Fri - December 5, 2003
The Last 24 Hours...
You just knew the jet lag would be
hell!
The flight out of Calcutta was great! It's quite
incredible how re-circulated airplane air can seem as sweet as that in the
Rockies - when one is comparing it to the foul brew we'd been breathing for the
past week. Also, the flight was quite empty....so we got to stretch out and try
to sleep. I think I managed a couple of hours...but Amber...still not quite
satisfied with her heaping doses of Bollywood, helped herself to yet another
sing-and-dance fest.
We landed in Singapore at 6am local time and were pleased to find that the hotel we'd stayed in on the outward leg was quite reasonable (Singapore Airlines had paid the previous time). We piled into the shuttle and marveled at the unbelievable cleanliness of the place. We couldn't actually check into the hotel until noon but they let us store our pile of luggage with the bell captain while we went off in search of our $1 breakfast. I think the ladies at the booth were quite happy to see us again - at least I think so as we had no idea what they were saying. However, there was a lot of smiling going on....
After breakfast and a not nearly strong enough tea, we hailed a cab and went in search of a much-missed Starbucks Frapuccino. These things really are all over the place so we found one without much difficulty. However, even one of those didn't prevent me from doing the "head bob" as opposed to the "wobble" while sitting outside one of the shopping areas. We, somehow, managed to survive until noon...checked in....and crashed for a couple of hours...YAAAAWWWWN!
We awoke groggy yet famished and wandered over to Little India (like we hadn't had enough) to find our gem of a restaurant, the Blue Diamond. It was like we'd never left!
and the food....every bit as good and cheap....mmmmm.....
We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around Little India...and I think Amber bought even more of those head-sticking Tikka things...while I had a look around at the architecture of this old area of Singapore....
If any of you can remember that far back, the first time through Singapore we (well...mainly Amber) spent a lot of time at the "Pretty in Tokyo" taking all sorts of photos on bizarre backgrounds. Rather like Bollywood films, this is something Amber simply cannot get enough of...so back we went for some more fun-filled snaps. We had a fairly early (& long!) flight the next morning so we grabbed dinner at an outdoor restaurant near the hotel. We were thrilled to see they had Tibetan Momos on the menu...but I can't say they measured up to the Darjeeling version. Then again, we may have been too tired to appreciate them at any level other than that they constituted food!
If you're going to spend a few hours at an airport, you could do much worse than to spend it in Singapore. Everywhere you look, there are plasma screen tvs, wireless internet connections, Gordon Campbells, la-z-boy chairs with speakers in them....whoa...did I say Gordon Campbells??? Yes, it's true....my concentration on that particular weblog entry was thrown asunder by the apparition of the BC Premier wandering dazedly through the terminal pursued by his harried assistant. The only reason I even noticed was the because the assistant was carrying a bag with the Vancouver 2010 logo on the side. It seemed we were home even before we'd left....except for the 17 hour flight to come....OUCH!
Hooray for empty flights!!! We could face the tortuous ride home while able to lounge...ok that's a bit of a stretch (or squash in this case)...across all three seats. This allowed your diligent scribe to put the finishing touches on whatever episode of this sitcom he happened to be working on at the time (I'm beginning to like this 3rd person stuff...it's probably a very good thing this is the last entry!!!).
As most of you know...we arrived home safely...but the jet lag was totally brutal. I kept waking up at anywhere between 3am and 4am for a week....even though I'd stay awake until 10pm the previous night...AARGH!
Amber called this trip the most amazing experience of her life....and I'm glad I helped make it happen for her. She was also a great travel companion - I can't imagine putting up with me 24/7 for almost a month! The trip was also very rewarding for me - especially visiting old haunts in Darjeeling and helping the old school plan and build for an exciting future. Finally, I hope I've managed to convey, in some small way, the great fun we've had on this trip....and that whoever joined us through cyberspace enjoyed the ride.
Until the next one....Namaste and....uhh....Adios!
We landed in Singapore at 6am local time and were pleased to find that the hotel we'd stayed in on the outward leg was quite reasonable (Singapore Airlines had paid the previous time). We piled into the shuttle and marveled at the unbelievable cleanliness of the place. We couldn't actually check into the hotel until noon but they let us store our pile of luggage with the bell captain while we went off in search of our $1 breakfast. I think the ladies at the booth were quite happy to see us again - at least I think so as we had no idea what they were saying. However, there was a lot of smiling going on....
