tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50313859345709658122024-03-04T23:13:05.853-08:00Tales of a Wanderbird“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.”InfJunkiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16910209443918225825noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-11598751155447111592015-02-28T06:28:00.001-08:002015-02-28T06:37:52.494-08:00Gulmarg: Mountain lover's and Skier's paradise<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Having planned an end of winter trip to Kashmir, we
immediately set off to Gulmarg from Srinagar airport after landing. For skiing
enthusiasts and for those who are looking for a vacation in the snowy mountains,
Gulmarg is the place to be. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enroute to Gulmarg</td></tr>
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The roadtrip from Srinagar to Gulmarg, seeing snow-capped mountains for the first time, will be etched in my mind for
a long long time. The journey is via Tangmarg where you have to either take a 4 wheel drive or get chains attached to your vehicle's wheels as the roads are
mostly snowed in. As the road is barely wide
enough for two vehicles, it may take anything from 40 minutes to 2 hours. This however, gives you more time to take in the view of the valley spiraling down below with tree tops sprinkled with powdery snow on either sides. <br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
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They say Kashmir is ‘Paradise on earth’. I see snowfall for
the first time in my life, those tiny white flaky drops of magic and I
stop wondering why. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trees sprinkled with snow</td></tr>
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We checked into Khyber, which lays claim to the best view in Gulmarg. With a room facing the magnificent Mount Apharwat,
many hours were spent having hot chocolate and watching our very first
snowfall.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from our room</td></tr>
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Once you get accustomed to the cold, one has to take the Gondola ride to Phase I and Phase II, to
reach atop Mount Apharwat, a height of 14,500 ft. This Gondola ride is supposed to be the world's highest. As you go up in your
Gondola, you can see<i> </i>the commercial
area of Gulmarg<i>, </i>and watch<i> </i>tiny lines on snow being drawn by those
skiing their way down. Our guide who had come along with us for the day pointed out tiny wooden cabins being made by the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gurjar" target="_blank">Gujjars</a> to live in when the winter is over. Skiing, or Sikkiing as
the locals very endearingly refer to it, is the most popular activity around here, with visitors from India and abroad flocking in for their dose of adventure.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Phase II</td></tr>
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As soon as we reached Phase II, regular breathing became a difficult task for sea-level dwellers like us, let alone any physical exertion. Our guide pointed out to peaks far away, our first view of Pak
occupied Kashmir. Having grown up hearing stories about the various wars waged with Pakistan, actually seeing the land which we lost and the military build-up everywhere (including on top of Mount
Apharwat), the true
intensity of it all hit home. Seeing the extreme conditions which the Indian
army battle to keep the rest of the country safe, it is difficult not to feel
immensely proud and respectful towards those brave set of people. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Phase I</td></tr>
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Phase I is pretty abuzz with a lot of activities such as
skiing, snow cycling, snow mobiles around. But the price they usually quote is
quite absurd and after a lot of haggling (true to Indian spirit) you will
see the price dropping to almost half. This seemed to be the case wherever we
went in Kashmir.<o:p></o:p></div>
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During summer, it is said that wild flowers will be
everywhere, giving it the name ‘Gulmarg’ – path of flowers. As for us, we were
content with the picture snow had painted us.</div>
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<i><u>General Info</u>:</i><br />
<br />
<i>Stay</i>: A lot of budget to luxury options are around to cater to the budget skier as well as those who want a luxury stay in the mountains<br />
<br />
<i>Getting around: </i>Being a small town, major attractions are walkable if you don't mind the cold, heavy wind. Alternatively you can hire a cab at Rs 1000 for 5 attractions or snow ledges are also available which comes at 300 rupees from one point to another<br />
<br />
<i>Clothes: </i>You can either bring your winter wear or rent everything from shoes, gloves to jackets at around 500 - 1000 per pair<br />
<br />
<i>Activities: </i>There are a lot of activities around here, but be prepared to haggle a lot. Skiing training sessions are around 3000 rupees and if you want to ski down the Phase I that will set you back by another 3000 rupees. Snowmobiles are available for 1000 rupees, even though the ride will last only 15 minutes, the breath-taking views make it worth the while. </div>
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Aswathihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371805534505903334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-42719611785734648682013-08-15T05:08:00.000-07:002013-08-15T05:08:05.362-07:00My most memorable Shatabdi journey<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>This is the unedited version of the story that won the 'Holidays by Shatabdi' contest by Lonely Planet in June 2013. You can read the published story <a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.in/2410/editorial-column/holidays-by-shatabdi-winner-3-aswathi-vengallur?utm_source=FB_Page&utm_medium=FB_Page&utm_campaign=Blog_LPINDIA">here</a></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.1500000000000001; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was 1997, I was all of ten years, travelling to the great Indian North for the very first time. After losing myself in the fascinating Mughal stories my Dad told us while travelling around Delhi, we were headed to Chandigarh. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shatabdi was going to be our ride from Delhi to Chandigarh. I was excited about travelling in chair car for the very first time, but mostly it was because my mother had informed me that these tickets came with food included. Being an ardent lover of train food, I was happy about not having to throw a tantrum to get the parents to buy food on train. It was to be a short journey of around 3 hours and all of us boarded the train. Being the youngest in the family gave me the privilege to the window seat and there I happily sat looking out at the la</span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">nds </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">whizzing by</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> while munching on my breakfast.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Around two and a half hours later, I informed m</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">y mother that I had to go to the toilet urgently and she dutifully escorted me to the train’s toilet. It was already occupied and there was a small occupied sign that appeared on the door when it was locked from inside. A door that could tell you the toilet’s occupancy, to my ten year old mind it was like magic! So when I got in, I had to lock it so that the door could inform the outside world that it was occupied. Of course, my mother who was waiting for me outside could do just the same.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After completing my business, I tried opening the door and soon found out that the door had gotten jammed. I asked my mother to open it from outside (nothing a mother cannot do when you are that age) and when she also could not, panic mode set in and loud bawling followed. Soon enough I could hear my entire family outside trying their luck at opening the door frantically since we were to reach our station in a few minutes. Finally thankfully someone from the pantry came and had to break the lock and bust the door open. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The brief moment of happiness when reunited with the family was followed by a lengthy scolding from the parents and to my amusement a few other passengers we did not know. We finally got down at Chandigarh and continued with the rest of our trip.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.1500000000000001; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have had a lot of Shatabdi journeys since then, but this definitely is the one I will be telling my grandkids about.</span></div>
