to an enactment of Sita’s version of the Ramayan on a candybox television.

 

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Sita’s home – Janaki Temple, Janakpuri. The temple, like the town, gets its name from Sita – known in these parts as Janaki. Not surprisingly, a majority of the visitors are women, most of them hanging around the inner sanctum of the temple, chatting, gossiping and exchanging stories.

 

Crispy, gooey jalebis at a breakfast stop on the way.

Crispy, gooey jalebis at a breakfast stop on the way.

 

Smooth tarred roads, the last stretch that we saw before days and days of off-roading.

Serpentine roads, en route Kathmandu. Smooth tarred roads on the way to Kathmandu – the last stretch that we saw before days and days of off-roading.

 

How to lose weight while riding. En route Kathmandu. I wasn’t kidding when I said that Nepal doesn’t really have too many tarred roads.

 

A glimpse of the architecture at the Jal Narayan Temple. The Jal Narayan - a solid-gold god asleep as he rests on serpents in the middle of water - is a remarkable example of craftsmanship, but wasn't allowed to be photographed.

Repairing the time tear, Jal Narayan Temple, Kathmandu. Restrorations at the Jal Narayan temple. The Jal Narayan – a solid-marble god asleep on serpents in the middle of water – is a remarkable example of craftsmanship. Couldn’t photograph it, though.

 

Pashupatinath Temple, Kathmandu. Again, stunning architecture and craftsmanship of the centre sanctum, with giant lions and kings carved out of solid stone dating back to 400 A.D, but couldn't be photographed for two reasons - one, it's not allowed, and two, non-Hindus are not allowed either. Where there is a will, there is a way, though, and I managed to sneak in and look around.

No entry. Pashupatinath Temple, Kathmandu. Again, stunning architecture and craftsmanship of the centre sanctum, with giant lions and kings carved out of solid stone dating back to 400 A.D, but couldn’t be photographed for two reasons – one, it’s not allowed, and two, non-Hindus are not allowed either. Where there is a will, there is a way, though, and I managed to sneak in and look around.

 

Prayer lamps on display at Bodhi Stupa, Kathmandu. I'm in love with monasteries, and was especially fascinated with this display at the base of the stupa. There are many stores, hotels and restaurants surrounding the stupa and the place is quite commercial, but everything just fades away when you climb up on to the stupa and walk around it.

Arranged prayers, Bodhi Stupa, Kathmandu. I’m in love with monasteries, and was especially fascinated with this display at the base of the stupa. There are many stores, hotels and restaurants surrounding the stupa and the place is quite commercial, but everything just fades away when you climb up on to the stupa and walk around it.

 

Patan Darbar Square, Kathmandu. Darbar Squares are massive, open spaces with temples, palaces and civilian residences co-existing next to each other. Patan Darbar Square is five centuries old an is the perfect example of traditions and modern-day living coming together.  This poor lion, however, is not a happy creature what with his majesty being abused by a shameless display of ghutkas.

Majestic no more. Patan Darbar Square, Kathmandu. Darbar Squares are massive, open spaces with temples, palaces and civilian residences co-existing next to each other. Patan Darbar Square is five centuries old and is the perfect example of traditions and modern-day living coming together. This poor lion, however, is not a happy creature, what with his majesty being abused by a shameless display of ghutkas.

 

Giving the wheels a sunset break, on the way to Pokhara.

Giving the wheels a sunset break, on the way to Kathmandu.

We spent a couple of days in Kathmandu and rode on to the highest point in Nepal, the Chinese border and a hotel at the end of the universe. I had a duck for company (what is it with me and birds??) and two snow-capped days in the lap of the Annapurna range. That, however, is for another post. This should whet your appetite enough for you to look forward to Part Two!

Down the Rabbit Hole: 10 Italian villages for the perfect summer getaway.

San Gimignano, Tuscany. Picture via Huffington Post/Minube.

San Gimignano, Tuscany. Picture via Huffington Post/Minube.

Think of Italy, and you think of Quixotic men, flowing wine, sumptuous food, candlelit dinners at quaint roadside cafes and a city that is a living, breathing part of history.

We know the country for its romance and architectural beauty, but it turns out that there are remote, undiscovered places in Italy that are way more charming than the touristy attractions usually associated with it. So here’s a list of the 10 Italian villages that one must visit when holidaying in Italy.

I think I’ll just settle for one of these over the cities – or maybe stay in all of them, because as the Italians say, la varietà è il sale della vita – variety is the spice of life.

Via Huffington Post. Read the full article here: http://huff.to/1h3Xrc1

Picture via Huffington Post, who curated it with help from Minube.

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What is Down the Rabbit Hole?