After breakfast and a not nearly strong enough tea, we hailed a cab and went in search of a much-missed Starbucks Frapuccino. These things really are all over the place so we found one without much difficulty. However, even one of those didn't prevent me from doing the "head bob" as opposed to the "wobble" while sitting outside one of the shopping areas. We, somehow, managed to survive until noon...checked in....and crashed for a couple of hours...YAAAAWWWWN!
We awoke groggy yet famished and wandered over to Little India (like we hadn't had enough) to find our gem of a restaurant, the Blue Diamond. It was like we'd never left!
and the food....every bit as good and cheap....mmmmm.....
We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around Little India...and I think Amber bought even more of those head-sticking Tikka things...while I had a look around at the architecture of this old area of Singapore....
If any of you can remember that far back, the first time through Singapore we (well...mainly Amber) spent a lot of time at the "Pretty in Tokyo" taking all sorts of photos on bizarre backgrounds. Rather like Bollywood films, this is something Amber simply cannot get enough of...so back we went for some more fun-filled snaps. We had a fairly early (& long!) flight the next morning so we grabbed dinner at an outdoor restaurant near the hotel. We were thrilled to see they had Tibetan Momos on the menu...but I can't say they measured up to the Darjeeling version. Then again, we may have been too tired to appreciate them at any level other than that they constituted food!
If you're going to spend a few hours at an airport, you could do much worse than to spend it in Singapore. Everywhere you look, there are plasma screen tvs, wireless internet connections, Gordon Campbells, la-z-boy chairs with speakers in them....whoa...did I say Gordon Campbells??? Yes, it's true....my concentration on that particular weblog entry was thrown asunder by the apparition of the BC Premier wandering dazedly through the terminal pursued by his harried assistant. The only reason I even noticed was the because the assistant was carrying a bag with the Vancouver 2010 logo on the side. It seemed we were home even before we'd left....except for the 17 hour flight to come....OUCH!
Hooray for empty flights!!! We could face the tortuous ride home while able to lounge...ok that's a bit of a stretch (or squash in this case)...across all three seats. This allowed your diligent scribe to put the finishing touches on whatever episode of this sitcom he happened to be working on at the time (I'm beginning to like this 3rd person stuff...it's probably a very good thing this is the last entry!!!).
As most of you know...we arrived home safely...but the jet lag was totally brutal. I kept waking up at anywhere between 3am and 4am for a week....even though I'd stay awake until 10pm the previous night...AARGH!
Amber called this trip the most amazing experience of her life....and I'm glad I helped make it happen for her. She was also a great travel companion - I can't imagine putting up with me 24/7 for almost a month! The trip was also very rewarding for me - especially visiting old haunts in Darjeeling and helping the old school plan and build for an exciting future. Finally, I hope I've managed to convey, in some small way, the great fun we've had on this trip....and that whoever joined us through cyberspace enjoyed the ride.
Until the next one....Namaste and....uhh....Adios!
Posted at 09:22 PM Read More
Tue - December
2, 2003
Blonde? What blonde...???
Our stay in Calcutta, somewhat unexpectedly, extends
itself....
You would think that the bond between hairdresser
and client would extend to honest discussions on the subject of roots. However,
until that fateful day of November 8th, 2003, I had heard nary a peep from Amber
as to what, quite obviously, exists below my scalp-line - i.e. blonde bits! Now
this fact would probably surprise most casual observers (including myself...as
I'm sure there are no blondes in at least a couple of generations of my family)
but there can be no other explanation for missing our outgoing flights by 24
hours. I can't even blame the traffic...I mean it's congested....but not that
congested!
We discovered this rather horrific state of affairs as we were packing on that Saturday afternoon and I thought I should check the exact time of the flights - not even thinking that I needed to check the date. It's pretty hard to describe the process of heavy blinking...looking away...looking back...more heavy blinking....and then the feeling of your stomach zipping past your knees and heading for your feet at something approximating Mach 1! And THEN....having to break the news to your travel partner....who, I might add, took it remarkably well! Since this was now Saturday evening, there was no hope of determining when we could get a flight out until the following Monday....the next 36 hours were just a wee bit stressful. It's quite amazing how a place, which moments before was a pleasure-filled environment, complete with golf caddies and pedicurists...can suddenly feel like a prison (albeit a pretty slack one).