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Aswathihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371805534505903334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-23713222516149965802013-06-01T01:35:00.002-07:002013-06-01T01:35:30.056-07:00Andaman: Of Island hopping, underwater adventures and different shades of the sea - II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />..continued from <a href="http://travelogous.blogspot.in/2013/05/of-island-hopping-underwater-adventures.html">Part I</a><br /><br /><b>Havelock Island </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b></b><br />The next day we presented ourselves at the jetty at the earliest only to see a long queue of impatient folks waiting for the 8 am ferry to Havelock. The few policemen (and women) who were trying to control the crowd very often stopped to chit chat with the Islanders in the queue. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, evident in the way they were enquiring about family matters and kids’ studies, the kind of closeness in societies one doesn’t see in cities anymore with people caught up in their own busy worlds. <br /><br />If there was any true test for Indian-ness of people there, the mad rush to get onto the ferry was it. Those who were patiently waiting in the queue till then turned into a mad frenzy once the ship arrived. After doing something similar to what one does to get onto a Virar fast from Dadar, and a small controversy with the captain throwing out people who were literally pushing the others out, later, we finally got in. <br /><br />The rest of the 30 minutes journey was pretty uneventful except for the beautiful sea around us and the plan in my head to think of ways to move and settle down here.<br />Havelock is the most popular tourist destination amongst the islands of Andaman and after the peaceful stay at Neil Island, this felt like getting back to the city. <br /><br />After dropping off our bags at a resort, we rushed to the famous Radhanagar Beach. Radhanagar Beach, which was once voted as ‘The most beautiful beach in Asia’ (in the year 2005 and still riding on that wave), is a quick 20 minutes ride from the area where most resorts are located at. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinXxrLKSqJUEcCtAPqzyQU3dCjsOCNDZGKXv8DX0spXv_1zMdgbXz4CRCWOjEnNlcnzJLzvWRptL4zmLo0lmXRS0jD-JbqgHcC56QUX04VKukvuBE_vmoIakRuvQLQhJpt45Pzfw3tbraj/s1600/Radhanagar.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinXxrLKSqJUEcCtAPqzyQU3dCjsOCNDZGKXv8DX0spXv_1zMdgbXz4CRCWOjEnNlcnzJLzvWRptL4zmLo0lmXRS0jD-JbqgHcC56QUX04VKukvuBE_vmoIakRuvQLQhJpt45Pzfw3tbraj/s640/Radhanagar.JPG" /></a></span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Radhanagar Beach</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> I fell in love with the beach the minute we got there. We could see the beach extending till both ends of the island, with the mangroves outlining the land and the sea trying to reclaim it. Wherever you looked, the sea seemed to don a different shade of blue. Soon after we jumped into the sea, dark clouds came threatening along. The minute it started raining almost everyone started running to the little bamboo huts for shelter, but hey, we were already drenched and proceeded to stay in the sea with much glee.<br /><br /> The next day we woke up, all excited to go Scuba diving. We had pre-booked with the well-acclaimed Barefoot group for this and by ten we presented our nervous selves to the instructors. After getting into the wetsuit and a quick boat ride later, there we were in the sea being given instructions. Now, I am an avid and confident (at times a bit too much) swimmer, but suddenly it hit me that we were going underwater and panic attack followed. I remember mumbling to my instructor about not being able to make myself do it and then I saw that the rest of the folks in our party were calm as cucumbers, all set for the dive. Sudden change to I-have-to-do-this-or-never-live-this-down happened, and a few minutes later we were swimming into the open sea to look at the best place to dive. Once we went under the water, I was slightly hyperventilating (surprise! surprise!).</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> However, as soon as I saw the school of bright yellow fishes swim by, a feeling of wonder overpowered every other sense of mine. Orange colored urchins, red and blue corals, the beautiful sea anemones and the fishes, the bright beautiful fishes - it is such a fascinating world, it suddenly becomes real how wide and diverse underwater life is!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We
set off to Kalapathar beach the next morning. The ride to the beach has
tall, thick and very green trees of the tropical rainforest on one side
and the blue waters suddenly jumping at us at every other turn.
Kalapathar is a pretty small stretch of bright blue waters and due to
the fact that it is crocodile infested, we did not get into the sea. We
sat there for some time, just looking at the beautiful sea, thoughts
wandering.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9rMHi66OdheGsRZ1udv5j-vzfLLOW1GbgZcrf9RZpaU1PrUFMVCJEgg4Rb1FnMPU3VgK2XyexcJzrPSEj6_cRdG3ufoXaaHAO9cKGDkpo7xhKoJ1pWSNzURbCimHjHwpr24XKc-PK1U1/s1600/Kalapathar+Beach.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9rMHi66OdheGsRZ1udv5j-vzfLLOW1GbgZcrf9RZpaU1PrUFMVCJEgg4Rb1FnMPU3VgK2XyexcJzrPSEj6_cRdG3ufoXaaHAO9cKGDkpo7xhKoJ1pWSNzURbCimHjHwpr24XKc-PK1U1/s640/Kalapathar+Beach.jpg" /></a></span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The beautiful Kalapathar Beach<u><br /></u></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One of the things we were looking forward to most was the seaplane journey back to Port Blair. Now, for the past two to three days, the weather had been pretty rough with the skies pouring down every now and then. We had gone to the seaplane office to inquire the day before and we were told that the seaplane to Havelock had been cancelled for the past two days and when they said it was still uncertain if they will fly tomorrow, in my mind I saw an enraged Poseidon. <br /><br />Much to our surprise, the weather that morning was fine and the trip was on. So we “checked in” at the cutest little airport which was more of a bamboo hut (mind you, our luggages were thoroughly checked with utmost seriousness), with the 4 other passengers who were from Havelock. A shy smile and a chocolate offering to the kids with them later, they asked us about our vacation and if we were having a good time. The father, who had been born and lived his whole life in Havelock, spoke to us about how it was one of the hidden gems of the Andamans until recently, when tourism suddenly boomed. He mentioned that his house was along the shorelines and it used to be similar to what the farther ends of Radhanagar beach is currently, lined with mangroves earlier and then the tsunami struck when the sea reclaimed a lot of their property. For him, ferries and seaplanes getting cancelled seemed like a regular ordeal.</span></span><br />
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took a two minutes boat ride to a floating platform in the midst of the
sea where we excitedly waited for the seaplane to show up. The minute
we could see if from far, there followed a lot of excited
finger-pointing and cries from us, which was the matter of much
amusement for the Islanders. The plane landed on the sea and we pretty
much hopped on. It seated nine people including the pilot and co-pilot,
and with butterflies in our stomach we took off from the sea. We watched
as we went higher and higher, the sea embracing the island from all
sides, little white patches wherever the waves hit the rocks and them
outlining Havelock Island and the other many small Islands we flew over.