Remember Alice? And how she went slip-sliding down an innocent-looking burrow? And how she emerged into this fantastic, unbelievable world on the other side – one she never thought existed? Well, starting this month, Potli Baba will go down a special rabbit hole from time to time and stumble upon strange, fascinating worlds that have been recorded for posterity by those brave enough to venture into them. Simply put, Potli Baba is going to curate interesting and marvellous articles, stories and photo essays from the Internet and bring them to you as a series (complete with gift-wrap and ribbon) on the blog. Just for your reading pleasure.

Down the Rabbit Hole: How Europe’s mountain communities celebrate Winter solstice.

Image shot by Charles Freger for his book Wilder Mann. Picture courtesy: Wired Magazine.

Image shot by Charles Fréger for his book Wilder Mann. Picture courtesy: Wired Magazine.

Every year, as winter breaks its stronghold and retreats to make way for Spring, the mountain communities of Europe gear up to celebrate the occasion by shedding their human form and dressing up as animals/birds.

French photographer Charles Fréger travelled across 19 European countries and over 50 villages to document this fascinating culture and compiled it in his book titled Wilder Mann. Just reading the article makes me want to go to the places and be a part of the celebrations – imagine the centuries-old stories that one could find among these people!

This adventure comes via the Wired Magazine. Read the full article here: http://wrd.cm/1hkuy7O

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What is Down the Rabbit Hole?

Remember Alice? And how she went slip-sliding down an innocent-looking burrow? And how she emerged into this fantastic, unbelievable world on the other side – one she never thought existed? Well, starting this month, Potli Baba will go down a special rabbit hole from time to time and stumble upon strange, fascinating worlds that have been recorded for posterity by those brave enough to venture into them. Simply put, Potli Baba is going to curate interesting and marvellous articles, stories and photo essays from the Internet and bring them to you as a series (complete with gift-wrap and ribbon) on the blog. Just for your reading pleasure.

“Tashi Delek, Bhutan.” – Part Two

A 'rare' view of the mountains on the way to Bumthang.

A ‘rare’ view of the mountains on the way to Bumthang.

The story so far: Our ride across Bhutan started from Siliguri on the India side. We rode through Phuent Sholing, Paro, Thimpu and Punakha, gathering many fascinating experiences and seeing many remarkable sights. This journey begins at the ride from Punakha to Trongsa. For Part One, click here.

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Bikes slicing through the landscape.

Bikes slicing through the landscape.

Day 5: Trongsa, 140 km

Saying goodbye to Punakha wasn’t easy, because we had the most fun there. But the ride to Trongsa was one of the most picturesque. It highlighted the different terrains that one comes across in Bhutan. From high cypresses to spindly deodars, pink flowering trees and creepers with snow-white flowers, the mountains had them all. As we moved higher up, the air got thinner and the wind, nippier. Every cell was firing away double-time.

Green pastures that are ideal for cattle grazing.

Green pastures that are ideal for cattle grazing. The little black dots on the bottom right of the picture are yaks.

Trongsa is a compact hill town, with one of the oldest and biggest monasteries in the country. The town also has a museum, which I am told is fantastic.

The mighty Trongsa Dzong.

The mighty Trongsa Dzong.

The monastery was walking distance from the place we stayed at – 300 stairs away, to be precise. After Paro, I just didn’t have the desire to exert myself again. Fortunately, others felt the same way too, so we ended up taking bikes to it. The monastery looks pretty intimidating from the outside, almost like it’s touching the sky. All white and oxidised red on the outside, the colour tones inside are mostly blues.

Inside the Trongsa monastery.

Inside the Trongsa monastery.

The monastery is home to a couple of cats, the calmest of their kind I have ever seen. As I crouched to take a picture of them sunbathing, I noticed a fiery red flutter from the corner of my eye. It was the rooster.

Seconds before the chase.

Seconds before the chase.

Thoroughly fascinated by it, I crept as close as I could to take a picture of it as well. It walked around warily, always keeping an eye on me as I went clickety click. A few seconds later, it moved away in the opposite direction while I continued taking pictures of it. Next thing I knew, the sly fox came straight at me like a homing device, clucking loudly and flapping its wings. The cats were watching the whole thing from their place under the sun and everyone else was too busy trying to figure out what was happening: a rooster chasing a fully-grown woman around the monastery courtyard? Really? I ran for a full 30 seconds before someone decided to intervene and chase the rooster away. And believe me, 30 seconds is a long time when you have a more-than-healthy rooster with a razor-sharp beak desperately wanting a bite of your ankle or any other body part it can get a grip on. And boy, could the damn thing run.

Every toddler has its own personalised pram. :)

Every toddler has his or her own customised pram in Bhutan. :)

Day 6: Bumthang, 90 km

Bumthang was a series of greys, greens and blues all the way. Sunshine was busy playing hide and seek with the houses in the valley, and the people were busy being content.

Cypress trees close to Bumthang.

Cypress trees close to Bumthang.

Yaks grazing on the way.

Curious yaks watching us pass.