Suffice to say that these two people should have been winging their way across the Pacific instead of sipping tea......
Since I am writing this bit significantly after these events occurred...and since most of you know that we made it home...I can dispense with the spine tingling suspense-building...and tell you all that, after we tracked down Singapore Airlines (wouldn't you know it - they'd moved) on the following Monday, they managed to fit us on the next flight out (Tuesday night) - and, amazingly to us, didn't charge us anything extra! Since we'd convinced ourselves that we were FOR SURE going to be charged a couple of thousand dollars, we suddenly felt that we'd received a windfall! Brilliant rationalizers that we are, we celebrated by doing a bit more shopping - after all we did have two extra days to kill.... (Editor's note: Amber took all the pics during these couple of days so I'll have to wait get some copies scanned before I can post them).
During our "scattered period", an old family friend (Michael Pook) was extremely helpful. Michael's an Englishman who has lived in Calcutta since the early 1960's and runs a company which does glorious things like building fountains in various parts of the planet. Now there's a cause designed to bring joy to humanity. On the night we were supposed to be flying out, we took Michael out for dinner at this swanky North Indian restaurant called Zaranj. Michael picked us up at the club with an air-conditioned car and driver...now that's the way to live (especially as the air conditioning allowed you to escape breathing in the foul soup outside). Michael has a great, dry sense of humour...though you'd never know from this pic....
Our final day in Calcutta was spent hanging around the club and packing - this time so far in advance that we could have been at the airport 5 hours before the flight! It did give me some time to wander around and take a couple of pics.... These are the caddies lounging around and waiting to offer their services to unsuspecting golfers. Behind them is a building dedicated to the provision of ice-cream to over-heated guests - now isn't that a good idea!
This little area was quite close to our room...reminds me of a Parisian cafe...wrought iron and all....and to complete the authenticity of it all...the waiters were almost as rude....only sometimes, though....and when you're head-wobbling....how rude can you possibly be???
Well...that was it! We piled ourselves into a cab....meandered our way through the diesel fumes (they were particularly bad that night) and...about an hour later, landed up at the airport. When the Singapore Airlines flight actually rose off the tarmac...given our past few days....we could hardly believe it....WHEW!
One more day in Singapore (no connecting flight this time) and we'd be on the homeward leg across the Pacific...
We discovered this rather horrific state of affairs as we were packing on that Saturday afternoon and I thought I should check the exact time of the flights - not even thinking that I needed to check the date. It's pretty hard to describe the process of heavy blinking...looking away...looking back...more heavy blinking....and then the feeling of your stomach zipping past your knees and heading for your feet at something approximating Mach 1! And THEN....having to break the news to your travel partner....who, I might add, took it remarkably well! Since this was now Saturday evening, there was no hope of determining when we could get a flight out until the following Monday....the next 36 hours were just a wee bit stressful. It's quite amazing how a place, which moments before was a pleasure-filled environment, complete with golf caddies and pedicurists...can suddenly feel like a prison (albeit a pretty slack one).
Suffice to say that these two people should have been winging their way across the Pacific instead of sipping tea......
Since I am writing this bit significantly after these events occurred...and since most of you know that we made it home...I can dispense with the spine tingling suspense-building...and tell you all that, after we tracked down Singapore Airlines (wouldn't you know it - they'd moved) on the following Monday, they managed to fit us on the next flight out (Tuesday night) - and, amazingly to us, didn't charge us anything extra! Since we'd convinced ourselves that we were FOR SURE going to be charged a couple of thousand dollars, we suddenly felt that we'd received a windfall! Brilliant rationalizers that we are, we celebrated by doing a bit more shopping - after all we did have two extra days to kill.... (Editor's note: Amber took all the pics during these couple of days so I'll have to wait get some copies scanned before I can post them).