We saw the ferry in the middle of the sea, slowly making its way to
Port Blair. This is one of my favorite memories of the whole trip. Of
course, the Islander kids slept through the whole journey! </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">View from the seaplane that took my breath away </span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Flying over another Island, view from the Seaplane </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We landed in Port Blair and made our way back to our hotel, dropped off our bags and wandered around the Island since we had already spent two days covering most of it earlier. The next day’s plan was to visit Ross Island, Coral Island and Viper Island. Ross Island’s proximity to Port Blair made it a smart choice of place to stay for the British guards of the Cellular Jail, and the remains of their settlements can still be seen. Ross Island which by virtue of acting as a cover from the sea on one side to Port Blair, we were told was one of the major reasons why Port Blair was not heavily hit during the Tsunami of 2007. Ross Island took most of the brunt of the Tsunami and a lot of the settlements were destroyed during this period.The sea was still very rough and all the trips to the various islands were cancelled. In fact, we heard that not only the seaplane, but the ferry itself from Havelock to Port Blair was cancelled due to rough seas leading to many people being trapped there. I remember thinking, we have the best technology to travel on land, sea and air but when nature wants us to stay where we are, we stay where we are. It just goes to show how our lives are decided by the different shades of the moody sea. <br /></span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />The ten days spent on the various Islands have been an eye opening experience for me. I went expecting a relaxing beach vacation, but came back with so much more. The sea has always been a favorite of mine, but being on a small island, watching the sunrise on one end and getting to the other end just in time for sunset, now that is the kind of experiences that makes Travelling what it is.</span></span></div>
Aswathihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371805534505903334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-69186459031905212282013-05-11T03:45:00.002-07:002013-05-11T08:10:02.345-07:00Andaman: Of Island hopping, underwater adventures and different shades of the sea - I<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Andaman& Nicobar Islands, for a perennial beach lover like me, was like
stepping into a dream – one made of white sandy beaches with the sea so clear
and blue, it put the skies to shame.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Andaman and Nicobar Islands are a group of around 600 islands
(out of which only 38 are inhabited by humans) in the Bay of Bengal, which even
though is a part of India, is closer to Thailand and Indonesia. Port Blair is
the only Island connected via air and it is reachable via flights from Chennai
and Kolkata.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Taking off from Chennai, we flew over many tiny islands as we
neared Port Blair and watched from above the blue waters and the green slices
of land embedded within. After this tiny peep into what we were in for the next
ten days, I was buzzing with excitement.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqn06Y4gbAWAEKoWqqC4bdW7PSk0L1N_6Nq7t0PFUzyHkaqRi_1HaQiByZnYZJyyyWvOxDFgL5LMESGgREguJ6XlpoOE5uqcpUHmInUBw4p6y1EnutZRZJ0vjaPia0xKuL7dMDkqZuas/s1600/view+from+plane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqn06Y4gbAWAEKoWqqC4bdW7PSk0L1N_6Nq7t0PFUzyHkaqRi_1HaQiByZnYZJyyyWvOxDFgL5LMESGgREguJ6XlpoOE5uqcpUHmInUBw4p6y1EnutZRZJ0vjaPia0xKuL7dMDkqZuas/s640/view+from+plane.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>First sight of the Islands</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">After months of planning and pouring over travel blogs and
sites, we had chosen a hotel which is at a walking distance from the airport.
The entire experience at that hotel was pretty much what we saw throughout the
Islands – everyone we met were extremely helpful (Bengalis and Malayalis form a
majority of the Islanders and being a Malayali myself did help) and more
importantly, genuine. We met a few locals along the journey and when they asked
us if we liked the Islands, it seemed like it was important to them that we
liked their place and had a good time. The kind of trust and friendliness shown
by the people there is unnerving for us mainlanders (Ripos Das, a travel agent
we reached out to book tickets on the seaplane, went ahead and booked it for us
before we even made the payment!). I guess this attitude comes from being part
of an Island community where you have to rely on each other to get through
daily life and this sense of community has sort of become a way of life for the
natives, a friend who hails from there once told me.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Port Blair</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Port Blair was the base for our visits to other places in the
Islands, as it was the only place with connectivity to the Indian mainland in
the island archipelago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We enquired at the hotel lobby about places to visit and were
given the directions to Cellular Jail and a few museums nearby.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We proceeded to the Aqua museum and ooh aah-ed at the marine
life captured there and made mental notes so that we could identify them when
we went Scuba Diving. There also might have been an unhealthy obsession with a
fish which seemed to be fascinated by what the bubble maker in the tank did to
its posterior area.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The museums there were a good way to get to know the Island
in depth. Legend says that the name Andaman is derived from the hindu monkey
deity ‘Hanuman’ who is believed to have used these islands as stepping stones
on his journey across the sea to Sri Lanka to deliver Rama’s message to Sita.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">It has such an interesting history with the various
indigenous tribes some going as back as the hunter gatherer times and the
Sentinelese, the last tribe in the world to be living in complete isolation.
Most of the other tribes have more or less become assimilated with the rest of
the population even though tourist visits to most of the Nicobar Islands are
still not allowed. In the 1900s, it became important in Indian history due to
the part it played in the Indian freedom struggle, when it became the location
of a jail where the freedom fighters were exiled, and later during WW II, it
became a Japanese colony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On the first day, by around 5 pm it was pitch dark, and we
were scratching our heads wondering “Where did the sun go?!?”. Then we found
out that the sun rises at 4-4:30 am and sets by 4:30 – 5 pm in the Islands.