We visited the local brewery, where they use recycled Kingfisher bottles for their beer. The most prominent feature of the brewery, though, was the seven-leaf cannabis growing in abundance. Mary Jane’s like a weed (pun unintended) in Bhutan; you can spot it everywhere. The law forbids people from plucking/growing it. The fines are pretty hefty – 50,000 Ngultrum and over five years in jail. There’s also a cheese factory, a fruit pressing unit and a burning lake close by in Bumthang town, but we were too late to visit any of those.

Growing just outside the brewery.

Growing just outside the brewery.

Cheese cubes strung together in a local store.

Cheese cubes strung together in a local store.

Day 7: Mongar, 180 km

Bumthang had given me a glimpse of Bhutanese bird species. While I spotted a few pretty ones, I was clueless about their names. It didn’t help that they were constantly moving, making it really hard to shoot them. That changed on the way to Mongar, though. When we stopped for Maggi (read breakfast), we realised that one of the bikes had a puncture. About an hour and a half was spent trying to fix it, during which time some very colourful birds got comfortable with our presence and went about their flying without worrying about us.

A black-billed Magpie, one of many flying around near our breakfast stopover.

A black-billed Magpie, one of many flying around near our breakfast stopover.

We transitioned from plateaus to mountains again, going all the way up to Tumsi La pass – one of the highest motorable roads in Bhutan. Of course we stopped at the pass for a break. Of course I got off the bike. Of course I took pictures. What didn’t go according to plan was my getting back on the bike again. Because I’m short, getting onto the 500 cc Enfield is like climbing a mountain. I try to appear as cool as possible doing it, but sometimes it’s a serious struggle. On Tumsi La, I almost made it into full sitting position, but my camera bag had other plans. Let’s topple her over by getting snagged on the back seat rod, it thought.

Part of Tumsi La's ground is marked for posterity by me.

Part of Tumsi La’s ground is marked for posterity by me.

Like a puppet, I proceeded to role play my camera’s wicked intentions. I can see it all in slow-mo now: the leg on the other side of the bike slowly moving up as gravity pulled my other leg – by now suspended mid-air – and with it, my body, to the ground. Before I knew it, I had landed hard on my side. No broken bones, just bruises and a throbbing knee, thanks to my backpack. My elbow suffered a very painful scrape, despite my jacket being on. So, yes, there were cloud-covered trees, the chirping of birds, absolute stillness… And in the middle of the picture perfect setting was me, sprawled on my back awkwardly, wondering what the hell just happened.

The rest of the ride was uneventful.

Riding into the clouds after the fall.

Riding into the clouds after the fall.

As one moves along Bhutan, one notices the facial differences among the people. This was most apparent in Mongar, where facial features appeared flatter than everywhere else.

A game of football in progress as we entered Mongar.

A game of football in progress as we entered Mongar.

Day 8: Trashigang, 120 km

Pine forests line the route to Trashigang. We stopped for tea on the way and happened to meet a group of medical administrative officers. I got talking to them, wanting to know more about the country from the locals. I was told that education and healthcare are absolutely free in Bhutan. No matter how serious the illness and where you have to be treated for it, the government will sponsor it. It’s the same with education as well, but there’s a glitch to this – you have to score above a certain percentage to be sponsored by the government for further studies. My next question was an obvious one: how does the country manage to sustain itself if these were free?

What better than the scent of pines to keep you company on your ride?

What better than the scent of pines to keep you company on your ride?

The answer was hydroelectricity. Bhutan supplies power to India’s border areas and other countries. The water was fast depleting, though, a gynaecologist said. Bhutan was beautiful, but global warming and the democratisation of the country were fast changing that. The king was the head of state, but the new round of elections had new candidates with political interests and a hint of dirty games. This was upsetting news, because by then I had fully made up my mind that I would pack my bags and make Bhutan my retirement home when I was done with the ways of the world. I bade the locals farewell with reluctance, wanting to stay and pick their brains about everything remotely Bhutanese. We continued onwards, stopping on the way near the river Manas for pictures while some of us tried our hand at archery along with the locals.

Bhutanese boots, mostly worn by royalty or people during celebrations. They cost nothing less than 3,000 bucks.

Bhutanese boots, mostly worn by royalty or people during celebrations. They cost nothing less than 3,000 bucks.

Trashigang is more Indian in nature and dialect than any of the other towns across Bhutan because it’s closer to the border. It is also the best place to shop for local things. Home to the royal guest house, the hill town offers great views of the valleys and mountains all the way to the horizon, with roads snaking their way around terrains. It rained that evening, and all of Bhutan was a mass of blurry grey, with pitter-patter sounds everywhere.

7:30 a.m at Trashigang.

Early morning after the rains.

I was extremely fascinated with her nose ring. As she walked past us with her little grandson, i asked her if i could take a picture. She smiled shyly, but managed to keep her face neutral while i shot.

I was extremely fascinated with her nose ring. As she walked past us with her toddler grandson, I asked her if I could take a picture. She smiled shyly, but managed to keep her face straight while I shot.