During our "scattered period", an old family friend (Michael Pook) was extremely helpful. Michael's an Englishman who has lived in Calcutta since the early 1960's and runs a company which does glorious things like building fountains in various parts of the planet. Now there's a cause designed to bring joy to humanity. On the night we were supposed to be flying out, we took Michael out for dinner at this swanky North Indian restaurant called Zaranj. Michael picked us up at the club with an air-conditioned car and driver...now that's the way to live (especially as the air conditioning allowed you to escape breathing in the foul soup outside). Michael has a great, dry sense of humour...though you'd never know from this pic....
Our final day in Calcutta was spent hanging around the club and packing - this time so far in advance that we could have been at the airport 5 hours before the flight! It did give me some time to wander around and take a couple of pics.... These are the caddies lounging around and waiting to offer their services to unsuspecting golfers. Behind them is a building dedicated to the provision of ice-cream to over-heated guests - now isn't that a good idea!
This little area was quite close to our room...reminds me of a Parisian cafe...wrought iron and all....and to complete the authenticity of it all...the waiters were almost as rude....only sometimes, though....and when you're head-wobbling....how rude can you possibly be???
Well...that was it! We piled ourselves into a cab....meandered our way through the diesel fumes (they were particularly bad that night) and...about an hour later, landed up at the airport. When the Singapore Airlines flight actually rose off the tarmac...given our past few days....we could hardly believe it....WHEW!
One more day in Singapore (no connecting flight this time) and we'd be on the homeward leg across the Pacific...
Posted at 04:42 PM Read More
Fri - November 21, 2003
A Cruise Around the City of Joy
also known as the City of Infernal, Diesel-spewing
Lorries, 3-wheelers, Buses and every other known method of transport -
contrasting with its other reputation as the City of Poetry, Beautiful
Architecture and very nice people....
We awoke to the cawing of various "Murders" of crows
as well as a bunch of head-scarved painters who were slapping whitewash on every
spare bit of concrete they could find. The speed they worked at (the painters,
not the crows) was really quite amazing - although they did manage to paint the
odd plant which had careened into their
path.
Amber fortified herself with breakfast and went off to colour the hair of one the women in the Club's hair salon. Of course, she then ended up attending to any number of others who wanted to experience the foreign scissors! As I was due for a chop of my own, they were good enough to offer up the facilities for Amber to perform her magic on me (in full view of local hecklers).
All this preening had psyched us up to go out and explore the city - and also to find a cooperative bank machine. So...not so securely situated (no seatbelts) in the back seat of a standard-issue Calcutta taxi, we zipped out for a tour of the city. The main roads are pretty congested but the smaller side roads are really very interesting. We both thought they reminded us of photos we'd seen of Havana - similar style of architecture - and, surprisingly, clean and well kept.
Certainly the MVP's of the Calcutta road system have to be the pith-helmet clad coppers who spend their entire time trying to keep tabs on the variety of uncooperative vehicles (and cows, dogs, and, quite possibly, parrots) who all have their own particular agendas with respect to the ideal method of crossing intersections. There, these valiant sentries stand - in the blazing sun, in 95% humidity, for hours on end - with their main goal being to avoid their toes being run over. This fellow looks quite relieved he's in the shade...
We ended up driving around a good part of the city and seeing amazing signs - like the one for St. Thomas's School (where my Uncle went) which said something like "...since 1785". I suspect they hadn't scrubbed the surrounding cement wall since then! We also had the hilarious experience of following a minivan which was spewing the usual diesel cocktail - and had the audacity to display that it was one of the stellar representatives of the "Calcutta Anti-Pollution Patrol". Sadly, I couldn't record a single "in-focus" shot of this Python--esque experience as we were rocketing around a clover-leaf at the time. By now, the sun was starting to set and, believe me, you will never see as orange a sunset unless you're surrounded by an equivalent level of smoky pollutants. At about 4:30pm, you could look directly at the sun...no problem at all....
We made a quick stop at the Victoria Memorial (often referred to as the Brit version of the Taj Mahal). It was built at the beginning of the 20th Century - in honour of...wait for it...Queen Victoria. It's quite a spectacular marble edifice - currently undergoing a bit of a long-overdue clean-up (hence the scaffolding).