Needless to say our bodies remained confused about the whole deal and by the
time we got used to sleeping at 9 pm (there is not much to do post sunset since
nightlife is almost nil around there), it was time for us to get back to the
mainland. For weeks post getting back, 9 pm sleepy time was followed, much to
the amusement of many.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">We then proceeded to the Light & Sound show at the
Cellular Jail. Seated in the midst of the common area, the show spoke about how
the Cellular Jail was constructed in the most deviously creative manner. It has
7 wings arranged like the spokes of a cycle wheel, each of which had tiny
cells, each containing one prisoner. Extreme lengths were taken to ensure that
the prisoners could not mingle with or speak to each other such as the front of
each wing faced the back of another. It is one thing to study and read about
the freedom struggle and the atrocities forced on the freedom fighters but
seeing the cell of Veer Savarkar where he spent 10 years, 10 of the most
important years of one’s life, from 26 till 36, or seeing the museum with the
endless photographs of people who passed away during their struggle here and
seeing the small room in which they used to hang prisoners, is a whole
different experience which hits you hard.</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><b>Entrance to the Cellular Jail</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">It made me think of how much these people sacrificed for the
country, what vision they must have had for the nation and how they let down
they would be if they saw the current
state of the country which is divided by religion and driven by corruption?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;">Neil Island</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first island hop from Port Blair was to Neil Island. We
were glad to have booked the ferry tickets early on, since the ferry was pretty
much packed. It was very easy to identify the tourists, who were busy running
around the ship, most of them trying to get the best possible shots of the sea
and the Lighthouse, and the bored Islanders, yawning and sleeping off in the seats.
There was also one old man selling I:heart:Andaman T shirts to the happy-to-buy
tourists.</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><b>Riding the waves </b></span></td></tr>
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to reach the level of tourist madness seen at Havelock, the most popular island
in the Andamans. We checked into our place in Hotel Tango, one of 2 or 3 places
to stay at Neil Island, a bamboo hut right infront of the Laxmanpur Beach.</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Beautiful sea near the Natural Bridge, Neil Island</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are only a handful of roads throughout the Island and
we quickly arranged for a scooty to help us hop from one beach to another. The
folks at the resort were very helpful in planning an itinerary and our first
stop was the Natural Bridge at one end of the island. It was a pretty cool
natural structure which is reachable only during low tide.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Post lunch and siesta, by 4 it was almost sunset and we
proceeded to Laxmanpur Beach. After an adventurous two wheeler ride through the
wilderness with hardly any roads, we finally got there. The white sand was so
soft, it would put Persian rugs to shame, thick mangrove forests lined the
shore till the eyes could see and the orange rays of the setting sun glazed
across the blue waters. There were a handful of others scattered across the
beach, but everyone seemed to be lost in their own world, possibly enchanted by
the beach as much as I was. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><b>Blue, White & Green and a sunet I will never forget at Laxmanpur Beach</b></span><br />
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Aswathihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05371805534505903334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-22093653169410731912012-11-22T09:40:00.002-08:002013-05-11T03:40:57.256-07:00Goa & the Art of Self-discovery<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Old Goa with the beautiful churches for admirers of Portuguese
architecture, beaches crowded with families looking for a good vacation, beach
huts on secluded beaches with soft sand for ones looking to get away from it
all or if hippie crowds and a bit of ‘heaven’ that you are looking for, Goa
showcases herself in whatever manner you expect her to be, and more.</span><o:p style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></o:p></div>
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I have has been to Goa a few number of times, thinking of each visit is
like deep diving into memories of various phases in my life. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There was the time during engineering days, we were a big
bunch of students excited to be there under the pretense of an ‘Industrial Visit’. The trip majorly consisted of visiting and ticking off the list the
major tourist attractions in Goa – the churches, old, big and beautiful, which
never cease to bring me some kind of peace, the famous beaches –Baga, Calangute
and a quick trip to the famous ‘Dil Chahta Hai’ point (I can see everyone of my
generation who has been to Goa nodding along). For someone who had
been pretty much the ugly duckling throughout her life, this was the phase
during which my braces came off and to my embarrassment (and mostly secret
high) a random not-creepy guy hitting on me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Then there was the Goa visit during post-graduation times,
the inner wild child stepping out and making up for the lost times. And of
course, a walk along the beach, getting to know a certain someone which at this
point seems to be turning into a life long journey <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">From getting caught up in a traffic jam at 1 AM to having a
cab driver tell us ‘Drugs try kiya hai? Ek dum mast hai! Sharab toh kuch bhi
nahin’, I got to know Goa much deeper this time. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Arambol</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With great stay options in and around, Baga is the
quintessential crowded beach lined with great shacks and fantastic water
sports (protip: while bargaining always start at 50% of what they are saying). Calangute
is the beach nearby similar to Baga with sports activities and great Goan style
restaurants facing the sea (Souza Lobo is not to be missed!)</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Sunset at Mandrem Beach</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Arambol, in North Goa, is a good 30 minutes long drive from
Baga/Calangute the beach you go to if
you want to peep into the hippie culture Goa once so lovingly embraced. It gets mostly foreigner backpacker crowds
(one part of the beach is lined with basic amenity bamboo huts) and en-route
you pass by a few small stretches of secluded beaches as well. During this
journey is when we came across Mandrem beach, which pretty much turned out to
be the discovery of our trip. With a sole restaurant named ‘End of the Universe
restaurant’ (hat tip to Douglas Adams?) with good food and a few bamboo huts right
on the beach, this is the ideal beach vacation we all dream about on Mondays.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>A line of stalls at Saturday Night Market</b></td></tr>
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Anjuna, near Baga, is best known for being host of the
famous Saturday Night Baazaar (‘the world’s local market’ as they like to call
themselves) is one of the must-do’s while in Goa. Having roots in the hippie
flea market that arose near Anjuna during 60’s, this has become one big flea
market party, colorful and vibrant and wonderfully weird.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Fort Aguada, near Vagator Beach, is a joy to be at during
sunset. It is around 20 minutes drive from baga and is usually free from
crowds. Sitting on the edge of the the broken fort, looking down at the Vagator
beach, I remember thinking ‘This Life is not too bad at all’.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b> View from Fort Aguada</b></td></tr>
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The most recent trip was basically eloping from the
corporate life into something that was familiar and fun. We stuck to blissfully
doing nothing by the beaches and such simple joy it is, the Goan way of being
laid back and taking things slow, our own ‘dolce far niente’. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Getting there</i>: Goa