Day 9: Samdrup Jongkar, 160 km

The border town adjacent to Darranga on the India side, Samdrup Jongkar is mostly a place for traders and businessmen to stop for the night. The vegetation is different from most of Bhutan and resembles the Indian kind more.

A river runs through it.

A river runs through it, on the way to Samdrup Jongkar.

Although the mountain views are stunning, the road to Samdrup is the worst of the lot. No surprise that BRO was doing the construction, and we had at least 15 kilometres of really tricky road to navigate.

Back-breaking roads.

Back-breaking roads.

For reasons that I cannot understand, everybody was on a mission to ride their bikes into each other’s backsides that day. Consequently, the bike ahead of us crossed a speed bump at one point of the journey and stopped, so that we had to hit the brakes really hard. The bike skid and toppled over, taking my rider and me with it. My ankle was trapped under at an awkward angle, but fortunately, the bike was lifted off it before any damage could be done. I was holding the camera, so it fell with me, but that too suffered nothing more than a few scratches. Again, had it not been for my backpack, I would have been pretty badly hurt.

Another town on the way to Samdrup Jongkar.

It feels like the houses just spilled down the crevice between the mountains like waterfall.

Prayer flags dot the landscape across Bhutan. This particular location, though, crept up on us out of nowhere. It's a green pasture surrounded by  pure white prayer flags fluttering away. Peaceful and dreamy place.

Prayer flags dot the landscape across Bhutan. This particular location, though, crept up on us out of nowhere. It’s a green pasture surrounded by pure white prayer flags fluttering away.

More than anything else, the fall was unexpected. The rest of the journey went smoothly, though, and the view of the mountains against the seven-leafers growing on the roadside more than made up for the mishap.

A last view of the mountains before we were to cross the border into India.

A last view of the mountains before we were to crossed the border into India.

Day 10: Darranga, 60 seconds

The day we were supposed to cross the border, I visited the Samdrup post office to buy stamps for my dad. Bhutanese stamps are pretty and very colourful, and you must buy some for yourself.

On the walk back, I thought about Leh. About how I was angry to leave because I didn’t want to go back. I evaluated my feelings to see if there was anything remotely similar to it again, but no. The time I had spent in Bhutan was fulfilling and enriching. Most importantly, it was calming. I learnt so much, saw and experienced so much. It didn’t feel alien, and I wasn’t afraid that I would never see it again. Bhutan felt like home. It felt like I would be back. And as I looked back on the mountains, their stillness reassured me of that feeling. I may not go back this year or the next, or maybe even a few years after. But I will go back, and maybe the country will be different in many ways, but still mean the same to me. It will be my retreat to heal and gather myself together.

One sees signs across Bhutan that say Tashi Delek. The meaning of the words is fluid, ranging from ‘welcome’ to ‘best wishes’ to ‘thank you’ to ‘may good things come your way’. When I crossed the border to India, that’s what I said to Bhutan. Tashi Delek, beautiful country, for helping me re-discover myself. And Tashi Delek, so that you may continue to be as content and free and untouched as you are.

In Bhutan, where there are kids, there are likely to be outstretched hands for a high-five, or alternatively, just wave with gusto.

In Bhutan, where there are kids, there are likely to be outstretched hands for a high-five, or alternatively, just wave with gusto.

QUICK NOTES

Food:

Mostly beef, pork, chicken and fish. As you move deeper into Bhutan, fish is difficult to find and replaced by Yak meat. Eggs are available everywhere. Vegetarian options include cheese momos, Maggi, local greens, dal, rice, puris with potato curry and Ema Datshi – the national dish of Bhutan with base ingredients of cheese and chillies.

Accomodation:

More or less standard across the country. The rooms are well-maintained, with western bathrooms with water heaters, toilet rolls and towels.

Weather:

Pleasant. Cold higher up in the mountains. I carried five pairs of jeans and plenty of tees. I used floaters for local sightseeing, but for treks and the ride itself, I wore hiking shoes. Carry rain covers for your luggage.

Vegetation:

Beautiful. Many times, you’ll come across breath-taking views as you take a turn on the road. You can also go trekking into the forests. I’ll probably try it next time.

Wildlife:

Bhutan is 70% forest and protected wildlife areas. A variety of cats, birds and monkeys can be found here. No yeti spotted to date, unfortunately.

Further reading:

I received a copy of ‘The History of Bhutan’ by Karma Phuntsho for review from Random House India during my trip. It’s a brilliant book with A-Z of everything about the country. I’m reading it right now, and I would definitely recommend that you get your hands on it.

tashi Delek, Bhutan. I'll miss you.

Tashi Delek, Bhutan. I’ll miss you.

Getting there: There are flights to Bhutan from most metros, but I’m not sure if these are direct or stopovers. Alternatively, you can fly to Bagdogra and ride from there.

Go if: You want to get away from it all.