All this sightseeing was, of course, taking up valuable time which could, otherwise, have been used to shop. If you want to shop in Calcutta - and experience a microcosm of the entire city at the same time - you go to the Sir Stuart Hogg Market (colloquially known as the "New Market"). I gather the original place went up in smoke sometime around 1900 (I could be totally off here) so the replacement building has been called "New" ever since. The whole setup is like a bazaar - albeit with a roof over the top.
Even getting within 100 metres of the place results in being surrounded by "touts". These are guys whose livelihood depends upon ushering buyers to shops where they can earn commissions. Needless to say, each one is extremely persistent and trails you all over the place - in spite of any amount of indirect and direct indications from you that the last thing you'd do in the next half an hour would be to spend one single cent (or paisa) anywhere within the radius of 10 km of his epicentre. Of course, the fact you're heading directly into the busiest bazaar in the city may have some reflection on your credibility. Regardless of our protestations, we seemed to have grown an appendage which was dressed in a dhoti (a sarong like thing...which has the disturbing habit of getting tucked in at the back like some kind of overgrown thong). For those of you closely following this saga, I should note that his dental work closely resembled that of the afore-mentioned residents of Darjeeling (so you can imagine his toothpick selection). This fellow took great pains to point out that the was "board certified" by pointing out to us the badge proudly displayed on his chest. He certainly thought he'd got onto a good thing with us because he was right beside us wherever we walked and lurked outside every store we went into. In the meantime, Amber decided that Vancouver's Little India was not up to the task of supplying every possible Bollywood soundtrack....so in she went to negotiate a mass purchase (while our tout salivated outside, hopeful of a cut of the spending pie).
After picking up some silver jewelry for gifts at a neighbouring store, we escaped into the teeming streets where, for reasons which completely escape me, Amber decided to buy up most of the Indian supply of tikkas. Now, when I say tikkas, I'm not referring to the ever-popular Chicken Tikka. No...these are things that Indian women like to stick on their foreheads....and, much to my amazement, come in every variety of shapes and sizes (restricted by forehead size, of course). While I was twiddling my thumbs waiting for the tikka selection, I discovered a nearby shop which caused all sorts of corneal burns as a result of the loudest combination of colours I can ever remember seeing in a window display. The photo doesn't really do it justice...
Around the corner from this colour fiesta is the venerable Fairlawn Hotel (located in backpacker central on Sudder St.). Finally, someone offered to sell us hash in India - we were beginning to feel quite rejected! We were, frankly, much more interested in beer so we ignored our dealer and cruised into the Fairlawn's outdoor bar. This place has been run since the 1930's by the same couple - Ed & Vi Smith. This was where the Patrick Swayze character in the movie "City of Joy" stayed and, in which, Vi Smith's white poodle played a small, but crucial, role. Personally, I think Vi's purple hair would have been far more interesting than the poodle! They have an interesting room connected to the outdoor bar which appears to have a slightly creepy outlook. All over the walls, rather like hunting trophies, are pinned hats - makes one wonder what happened to the people once connected to them....
Unbelievably...post beer...more tikkas were purchased. This, of course, worked up our appetites so we decided to head over to Park Street and go to a restaurant called Trincas...with supposedly, "American-style" food. There were a row of rickshaws lined up looking for customers so we thought we'd give one a try.
It seems rather odd (with North American sensibilities) to be pulled along by another human being in this fashion. This guy certainly saw us coming....as it would have been cheaper to take a taxi for the 4 or 5 blocks we travelled (no doubt, guilt mitigated against our ruthless bargaining prowess).
Trincas had changed since the last time I'd seen it. Instead of a jazz bar...it had morphed into a combination of sports bar and lounge. The food was certainly good - although we were hard-pressed to figure out just what the American influence was. Our favourite part of the entire Trincas experience was the live band from hell! You couldn't have strayed further from jazz than what this lame bunch put out. I'm not sure how better I can communicate the smirk value than to say that they played the theme from Titanic not once but twice: the first time was some attempt at the original arrangement; the second was an incredibly bizarre "stars-on-45 style" version. They may not have been very good - but it was hard to beat for sheer entertainment! We could retire for the evening with smiles on our faces secure in the knowledge that Calcutta would never let such talent escape to the outside world!
