France in the summer, France in early autumn, Goa soon after and I can’t be complaining! It is a hard life and everyone sympathises!
Japan was polite clean orderly with everything in Japanese and you have to love tofu. Everything happens just so. There are no surprises. Kyoto, the city of Buddhist temples, and naturally visits to some of them along the hillside were mandatory.
Moscow, as always, was fascinating with its grandeur and the Zils and Zims have been long been replaced by BMWs, Mercs and Audis. The Tamaras and Irinas of today are svelte, straight from a fashion design magazine and not the ones from Life Magazine of the 1960s. And it was formidable travelling for miles to get to wherever. But Moscow airport was disorganised as always - you never know whether you are going to get on board the flight. A quick mental check about the money in hand just in case one misses the flight is not very comforting.
December in the US was, as always, cold but welcoming; that is after I was able to convince the immigration that I had no intention of staying on and after I had explained what a think tank was. DC was also about exquisite Argentinian wine the Gougenheim Cabernet Sauvignon 2009 with Wild Alaska salmon. Oh heavenly joy.
Dubai was a first time but could not have been much fun in the blistering heat of June. One could see gigantic cranes standing by idle - the slowdown was obvious. London was familiar territory where very serious discussions about the neighbourhood were followed by some even more serious pub crawling ending up at the Spaniard’s Inn in Hampstead. Charles Dickens wrote about it in the Pickwick papers and they say that Keats wrote his Ode to a Nightingale here as he sipped his claret.
Tel Aviv and Jerusalem were hard work starting from seven in the morning till crash time at night. Oh those Israelis... But both in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem there were far fewer policemen on the streets as compared to Delhi.
The French have a word for their holidays. Depaysement. Translated means leaving your country/region behind and adapting to local surroundings. Adapt. Merge. Become incognito. Imbibe. So in Bordeaux, go for the Margaux rouge although the man from Bourgogne would swear by his wine. In St Tropez a person must have the right kind of clothes or a lack of them, to display the right kind of figure, otherwise wiser to stay away and one is bound to be noticed for wearing too many clothes. France part one was about bonding and about enjoying the summer in the valley between the Vercours, Belledonne and Chartreuese mountains in the Alps. It was also about imbibing the wine and the cheese. France part two was wine from Val de Loire and more cheese and finally that most elegant city, Paris where a great deal happens and great deal could happen.
You just cannot visit France without having depaysement with its culture of food. as in bread and baguettes, salades, the main course and the dessert and the cafe , its wines from Bourgogne, Bordeaux or Val de Loire. Its cheeses and it was perhaps de Gaulle (or was it Churchill) who said that a country that produces three hundred and fifty varieties of cheese is not easy to govern. Sarkozy is the latest to discover this. Food in France is both an art and a religion which makes Christianity the second most important religion and Islam the third. So I imbibed the first religion with great enthusiasm. And the restaurants.- don’t ever forget the restaurants of France whether it is the Closerie des Lilas in the 15th District where Ernest Hemingway spent a lot of time, or the La Gare in the 16th built on what was a train station or the La Petite Chaise the oldest restaurant in Paris (1686) down rue de Grenelle. Or in the Alps the Auberge just beyond the golf course of Correncon en Vercours. You have to walk all the way to have the most exquisite omelettes ever. Or the tartes and quiche at the Tarteline in Grenoble or the fish at the restaurant l’Est in Lyon.
When it snows in Champagnier
The French Alps on the way to Chanrousse the ski resort
A four day stay at the charming 13th-15th century farm house - Ferme de la Ranconniere in Crepon, Normandy not far from the coast where the Allies landed in 1944 was a wonderful experience. Crepon had a population of 205 and when the ten of us arrived, the population increased by 5 percent. It did have its cathedral with the soldiers of the Second World War buried there, one boucherie, a small bar and a barber shop. That was the village centre. It was in the battles around Crepon in 1944 that Company Sergeant Major Hollis was awarded the VC. A double espresso at a road side cafe in Bayeaux town was exquisite. The aroma still lingers.
A Bayeaux street
The Baueaux Catherdal associated with Thomas Becket the Archbishop of Canterbury who was a Norman.
Ferme de la Ranconniere at Crepon village looked like this...
Goa teaches you depaysement differently. So it was barefoot beachcombers on Baga beach at sunset and trying tiger prawns at Brittos. Over rated, I thought. Maybe should have tried the pizzas at Fiesta’s but the ‘foreigners’ were keen about soaking in the local flavour. Goa also teaches the meaning of siesta.
The Airport bus at Delhi was full of mehndi & lal chura brides in jeans or khakhi capris looking happily incongruous with the chura climbing all the up to the elbow and mehndi bharey feet in sneakers . Being traditional and practical. Then in the bus there was Permanent Pout in mithai Pink not talking to her Groucho in Grey. Got off the wrong side of their bed maybe? Groucho-in-Grey was to later distinguish himself when he ventured into the aircraft loo but forgot to bolt the door. The lady who unsuspectingly followed.....
It’s amazing how many men sleep with their mouths open. I counted eleven that day on the flight to Goa.
Did the mandatory sightseeing. Fort Aguada for instance. Rugged and austere. Built by the Portuguese in 1612 for security and commerce. Quite unlike our Red Forts which served little strategic purpose and were really dainty palaces with their Diwan e Khas , Diwan e Am & their khwab gahs. Artificial brocade pink saree with sneakers and a funny hat at the Fort was depaysement Indian ishtyle. Then the Sahakari spice farm, the Mapusa spice market, the Salim Ali bird sanctuary and the dolphins. True family bonding.
Three weeks of bliss in France and no thoughts, not even strategic yet the world carried on. How dispensible! In France I noticed happily they didn’t cover India on their TV or news; in Goa they didn’t cover Dilli! Even NDTV or Times Now or whatever wasn’t to be seen. So peaceful. And all was still well with the world.
And how come the Goans had such wonderful roads even in their villages while we don’t even in our national capital. But in Dilli we had CWG and a lot of stories about the games. .
Next time around we must travel with a camera; cell phone photos are just not good enough.
For those interested in the good things in life, this was it ....
Ranaji bhejeo ....
For those wanting peace and quiet
Sunset at Baga beach
For those who want to travel differently it was ....
James Bond’s new Aston Martin on the way into Goa
2011 was different. It was “a stay at home year”; some losses, some gains, like in life. Maybe 2012 will be different – there will surely be some gains and some losses!
Happy New Year to all who read this!
Author : Vikram Sood
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