“Tashi Delek, Bhutan.” – Part One

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A woman reading prayer beads, Phuent Sholing.

My purpose for going to the Bhutan trip was very clear: I needed to heal. This year’s been one of the worst yet on many levels, and the opportunity to travel to Bhutan came along at the perfect time. In many ways, the country purged me of some monsters, helped me regain my equilibrium and brought me back to life. It welcomed me with open arms and an atmosphere that’s completely devoid of negative energy; after all, when everyone around you is content with their lives, the feeling tends to rub off on you.

The road from Siliguri to Phuent Sholing is mostly bad, but the lush green of the tea plantations alongside the roads eased the trauma out a little.

The road from Siliguri to Phuent Sholing is mostly bad, but the lush green of the tea plantations alongside the roads eased the trauma out a little.

I read somewhere that travelling is like flirting with life, that we would love to stay and spend some more time, but really, we have to get going. With Bhutan, we flirted that way with the places, spending every night in a different part of the country, waking up early each morning, packing our bags and heading out to the next destination. It was exhilarating to be out so early in the day, riding through cloud-cloaked Himalayan peaks and nippy mountain winds.

Happy mornings.

Happy mornings.

It’s difficult to capture the essence of Bhutan – and honestly, I want to keep the country as much of a closely guarded secret as I can because I don’t want it to change, ever – but I’m giving it a shot anyway.

The border gate to Bhutan, from the India side.

The border gate to Bhutan, from the India side.

Day 1: Phuent Sholing, 180 km

Phuent Sholing is the border town and therefore, one’s first impression of Bhutan. Mine was that it reminded me of London in some ways – there are no people yelling and screaming; everyone goes about their work quietly; every building is beautiful to look at, even the petrol bunk is fancily painted with symbols and creatures; and the air is clean. The roads are tarred and smooth. There are hardly any two-wheelers around – almost everyone has a car and it’s either a sedan or an SUV. The Bhutanese are very strong on culture, so you’ll find almost everyone dressed in the traditional attires of Gho (for men) and Kira/Tego/Onjo (for women). What was remarkable was that the difference between the countries was very apparent with the single step I took from the Indian border into Bhutan.

The streets of Phuent Sholing.

The streets of Phuent Sholing.

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Every building is embellished with ornate designs in Bhutan. People spend enormous amounts of money on hiring artists who specialise in  these traditional designs to decorate homes/shops/hotels.

On the way to Paro from Phuent Sholing.

On the way to Paro from Phuent Sholing.

Day 2: Paro, 130 km

Riding through and over mountains, one reaches Paro, a quiet town scattered across a lush green valley. The royal palace is located here, but nobody’s ever seen it because it’s tucked awayon a hill all its own, with nothing around it.

The streets of Paro. This is probably the centre of the town, with hotels and restaurants located here. Most of the houses are further away, scattered across the plain.

The streets of Paro. This is probably the centre of the town, with hotels and restaurants located here. Most of the houses are further away, scattered across the plain.

Kids in Ghos, worn as a school uniform in different colours and patterns.

Kids in Ghos, worn as a school uniform in different colours and patterns.

Paro is also home to the Tiger’s Nest Monastery. Legend has it that a monk saw a tiger flying across the mountains and he wanted to see where it would go. One day, as the tiger was passing by, he jumped onto it and was carried to a cliff. So impressed was the monk by the entire phenomenon (I would be too, especially with a flying tiger), that he decided to build a monastery on the edge of the cliff.

The astonishing art work on the houses across Bhutan, first seen in Paro. The phallic symbol is painted on the outside of houses (and sometimes on doors) too ward off the evil eye and as a symbol of fertility.

The astonishing art work on the houses across Bhutan, first seen in Paro on the way to Tiger’s Nest Monastery. The phallic symbol is painted on the outside of houses (and sometimes on doors) to ward off the evil eye and as a symbol of fertility.

The trek to Tiger’s Nest is not for the faint-hearted. Trekking and I are like embittered enemies, so even though I thought I was mentally prepared for a fair amount of walking, seeing the monastery from the point where I was going to start the climb turned my legs to jelly. My heart nearly stopped. Here’s why:

See the specks of white on the mountain? That's where I had to go.

See the specks of white on the mountain? That’s where I had to go.

So, you have to trek across two mountains – and it’s a bloody steep climb, mind you, with no proper path – and reach the third for the monastery. It’s at least six kilometres one way. I have never, I swear to you, trekked so much or come so close to giving up on living in all my years. With a little help from kind biker souls, though, I pushed myself to reach the monastery. I needed to own and relish that sense of achievement.

On the edge...

On the edge, about a kilometre and a half away from the monastery.

Day 3: Thimpu, 90 km

If Paro’s the older brother who’s more responsible, calmer and sorted, then Thimpu is the younger brother – wild, vibrant and Quixotic. 90 kilometres is like a whole world between them, that’s how different life is in both places. The capital of Bhutan, Thimpu is a cultural melting pot, with textile museums alongside government offices, coffee shops alongside gaming zones in basements, and a whole stretch of the main road cordoned off for an arts and crafts exhibition. In the distance, a giant Buddha looks on, gleaming gold in the sunlight.