Amber fortified herself with breakfast and went off to colour the hair of one the women in the Club's hair salon. Of course, she then ended up attending to any number of others who wanted to experience the foreign scissors! As I was due for a chop of my own, they were good enough to offer up the facilities for Amber to perform her magic on me (in full view of local hecklers).
All this preening had psyched us up to go out and explore the city - and also to find a cooperative bank machine. So...not so securely situated (no seatbelts) in the back seat of a standard-issue Calcutta taxi, we zipped out for a tour of the city. The main roads are pretty congested but the smaller side roads are really very interesting. We both thought they reminded us of photos we'd seen of Havana - similar style of architecture - and, surprisingly, clean and well kept.
Certainly the MVP's of the Calcutta road system have to be the pith-helmet clad coppers who spend their entire time trying to keep tabs on the variety of uncooperative vehicles (and cows, dogs, and, quite possibly, parrots) who all have their own particular agendas with respect to the ideal method of crossing intersections. There, these valiant sentries stand - in the blazing sun, in 95% humidity, for hours on end - with their main goal being to avoid their toes being run over. This fellow looks quite relieved he's in the shade...
We ended up driving around a good part of the city and seeing amazing signs - like the one for St. Thomas's School (where my Uncle went) which said something like "...since 1785". I suspect they hadn't scrubbed the surrounding cement wall since then! We also had the hilarious experience of following a minivan which was spewing the usual diesel cocktail - and had the audacity to display that it was one of the stellar representatives of the "Calcutta Anti-Pollution Patrol". Sadly, I couldn't record a single "in-focus" shot of this Python--esque experience as we were rocketing around a clover-leaf at the time. By now, the sun was starting to set and, believe me, you will never see as orange a sunset unless you're surrounded by an equivalent level of smoky pollutants. At about 4:30pm, you could look directly at the sun...no problem at all....
We made a quick stop at the Victoria Memorial (often referred to as the Brit version of the Taj Mahal). It was built at the beginning of the 20th Century - in honour of...wait for it...Queen Victoria. It's quite a spectacular marble edifice - currently undergoing a bit of a long-overdue clean-up (hence the scaffolding).
All this sightseeing was, of course, taking up valuable time which could, otherwise, have been used to shop. If you want to shop in Calcutta - and experience a microcosm of the entire city at the same time - you go to the Sir Stuart Hogg Market (colloquially known as the "New Market"). I gather the original place went up in smoke sometime around 1900 (I could be totally off here) so the replacement building has been called "New" ever since. The whole setup is like a bazaar - albeit with a roof over the top.
Even getting within 100 metres of the place results in being surrounded by "touts". These are guys whose livelihood depends upon ushering buyers to shops where they can earn commissions. Needless to say, each one is extremely persistent and trails you all over the place - in spite of any amount of indirect and direct indications from you that the last thing you'd do in the next half an hour would be to spend one single cent (or paisa) anywhere within the radius of 10 km of his epicentre. Of course, the fact you're heading directly into the busiest bazaar in the city may have some reflection on your credibility. Regardless of our protestations, we seemed to have grown an appendage which was dressed in a dhoti (a sarong like thing...which has the disturbing habit of getting tucked in at the back like some kind of overgrown thong). For those of you closely following this saga, I should note that his dental work closely resembled that of the afore-mentioned residents of Darjeeling (so you can imagine his toothpick selection). This fellow took great pains to point out that the was "board certified" by pointing out to us the badge proudly displayed on his chest. He certainly thought he'd got onto a good thing with us because he was right beside us wherever we walked and lurked outside every store we went into. In the meantime, Amber decided that Vancouver's Little India was not up to the task of supplying every possible Bollywood soundtrack....so in she went to negotiate a mass purchase (while our tout salivated outside, hopeful of a cut of the spending pie).
After picking up some silver jewelry for gifts at a neighbouring store, we escaped into the teeming streets where, for reasons which completely escape me, Amber decided to buy up most of the Indian supply of tikkas. Now, when I say tikkas, I'm not referring to the ever-popular Chicken Tikka. No...these are things that Indian women like to stick on their foreheads....and, much to my amazement, come in every variety of shapes and sizes (restricted by forehead size, of course). While I was twiddling my thumbs waiting for the tikka selection, I discovered a nearby shop which caused all sorts of corneal burns as a result of the loudest combination of colours I can ever remember seeing in a window display. The photo doesn't really do it justice...