is well connected by rail and road. By road, it is an overnight journey of
close to 12 hours from Mumbai as well as Bangalore. While buses are frequently
available, trains are not too many and one needs to plan well in advance and
book tickets if planning to travel by train.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Where to stay</i>: The
most convenient location would be Baga or Calangute. You can find a lot of homestay options as well as hotels around here. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Getting around</i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">: Best
way would be to hire a bike (Rs 300-350/day) or a car (Rs 500/day) and explore
Goa on your own.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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InfJunkiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16910209443918225825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-49105427032126300972011-09-02T22:04:00.000-07:002013-05-11T03:43:13.525-07:00Gokak : Of mills and (water)falls<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Gokak, a quaint little town, around 70 km from Belgaum is
home to Gokak mills which is where my Uncle works. So that brought us here for an Independence Day long weekend trip from Bangalore.</div>
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The car journey from
the railway station was spent playing hide and seek with the river and ooh- aah
ing at the old world charm of the English style cottages inside the Gokak Mills
compound.</div>
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The mills which was started during the British Raj in India,
later got taken over by the Tatas in ’57 and is now owned by Gokak Textiles
Limited of the Shapoorji Pallonji Group. They say the British recruited
inmates from TIhar Jail to construct their cottages and to work in the
mills. This explains the old world English style
buildings and cottages everywhere.</div>
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Nowadays, the mill is the major source of employement for the residents of the town.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Gokak Mills</b></td></tr>
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From our house itself
we could hear the rumbling of the majestic Gokak falls, which is formed by the
river Ghatprabha running through the Gokak town. Once we settled down, the
evening was well spent walking around exploring the place starting from the
park facing the river on one side.</div>
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It seemed like every other family from nearby villages/towns
were here to appreciate Gokak falls’ beauty as well, there were family picnics
everywhere.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Beautiful Gokak Falls</b></td></tr>
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The Gokak falls is a pretty majestic gesture by the River Ghatprabha and adding to the
charm is the hanging bridge right on top of the falls with a brilliant view of
the river flow henceforth. There is a very old river-front temple dedicated to
Lord Mahalingeshwara, built in the later Chalukyan style of architecture.</div>
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We went walking past the mills, past the Campbell house,
which is a big English Cottage with a brilliant view of the waterfalls (apparently for the VVIPs and guests of the
MD of the Mills), to the Voltar Rock from where you can get a good view of the
falls, it was almost sunset when we reached and you cannot but give in, sit
down and watch her run her course.</div>
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Little trivia: Sunil Gavasakar’s dad used to be an employee
at the mills for 30 long years, there is a playground dedicated to both of
them.</div>
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The next morning armed with good ol’ hindi songs from the
80’s, we were off to Godchina Malki waterfalls which is this series of small
waterfalls forming a step like phenomenon.</div>
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On the way we must have gone by at least 2 or three schools,
with kids being formed into a line for the independence day flag hosting, girls
in pigtails cycling off to school giving us shy smiles in reply to our waves,
cornfields with small (happy) sunflower fields here and there, women with their pallus and pots over their
heads, walking in the middle of the road… “Samaa hai suhaana suhaana”, Kishore
Kumar crooned in the background.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Godchina Malki waterfalls</b></td></tr>
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The Godchina Malki waterfalls in her morning glory, we went
early in the morning (around 10) to get there before the other handfuls, is
breathtaking to say the least. As you walk, getting closer and closer to the
falls, you can slowly start hearing the gurgling and then you take a turn and
there she is, flowing so gracefully. These
sights however well caught on camera do not do half as justice to the real
thing, the peace that comes over you. </div>
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Tales from an amused aunt at how there are birdie nests on
every window sill, waterfalls and corn fields, Gokak is a place what it is because it is so
off the usual tourist radar and has been able to retain her unique flavor of
history. And for us, it was an Independence Day well spent getting to know at
least a bit of the real India.</div>
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<i>How to get there:</i> Gokak is approximately 550 Kms
from Bangalore, which is 13-15 hours of drive from Bangalore. There are frequent
buses to Belgaum which is 2-3 hours from Gokak (There is just one bus that runs from Gokak till
Bangalore). You can also take a train and get down at Gokak Road or Belgaum. </div>
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<i>Where to stay</i>: There is one place to stay called ‘Hotel
Gokak Resort’. Being a place that does
not get too many tourists, I don’t know how good it would be. </div>
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InfJunkiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16910209443918225825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-81351918318174476492010-12-12T03:54:00.000-08:002013-05-11T08:01:18.098-07:00Matheran: Of foggy woods, gurgling waterfalls and rains that painted the hills green..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">Matheran, one of the most beautiful hill stations near Bombay, in my opinion is I guess what resulted when God dropped his green paint all over the canvas (Then again, so is Kerala).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">It is weird how my first memory of Matheran is...Well, not mine. My sister had gone on a night trek to Matheran a few years back and what I remember vividly is her saying how wonderful it was to look down from the top and see the valley all lit up with the many many fireflies. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">I have been to Matheran twice, once last year right after the monsoons and this year during. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">The first time I went was right after the monsoon and it was just a day trip. We left early in the morning, after a series of unfortunate events including mixing up Neral and Nerul stations, 5 hours later we reached the foothills of Matheran. A horse ride to the market and a light lunch later we decided to walk around. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">There was the lake, the wild yellow flowers all around, the breath taking view from Louisa point and the echo point. There was rappelling going on, scary, between two mountains and only one among us had the courage to actually go through with it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">The highlight was the Louisa point. We walked and walked through the dense trees and we had absolutely no idea what we were in for. And then, we were there! Beautiful meadow with flowers scattered all around, you can almost hear people on the other side, the echo point. It fills you with serenity, that all you want to do it to be quiet and be there, in every way. We left after watching the sunset.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">This time around, we made sure it was during monsoon and we stayed for two whole days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">The cab drive till the foot hills gave us a little preview of what we were in for. The clouds looming over the mountains, the tip you can hardly see because of all the fog. We walked in the drizzling rain (oh the joy!) and the fog made sure we couldn’t see beyond 50m at times and reached our hotel by the time it was dark. The roads were all slushy and slippery with all the rain and the horse poop (trekking shoes please, unless you want your feet to smell like horse shit), but it is pleasant on your ears that the only sound you can hear besides the swooshing of the leaves are the horse’s clip-clop hooves every now and then. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">The next two days were kept aside for exploring Matheran. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">The market was about ten minutes from our place and from there we decided to move towards the charlotte lake. From the last time, I remembered a cliff near the Charlotte Lake, this time around the fog was too thick, we could just see the shadow of the lake and the going to the cliff edge was outta the question because the earth was too slippery. We missed the beautiful carpet of flowers that people were going mad taking pictures of last time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">Walking along, through the woods, one realizes Matheran is one of the best kept hill stations just for the reason there are no vehicles allowed. There are roads diverging all throughout and with hardly any signboards, you just have to go by your gut feeling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">So, we just kept going. The walk in the woods is the best part about Matheran I feel, because take away the horses that come your way every now and then, it’s just you, him and the whole wide world. We walked for hours and yet the cold/fog keeps you fresh, the woods keep you going. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">The Louisa point as I remembered from last time was a beautiful stand alone meadow with yellow wildflowers and trees scattered around. The air is that of silence and contemplation and you can see the echo point across the valley. I was in for a surprise when we reached Louisa point this time. The monsoon had drawn a sensual blanket all over. The long tall grass had dew drops on it making it slippery and dangerous as it was sloping towards the valley, not that we could see it because of the fog. There were people venturing into it carefully, but we weren’t too plucky and choose to sit around watching the fog play hide and seek with the valley.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">Nearby is the Lion’s point which true to its name has a large rock shaped like a lion’s head. From the lion’s point also there is a fabulous view of the valley and the river below. We sat around next to the lone leafless tree, squinting our eyes trying to figure out the ‘lion’ in Lion’s point.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">Then we were on our way to Sunset point, lost our way and ended up somewhere else. It looked just the same; there was a couple happily clicking away each other’s pictures to glory. Not wanting to be ‘kabab mein haddi’ we left them in their own world and moved on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">Matheran apparently is one of the favorite weekend getaways for couples and it is pretty obvious if you observe the crowd as well. With plenty of ----around, the various points and the paths that lead to it are beautiful and deserted; the crowd is small compared to the other options from Bombay. Then there is the cold that makes you crave for warmth. Hmm, I guess I can see why.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">Finally, the Sunset point. Not that we stood a chance of witnessing sunset with all the fog. But you can see the several mountains that close in on Matheran and because it was monsoon, the very many waterfalls- the small ones, the tiny almost-there ones, and then there was this really long/high one. It is indeed one of the good things in life to watch from a distance a waterfall take life, go in and out through the rocks and join the lake down below. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">And me, come December chills, I will be packing a good book, a cozy blanket and good music to go with the mood and be off. Again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">How to get there</span></b></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">: Get down at Neral station on the central line. Matheran is around 20 km from there and there are plenty of share cabs available from the station till the foothills (Rs.60). From there-on no vehicles are allowed, the options available are the toy train, horse ride (bargain. A lot!) or a healthy hour trek till the market (recommended). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">Where to Stay</span></b></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">: We stayed at Hotel Woodlands (around 2k per night) which is a ten minutes walk from the market. Decent place, with good food. There are lot of not-too-expensive places providing good home food. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">What to see: </span></b></span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">There are almost 35 points to see around Matheran. The map is printed on the back of the ticket or you can pick up a copy of the hotel. And half the fun is walking from one point to another, getting lost in the woods. One full weekend would give you perfect time to see everything at your own pace. </span></div>
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InfJunkiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16910209443918225825noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-69757139958306812002010-08-15T06:12:00.000-07:002010-08-15T06:15:30.125-07:00Bombay!Oh Bombay, dear Bombay, where do I start?<br /><br />I moved to Bombay almost a year back. And Oh boy, did the city grow on me or what. Moving to Bombay from Trivandrum was a major major change and initially I did hate the sudden fastening up of everything. But then again the city has her charm; she will seduce you and make you fall in love with her.<br /><br />The city that welcomed me with open arms and her mood swings that is the infamous Bombay rains, swept me off my feet with (I am tempted to say spirit here, but I won’t, because spirit of Bombay has been overdone millions of times) the freedom she stands for.<br /><br />There is the Sea you can run off to whenever you feel like, entire Bombay feels like yours when you are one of the handful of people at Marine drive early in the morning; the wonderful second hand books at Matunga that has tales of its own to tell; the Madras Cafes and the Urban Tadkas; the pubs and the discs when you are in the mood for some loud fun and the quiet peace of nature at Lonavala and Matheran. Take a ferry from the Gateway and bam! you can have the beach weekend you are craving for (there are too many beaches to choose from: Be warned!).<br /><br />Want to see the real Bombay? Dadar station or Victoria Terminus is the place to be. You will know why Local trains are called as Bombay’s lifeline. Intimidating initially with the uninterrupted free flow of people busy in their own worlds, one might get used to all that in due course of time, I suppose. The good thing about the mad rush is that it makes you huddle next to the person you are with, hold on to their hands perhaps so that you don’t get lost. Travelling in local trains is the true Bombay experience. I still remember with pride the day I travelled alone in a local :) <br /><br />Then there is Colaba, with all the bright colorful stuff girls would go wide-eyed over, the handbags, the chappals (better hone your bargaining skills, ladies), fake antiques, the endless firangs and what not. Wait, it gets better...Leopold’s café, the mouthwatering desserts at Theobromas (Food of the Gods, indeed!) and more for the post shopping-spree tired soul. <br /><br />For the art lover, there are the museums and the well established theatre framework. The Kala Ghoda Arts fest- with 9 days of theatre, dance, music, literature, street food and performances is Bombay’s very own street carnival. Then there is the love-it-or-hate-it-you-can’t-ignore-it Bollywood. And the pleasant surprise of running into a celebrity (even if they might not be on your favorite list). Dropping off bombs like you “ran into” Shabana Azmi or Aishwarya Rai the other day, does sound pretty cool, trust me. <br /><br />Bombay is just so much more than any of this; Bollywood or the gateway and Taj or the yummy street food or the “spirit” put together. Like a friend puts it, “Her allure is like that of a stunning girl you have excellent chemistry with, have dinner with, but can’t have more of.” <br /><br />I have fallen in love, and not just with the city. But my dear Bombay, you will always be my sweetheart.InfJunkiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16910209443918225825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-18190486797618228122010-05-27T21:40:00.000-07:002013-05-11T07:54:59.505-07:00Kihim: Of ferry rides, seagulls and (almost) private beaches...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Beaches have always been one of my favorite things. The place I grew up in, Trivandrum has a couple of beaches. From an over enthusiastic kid with dad holding my hand carefully to hanging out with college friends till dark… I have all sorts of memories associated with beaches. Growing up in a city with beaches has done nothing to dampen my fascination with them. I’m as much in love with them as I always have been.</div>