Thimpu, as seen from the steps of the textile museum.

Thimpu, as seen from the steps of the textile museum.

While waiting to get our entry permits for the onward journey, I looked at this part of the crossroads and was instantly reminded of the pictures I have seen of European countries.

While waiting to get our entry permits for the onward journey, I looked at this part of the crossroads and was instantly reminded of the pictures I have seen of European countries.

Thimpu is a great place to walk around, because the roads are big and almost traffic-free.

A picture of the royal family at the Arts & Crafts stalls. No wonder they give so much importance to Gross National Happiness!

A picture of the royal family at the Arts & Crafts stalls. No wonder they give so much importance to Gross National Happiness!

Day 4: Punakha, 190 km

The ride from Thimpu to Punakha is beautiful. We rode up some steep mountains, slicing through the clouds covering the slopes. At one point, as we ascended to the Dochu La pass, we were greeted by a most magnificent sight – a series of chortens places in a circle, white and deep red and gold, peeping through the clouds zooming in. The scene took my breath away.

The chortens at Dochu La.

The chortens at Dochu La.

Being a riverside town is half the charm of Punakha. The other half is the Punakha Monastery – the biggest in all of Bhutan, I am told.

Punakha Monastery rests on a sliver of land, with the river flowing by it. Major restoration work has gone into making the monastery the way it is right now, possibly for the royal wedding in 2011. Whatever the case, the monastery is gorgeous. There weren’t too many people around when we visited it, so I explored the place unrestrained. Walking around, I also noticed that some of the rooms inside the monastery functioned as various government offices. As we moved deeper into Bhutan, I realised that this was true of every monastery we visited.

Punakha Monastery.

Punakha Monastery.

The lawn surrounding the river side of the monastery offers a great view of the monastery bridge.

The lawn surrounding the river side of the monastery offers a great view of the monastery bridge.

Our stay in Punakha was the most entertaining of the lot – we celebrated a birthday, miraculously managed to find a cake to cut and indulged in the madness that comes standard with a mini-party. A group of 11 big-ass bikes is an unusual sight in Bhutan, so we also had cops dropping in on us to see the bikes and take a ride. I was highly amused.

"His helmet is so much better than mine...", said the cop, depressed.

“His helmet is so much better than mine!”, thought the cop, depressed.

Little did I know that there were more amusing things in store as we rode on to Trongsa. I was chased around the monastery by a rooster, fell off the bike a couple of times, and had interesting conversations with a group of locals.

For all that, though, you’ll have to wait for Part Deux.

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Eleven reasons to fall in love with London.

Taxi cab driving down Green Park. Most cabs advertise mobile operators, movies, monuments and plays. I saw only a few that were a classic Black.

*It was with equal parts anxiety and eager anticipation that I waited for the clock to strike 1 a.m on September 22. I heard the driver scream for the car keys from the ground floor of where I live. Soon, doors were shut and the big red suitcase stowed. I had my passport, visa, copies of all the papers and mixed bag of emotions that I always feel before a trip. I was off to London. My first international trip with two days of work and eight days of much exploration.*

The trademark red telephone booths of London. Some of them have ‘Call-me’ ads pasted all over them. And no, I’m not putting that picture up because this is a PG rated blog.

London made it so easy for me to fall in love with it. I was taken by the city’s charm, its ready acceptance of me without question (except for my little foolishness at the UK Border Immigration when the officer held up his index finger to indicate that he wanted me to place my finger on the scanner, and I thought he was asking me to look at the camera above me. I smiled sweetly for five seconds at the camera above till he asked me what I was doing… and yes, he laughed his gut out), its history and quaintness. But above all, a handful of things won me over completely.

The war veterans of New Zealand visiting the war memorial at Green Park.

Underground, marvellous, marvellous Underground!

Should London be the body, then the underground is its nervous system, connecting every inch to one another. Not only is the tube the easiest, cheapest and fastest way to get around London, it’s also the one place where you’ll see life in all its colours. Young and old, buskers and corporate men/women, heavy metal and operatic – everyone takes the tube to everywhere. 

The Piccadilly Line starts from Heathrow airport and goes into the city. Figuring out how the different lines work hardly takes time. And it’s super convenient!

“Stand to the Right”. People on escalators follow a rule – they always stand to the right to let people in a hurry run up/down on the left side. The walls on either side are also great ways to figure out what you want to do with your free time around the area.

Michael Jackson at Hyde Park Corner.

