(Some weeks ago my parents and sister traveled through parts of northern India. Before they left, when I asked my sister to keep in touch through her mobile, she replied that she would be “on roaming” so would prefer to send SMS messages rather than talk. What follows – in unedited form – is the full set of messages I received during their trip; all messages, save one, are from my sister, who figures in my contact list as ‘H Cell’)
Continue reading “An SMS travelogue”
Category: Travelling
A Weekend in Milan
There was a small English bookshop next to the hotel we were staying at in Milan. On the evening of our second day, after a round of shopping and walking in the city, I decided to visit the shop. When I entered I found two old men talking in loud voices. There was no one else around, and seeing me the younger of the two stood up: “How can I help you?” Continue reading “A Weekend in Milan”
U.S. media circus
I arrived in the United States of America for a two-week vacation shortly after Barack Obama won the Presidential election.
The inflight newspapers, both English and German, carried headlines heralding a new era. At the Newark airport immigration desk there was a levity in the manner of the young immigration officer that I’d never seen in my previous visits to this country. (“You’ve shaved your mustache!” he said, looking back and forth between the photo on the passport and the person facing him.) Outside the airport we saw cars with banners displaying ‘Obama / Biden 08’ in blue, white and red. Continue reading “U.S. media circus”
Temple visit
(Part of a series. Other parts: one, two, three)
After Brussels, the plan was to drive to Berlin and spend four or five days there. There was to be a stop on the way, in a city called Hamm in northern Germany. You probably would not find it in the tourist guides; its attraction lay in a detail that made it special to us: the town was home to a Hindu temple, the largest of its kind in Germany. Continue reading “Temple visit”
Diary of a visit – 3
(Third part of a series; first and second)
Day 4 – Brussels (Continued from previous entry)
In the evening, after we got back from the trip to the Brussels city centre, Dad and I went for a walk in the neighborhood. Google Maps indicated that a little distance from the apartment there was an irregular blue shape – a water body; I hadn’t seen that side yet, and we decided to explore. The walk took us across a main road with moderate traffic into a residential zone with tall modern apartments spaciously laid out in green surroundings, and a few streets with old buildings that seemed to grow out of and into each other. A little later we reached the “water body” – a large pond bordered with a patch of green. Continue reading “Diary of a visit – 3”
Diary of a visit – 2
(Second part of a series; first part can be found here).
We – Mom, Dad and I – were walking on a quiet, narrow lane near the Grand Place in Brussels when we were approached by a man who seemed to be looking for directions.
“Gare du Midi?”, he asked, pointing at a map he had opened across his arms.
He was a round figure, short, plump and bald. His movements were quick and designed to attract attention. I assumed he was nervous. Continue reading “Diary of a visit – 2”
Diary of a visit
The Brussels skyline is shrouded in mist. Tall buildings in the distance appear as hazy outlines, as if a film of translucent paper was covering a photograph in a book. It has been drizzling on and off through the day, with temperatures bordering 15 degrees celcius and the wind chill making it seem like winter. Mom and dad are taking things bravely: they managed a few hours outside with just a thin sweater on. Continue reading “Diary of a visit”
A weekend in Paris
I was in Paris last weekend. The main intent was to meet my cousin and his family who live in London and were visiting Paris over the weekend. I had not seen them in years; Paris seemed like a good meeting place.
It was a short journey from Brussels, about an hour and half. On the adjacent seat the middle-aged lady, of Spanish or South American origin, appeared stiff and serious; conversation seemed improbable. I spent time looking out at the rolling fields, green and yellow and occasionally punctuated by windmills of the modern kind, and looking through my tiny “Artistic Paris” guidebook, trying to decide how to spend the afternoon before meeting family for dinner.
Spanish Holiday – part 3
On clear days, the empty beach made it seem like we were on an uninhabited island in the middle of the Pacific.
Continue reading – Photo Essay: Spanish Holiday part 3
Spanish Holiday – Part 2
The beach wasn’t anything like those seen in advertisements of beach resorts, with fine golden sand, palm trees bent seaward and women in bathing suits. This one was full of pebbles, rocky in places and mostly empty. It had, however, one distinguishing trait, something that gave the landscape character: after a straight stretch the beach curved along a section that jutted into the sea, and this section had an old tower, in ruins and abandoned.
Continue reading – Photo Essay: Spanish Holiday Part 2
Parmanu 