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Kihim beach, near Alibaug is one of the very easy weekend getaways from Bombay.<br />
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We had come to hear of it from a friend who had been there and loved it. So the next weekend, yearning for some relaxation, we decided to go to Kihim.<o:p></o:p></div>
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One can take a ferry from the Gateway (Rs.65/person) straight to the Mandwa jetty and the ride itself is quite delightful. Best thing would be to leave in the early mornings, the refreshing morning breeze and if you are lucky enough you might be able to catch the seagulls playfully trying to catch the food crumbs being thrown at them and also because most of the hotels check-in times are 10 in the morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But we could only leave in the evening and it was past sunset once we reached the Mandwa jetty. From there one can hire a Rik (Rs.150) to go till Kihim and look around for a place to stay. As it is still very much a non-commercialized beach destination, there is less of hotels and more of cottages with a very warm homely appeal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We finally got a cottage by the night and settled in. It was right next to the beach, with a tiny little shack right in front, in case we wanted to sit back and let the sea wave over our minds. After a while, we fell asleep with the sound of waves whispering sweet nothings from far.</div>
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The morning called for exploring the beach. The single most best thing about Kihim beach is that there is hardly anybody around, so it is almost like having a private beach all to yourself.</div>
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We did not go deep into the sea as we were warned that there were rocks throughout. The beach in itself is a pretty good sight and we walked for some distance, resting on some rocks every now and then. The Bombay building coastline/skyline can be seen vaguely, making you feel like you are almost there and here at the same time.<br />
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The place we stayed at had very good home-made food (at a very reasonable rate as well) and we had our lunch, sitting on the benches in the shack while watching the sea.</div>
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By evening, there is very low tide and sea recedes in a lot. The sand is soggy as if with the memories of the waves and when you walk over it at times makes a squishy noise with water spurting out. There are rocks everywhere and all are covered in moss which looks good in pictures but I personally did not like it because it made the rocks all slippery and slimy and not tough like the way a ‘rock’ should be.<br />
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The view of sunset is beautiful, but what I found even more beautiful are the amazing patterns seaweeds (I think) left on the sand that were uncovered by the low tide. Could very well be the scribblings of a mermaid who had to go back along with the tides.</div>
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There was parasailing happening nearby, but it was neither on the land nor on water (Hiranyakashipu anyone?) and was not going as high as I would have liked either. So we decided to give that a skip and just walk on the beach watching the sunset.</div>
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Soon it was time for us to leave or we would miss the ferry from Mandwa taking us back to the Gateway of India. The same Rik came, picked us up and we were on our way back to Bombay.<br />
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Mandwa beach looked inviting, but we sadly did not have time and took a rain check. There were some small boats (yachts?) docked on the jetty and a photo of them against the sunset makes a pretty good vacation picture.</div>
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Even though it is not the best getaway from Bombay, there is the advantage of having lots of other beaches near-by and the possibility of beach-hopping.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As for me, I will always remember this trip. As they say, it's all in the company :)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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InfJunkiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16910209443918225825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031385934570965812.post-85113745305763104872010-02-02T12:21:00.000-08:002013-05-11T07:52:31.870-07:00Aurangabad: Of caves, impregnable forts and the poor mans Taj<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Even while being all excited about the trip to Aurangabad, I was a little worried if I would be able to appreciate the world famous Ajanta-Ellora caves the way it’s meant to be, thanks to my knowledge (or lack of it) of architecture and paintings.</div>
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Being the very punctual beings that we are, we reached the bus stop by 10 and the bus walas being themselves, reached by 11.30. And then the fact that I just cannot sleep in a bus didn’t make the night look too appealing, but thanks to a good conversation the night was saved and the sleep deprivation made up for.</div>
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Saturday morning and we were off to Ajanta. The weather was ..err, very romantic. It’s the kind of cold which doesn’t call for a jacket, but rather an arm around your shoulder.</div>
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The view point, where we went to first, was where the English soldier John Smith while on a tiger-hunt chanced upon the Ajanta caves which had been hidden in the dense forest for centuries. His names been made immortal thanks to his signature carved into a pillar in one of the caves.</div>
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Ajanta. Be prepared to be overwhelmed.</div>
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Besides giving a glimpse into their times, it teaches you patience, what attention to detail really means and what not. From the ingenious way of reflecting light using a smooth metal onto the water collected inside the dark caves to chisel their way into history or the fact that 20-30 generations toiled hard to achieve this level of perfection, everything is a story on its own.</div>
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We had to take an “environment-friendly” bus from a certain point to get to the caves and trust me, the only thing environment-al about the buses was the fact that they were all painted green.</div>
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Ajanta, which is about 110 km from Aurangabad city, is a group of rock-cut monuments from 2nd century BC. It’s a series of 27 caves, the last couple of which are incomplete.</div>
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The first thing that strikes you as soon as you enter the caves is the sudden change from the blaring sun, we went there in the afternoon, to the cool comfort of the caves; not even the best of the airconditioners can give the comfort and peace mother nature provides.</div>
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Thankfully we got a guide (from cave 1 itself), which is something I would strongly recommend if you want to do some justice to the magnanimous effort that has been put into it.</div>
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There are paintings and sculptures in every cave, lit beautifully with a warm yellowish light that gives it all a life of its own. Huge statues of Buddha in various stages of meditation adorn every cave. The guide pointed out many influences, such as a cave which is built almost like a cathedral or the one which had some Greek architecture thanks to emperor Asoka’s grandmother, a Greek princess. Seems like the world was indeed a small place even in those times.</div>