The weather’s volatile

Pouring like a burst water balloon one minute and sunny the next, London’s weather gives Bangalore’s a run for its money. Most people who visit or live in the city complain about the gloominess of the weather, but I think it goes very well with the…aura of London. But a combination of rain and strong winds? A fascinating experience, to say the least: On our second day of sightseeing, we walked in the rain across Green Park to Buckingham Palace and had to fight against the wind to get half-decent pictures. My umbrella turned into a receptacle for rainwater harvesting every two minutes and we had to walk with our back towards the palace to stop ourselves from almost flying. It was hilarious. No, really. We laughed so hard, the Queen could hear us! (She didn’t come out on to the famous Charles-Diana/Will-Kate balcony to shush us, though, what with her being too regal and well-behaved and all.) 

Buckingham Palace in the rain.

From cloudy…

… to sunny in less than three minutes.

The city is so quiet

There’s a lot of hustle and bustle in London, but people go about their work quietly. And drivers almost never honk. Traffic is so, so, so well-organised that my jaw drops even now, when I think of it. People stick to their lanes, let pedestrians cross, wait for other cars from other directions to cross, don’t jump signals and above all, never honk despite heavy traffic and rush hour. Like my colleague’s cousin told us on our way to the airport: “the accepted level of aggression on the roads is biting one’s nails, that’s it”. That’s why one can hear every drop of rain falling on one’s umbrella, birds chirping, the wind blowing and ambulance sirens screeching. But walk into a pub and it’s a completely different ball game.

Plays in full swing at Piccadilly. 

Old magazine store at Soho, another place that’s full of life. Awesome restaurants, sex shops and strip clubs all lit up on the outside, clothes stores, markets, glassware, shoes – there’s something here for all tastes.

Piccadilly Circus, full of big, beautiful buildings and bustling bodies.

Dead poets excite you

Westminster Abbey. It’s massive, beautiful and peaceful. It’s the place where generations of kings and queens have been coronated, married, baptised and buried. The prayer area is breathtakingly beautiful, with carved wooden pews on either sides of the wall for seating and flags of various knights hanging above. The ceilings are exquisite and the stories they hold, innumerable. There are chapels for noblemen and noblewomen, knights and ministers within the abbey. But what moved me most was the Poet’s Corner. Rudyard Kipling, Robert Browning, Thomas Hardy, Charles Dickens, even Chaucer’s grave. To think that I was standing within arm’s distance of the literary geniuses of centuries past! It was a dream come true. Oh, and there was Isaac Newton as well.

So yes, three words to describe the Westminster Abbey experience: Don’t. Miss. It.

The London Eye: the first sight to greet you as soon as you step out of the Westminster underground station. 

The Big Ben as seen from the park adjacent to Westminster Abbey. You can see a hint of the London Eye on the top left corner of the picture, behind the black building.

Westminster Abbey entrance. As intimidating as it is from the outside, it’s beautiful, peaceful and huge inside. Audio guides give you a tour of the entire abbey. I saw the tombs of King Henry the Third, King Edward the First and Third and Richard the Second, along with Mary, Queen of Scots and Queen Elizabeth.

Poet’s Corner, Westminster Abbey. Chaucer was the first poet to be buried here, sort of starting a tradition that was later followed the burials of literary figures like Charles Dickens and T.S.Eliot.

Every building is full of character

London’s best seen by foot. There are hop-on, hop-off tours that take you around the city in a day, but I would recommend walking. If you make Piccadilly Circus your base camp of sorts, all other landmarks are within 20 minutes walking distance from there. The advantage of this is that you’ll see other buildings that aren’t landmarks, but are just as old and just as beautiful. We walked down Parliament Street and, my goodness, that is one lane that makes you take a second – and a third – look at every structure you pass by!

10 Downing Street. (“Hello Prime Minister, hello! It’s meeee!”)

Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery. Only managed to see them by night, and that too from a distance. Maybe next time.

Catching a drink in a pub at Parliament Street. Walking down this road was an absolute delight because of the beautiful architecture.

One of the many universities of Oxford.

 

Nature has so many colours in her London wardrobe

Despite the cold weather, there are fresh shades of green everywhere, interspersed with bunches of flowering purples, oranges, yellows, reds and whites. We were lucky to see the beginnings of autumn, so trees were turning a deep red, bright yellow or dull brown. It’s a lovely visual treat. 

Trees in shades of yellow lining the roads of Weybridge.

Red creeping up the wall of a tavern in the countryside. Took my breath away.

More colour!

The beginnings of Autumn.

Fish and chips, mate!

‘Nuff said.

Yummy in your tummy. Food’s never pre-seasoned, so you have to add salt to most of it.

 

The English Countryside is delightful

This is where London gets its charm from, I’m telling you. We managed to see some of it on our way to Bath. The countryside is everything you imagine it to be: lush green pastures with plump white, brown and black cows grazing, sheep heavy with wool munching away at the grass against blue skies and an endless vista of planes and mountains, wild berries and Lavender growing on the roadside, quaint little stone huts and bakeries and farms with vines growing all over dotting the landscape… *Sigh*

Hello Cows!

Hello, roles of hay!

Hello Swan!

Bath is beautiful

It’s quiet, colourful and feels like you’ve entered a part of England that belongs in the 16th century. One can spend hours sitting on the benches behind the Bath Abbey eating ice cream and listening to random opera singers perform for gathering crowds in the hope of being spotted by a talent scout, or buying souvenirs, or walking the tiny lanes around the town, or admiring the glassworks that the place is known for.

The Roman Bath, the main attraction of Bath. It was closed when we reached, but i managed to get a sneak peek through the walls.

The evening we were at Bath, an opera singer just walked up, placed her speakers, her music system and her cards around her, and began singing next to the Bath Abbey. The setting sun, nip in the air, swaying flowers, and fabulously constructed town came alive with her haunting voice. I didn’t want to leave.

A hand-blown glass store in Bath.

Bath Abbey against the late evening sky.

London takes good care of its heritage

The respect Londoners have for their heritage and rich history shows clearly in how well they’ve maintained the city. Every bulb that lights up the London Bridge works, every street lamp shines, every road is free of potholes, every bit of the old architecture remains unblemished and every monument is well-preserved. The audio aids they provide visitors to places that need guided tours is amazing. Having never experienced it before, I wondered why we never adopted such a simple yet effective method of telling stories about our monuments. It was only today that I discovered that apparently, some places in India are starting to do that.

River Thames with the London Bridge in the background. We wanted to go on a Thames cruise, but none of them were available, so we had to make do with seeing other people cruising along sipping tea and listening to jazz and seeing all of London’s sights.

The Tower Bridge parting to let a big ship pass by. Watching it go up and then come down to transform into a regular-looking road was one of the most fascinating experiences I’ve had.

The Tower Bridge by night.

Little Venice, the name for the canal full of Gondolas and colourful boats outside Paddington Station.

Windsor has some very pretty sights

Windsor Castle is apparently the weekend getaway for the Queen and pretty as a picture. It overlooks most of London and is full of richly furnished rooms and a whole hall of arms and artillery. St.George’s chapel has marble sculptures that are absolutely exquisite. There’s one in particular that I just cannot get over – a scene showing a dead maiden (a princess or noblewoman, I cannot remember) covered completely by a shroud, except for a part of her hand that peeks out from under, as women covered in shrouds mourn her passing and her soul, flanked by angels on either side, flies to its freedom towards Heaven. The craftsmanship is so delicate and detailed that the marble is sculpted to look like shrouds clinging to the bodies and a white sheer fabric falling along the curves of the free soul. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

We attended evensong in the prayer room, seated on pews where once England’s clergy and royalty sat, surrounded by shining plaques of several knighthoods and a mesmerizing tapestry of Jesus with his disciples. Add to this the church choir, and the whole experience gave me goose bumps.

Once out, there are lots of quaint little places to eat in, market streets to walk down and a part of the Thames to admire.

Inside the premises of Windsor Castle. I was amazed by the riches on display here. I asked a skirted 50-something lady standing guard in the queen’s drawing room about what it felt like to be surrounded by such beauty and opulence and she told me, “At first, you’re like oh my gosh this is so awesome and i’m so lucky, but then you start getting used to it. And I’ve been here for over 13 years, so…” Wow. I would kill to be surrounded by such stuff. Photography isn’t allowed inside the castle, unfortunately, so i have no visual proof of its beauty.

St.George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle. I loved the interiors more than i loved Westminster Abbey.

The magnificent pipe organs of St.George’s Chapel. Everything in the chapel gets a dusting once a year.

Homes of the knights of the orders, opposite St.George’s Chapel. And no, they don’t walk around in armour and Victorian suits and all. They wear jeans and a t-shirt like normal people.

Life as usual, outside Windsor Castle.

Sunset by the Thames, Windsor.

There’s a little bit of India everywhere

London is full of Indians, so you won’t really feel out of place. East Hampton, the part of London where most Indians reside, is like the map of India scattered over a handful of streets. Sarvana Bhavans, Anand Bhavans, Kerala supermarkets and food joints co-exist with Hyderabadi Biryani and much, much more. And yes, Indian bonding is big. When we went for an Indian breakfast one day, we were warned to not speak English because it’s frowned upon. People prefer speaking in an Indian language (preferably Tamil).

East Hampton or Shivajinagar? Good question. :)

A different window display: Students looking for accommodation outside a store that displays ads and messages for spaces.

So that’s that. London’s a big city, so we didn’t cover a lot of places because we didn’t have enough time. Whatever I did see, I loved. My verdict? You must visit London at least once in your lifetime. And since I’ve done that already, I have all the time in the world to plan another holiday there!

Marching Guard, Windsor Castle.

Getting there: Flight only. Preferably British Airways because it’s damn comfortable.

Go if: You love history, architecture, cultural experiences, photography, food, the countryside and want to experience the lives of people who ruled us once. :)