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Ajanta is all Buddhist caves and all the paintings, sculptures have Jataka tales, life and times of Gautama Buddha. Among the many many sculptures the one that struck me the most is the one depicting Buddha, after attaining Nirvana, coming back to the wife, Yasodhara and son he left behind 7 years ago; as a sadhu asking for alms. It is said that he left her in the middle of the night to seek enlightenment; I kept thinking what Yasodhara would’ve been through and how her story is one that in unspoken and incomplete. Would she have been perfectly happy to give up her husband and family all for the greater good or would she be secretly resentful of the fact that she was denied of the companionship of a husband and a father for her child?</div>
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The aura inside these caves is such that you’re compelled to just close your eyes and imagine them patiently chiseling their way to their own personal nirvana. One can easily spend an entire day cave-hopping; there certainly is something very very alluring about dark caves. But then come 5.30 and you are (forcibly) done for the day.</div>
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It’s a long drive back to the city and I loved it every bit as Ajanta itself. Fields on either side, with few trees, not too many, just enough to see the earth and sky meet somewhere far far away, yet so near...with windows rolled down, the cold air adding to the beauty of them all. Having someone to snuggle next to and keep me warm would've been perfection. Made me want to pull over and spent the entire night lying on the fields looking up at the star-studded sky.</div>
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“You'll remember me when the west wind moves</div>
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Upon the fields of barley</div>
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You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky</div>
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As we walk in the fields of gold....</div>
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..Many years have passed since those summer days</div>
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Among the fields of barley</div>
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See the children run as the sun goes down</div>
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Among the fields of gold”</div>
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Once we got back to the hotel, like it is with big groups, there was some confusion; but mix happiness, some confusion and a little vodka and you’ve got yourself a bunch of laughing hyenas.</div>
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And because of the tight schedule for the day after, we called it a night and went back to our own private little kingdoms.</div>
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Sunday morning and we were off. First on the agenda was Dautalabad fort, of Mohammed-bin-Tuglaq. High school history flashback kicked in: “something something introduced coins something..” My history teacher would’ve been so proud *sniff*</div>
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The fort’s defense mechanism really is something. I remember somebody telling me it was so good that the only way the Mughals could conquer it was by stopping the inflow of food and grains into the fort and thereby leaving them no option but to surrender. We climbed up for some time and then reached this maze sorta structure, from where you need a guide’s help because it’s a dark passage ahead.</div>
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As you move along, the road splits and apparently while the enemy soldier would be trying to decide which way to go, hot oil would be poured over from above. If he were to survive that there are holes in the dark passage from within which the spear-men would poke them to death. As if it was not enough, the path again splits up and meets after sometime, but it’s so dark that the enemy soldiers often ended up killing themselves, it’s said. We were all blown off by the ingenuity of it all.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjenmLnrych-MGdK4zuxyEeubrfltqTdmBAyLC1NkZIMw0CYoUq80sSFW-_Wq5lwhVVfKQ9RIHMpI3rpF8JRT3gHYvDyHCASfo1VpPZxWcAyxvO9XSYf5GdBBIh7CK9zbU-EDjWBXjA8/s1600-h/100_0682.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433753845124980434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjenmLnrych-MGdK4zuxyEeubrfltqTdmBAyLC1NkZIMw0CYoUq80sSFW-_Wq5lwhVVfKQ9RIHMpI3rpF8JRT3gHYvDyHCASfo1VpPZxWcAyxvO9XSYf5GdBBIh7CK9zbU-EDjWBXjA8/s640/100_0682.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /></a><br />
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Then we started climbing up again, the highest point which is about 600 feet high, boasts of a big cannon. Even though the cannon isn’t much to talk about, the view from up there was worth it. But you might want to take lotsa water if you don’t want to end up like us, almost considering manhandling a little girl just to get some water.</div>
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We had to hurry and have a quick lunch because we had to get to Ellora.</div>
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Ellora again is a series of caves, 35 to be accurate, we went to the most famous Kailasnath Temple first (Cave 16). I remember reading somewhere that it’s the biggest monolithic structure in the world. Its made out of a a single rock and carved from top to bottom.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmESSSL9-zGAa4LCEE9HDEjY8NmJ5l_Zs8bLShGBq3D3vejiAt0Z1_lBnjLSqLnSIkT-gpznIlMaJtVIFhzP91BRkBiD834hdkD8nVxZOJeKnl8kEIAuga_cAu5qiQizYyK_qJvuqf4c/s1600-h/100_0735.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433754665596760114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmESSSL9-zGAa4LCEE9HDEjY8NmJ5l_Zs8bLShGBq3D3vejiAt0Z1_lBnjLSqLnSIkT-gpznIlMaJtVIFhzP91BRkBiD834hdkD8nVxZOJeKnl8kEIAuga_cAu5qiQizYyK_qJvuqf4c/s640/100_0735.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="480" /></a><br />
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It is so huge and magnificent; it’ll make you feel ridiculously insignificant. We couldn’t get a guide, so we moved around trying to make sense of things on our own (we could, a little bit, thanks to a friend who had been there before) but other than that what started off as I-think-it-is-Dasavathara ended up with oh-god-these-women-had-such-big-boobs by the end of the day.</div>
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We didn’t have enough time so we had to rush through the rest of the caves, but somehow Ellora (except for maybe the Kailasnath Temple) didn’t have that much of an effect on me as Ajanta did.</div>
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Two days before the trip I had come to know of Bibi-ka-Maqbara (or Poor man’s Taj Mahal as it is rudely called) and was really looking forward to going there. For some reason, I had made up my mind to like it and started taking it as a personal insult when people who had been there told me it looks cheap and not that great.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SX8D22ZJqTQvu51bCoSh9v0lZm34EwoMEL40d65s8NOtCtKq5MjrecLoRGzh8Vf9djlbDJQFNupcNqJGcsQMzPqNmspVU6-Jn8GVWumTmcjRj8i11p77RJswDVF9h4tdLP_D0RiqmZU/s1600-h/100_0783.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433755531385775954" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SX8D22ZJqTQvu51bCoSh9v0lZm34EwoMEL40d65s8NOtCtKq5MjrecLoRGzh8Vf9djlbDJQFNupcNqJGcsQMzPqNmspVU6-Jn8GVWumTmcjRj8i11p77RJswDVF9h4tdLP_D0RiqmZU/s640/100_0783.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /></a><br />
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As you can see, it’s almost the Taj, except maybe less marble and elegance. But then again, considering the fact that Aurangzeb’s son built it in memory of his mother, one has to appreciate the thought. It certainly doesn’t compare to the Taj, limestone’s what been majorly used instead of marble and it has started peeling off, the inside where his mother resides is fully marble by the way, and one can point out faults here and there, but as a friend rightly put it, “there certainly is something beautiful about the imperfections.”</div>
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It was getting dark and time for us to get back, pack up and leave. None of us wanted to leave the laid-back city to get back to the fast-paced Mumbai and the Monday blues.</div>
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And for some reason, by the time I got back, I knew this was a trip I certainly wouldn’t be forgetting anytime in the near future :-)</div>
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InfJunkiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16910209443918225825noreply@blogger.com1