Around the corner from this colour fiesta is the venerable Fairlawn Hotel (located in backpacker central on Sudder St.). Finally, someone offered to sell us hash in India - we were beginning to feel quite rejected! We were, frankly, much more interested in beer so we ignored our dealer and cruised into the Fairlawn's outdoor bar. This place has been run since the 1930's by the same couple - Ed & Vi Smith. This was where the Patrick Swayze character in the movie "City of Joy" stayed and, in which, Vi Smith's white poodle played a small, but crucial, role. Personally, I think Vi's purple hair would have been far more interesting than the poodle! They have an interesting room connected to the outdoor bar which appears to have a slightly creepy outlook. All over the walls, rather like hunting trophies, are pinned hats - makes one wonder what happened to the people once connected to them....
Unbelievably...post beer...more tikkas were purchased. This, of course, worked up our appetites so we decided to head over to Park Street and go to a restaurant called Trincas...with supposedly, "American-style" food. There were a row of rickshaws lined up looking for customers so we thought we'd give one a try.
It seems rather odd (with North American sensibilities) to be pulled along by another human being in this fashion. This guy certainly saw us coming....as it would have been cheaper to take a taxi for the 4 or 5 blocks we travelled (no doubt, guilt mitigated against our ruthless bargaining prowess).
Trincas had changed since the last time I'd seen it. Instead of a jazz bar...it had morphed into a combination of sports bar and lounge. The food was certainly good - although we were hard-pressed to figure out just what the American influence was. Our favourite part of the entire Trincas experience was the live band from hell! You couldn't have strayed further from jazz than what this lame bunch put out. I'm not sure how better I can communicate the smirk value than to say that they played the theme from Titanic not once but twice: the first time was some attempt at the original arrangement; the second was an incredibly bizarre "stars-on-45 style" version. They may not have been very good - but it was hard to beat for sheer entertainment! We could retire for the evening with smiles on our faces secure in the knowledge that Calcutta would never let such talent escape to the outside world!
Posted at 04:47 PM Read More
Sat
- November 15, 2003
Farewell to the Mountains
The trip back to the plains and a Jesuit with the
name of a steak!
Our last day in Darjeeling dawned with the usual
mystifyingly eccentric cloud-formations, punctuated with the odd glorious view
of the surrounding mountains. The school had generously offered one of their
vehicles (along with the afore-mentioned Jacques Villeneuve-like driver, Sonam)
to drive us down to the
airport.
Accompanying us was a Jesuit named Fr. Mignon who was finishing up his annual vacation in the hills. He was quite an amazing guy - he'd first come out to India in 1949 - so I can only imagine the state of his lungs after 54 years of inhaling diesel! The old boy had spent his entire time in Calcutta so was able to give us some interesting tales of the city before it became the insane place it is now. He' d also been coming up to Darjeeling for all that time and remembered the trip in 1952 (I think) when the Monsoon washed away the road in a couple of places - so they had to walk the whole way down to the bottom! Given those kinds of experiences, his views of the shortcut from Kurseong to Siliguri were a lot more jovial than ours....
You just had to love the road construction going on - just in the nick of time.....and, by the way, how on Earth are we going to get past that minivan?!!?!?
Actually, the second trip on the shortcut didn't seem quite so hair-raising as the first. I guess we'd been dodging traffic for so long in Darjeeling that the fact there was a 1000ft drop mere feet away didn't have quite the cache it did before. Oh well...we'd now become the next in a long line of jaded travellers.
It was quite incredible how the temperature rose in such a short time. In the hour it took to get from Kurseong to the plains, we must have gone from 12 degrees to about 28! The layers of clothing certainly disappeared rapidly. Pretty soon the magical quality of the Himalayas receded (sigh) into the haze of the plains and we were back in the real India once again....
The flight back to Calcutta was rather uneventful - except that I had to remove my shoes for the security dude. Apparently, Canadian shoes have the unpleasant propensity to cause a shrill beeping sound when approached by a metal detector. Who knew? The only other excitement was caused by us guffawing out loud while reading bits of "Uncle Fred in the Springtime" (PG Wodehouse) - this caused the Indian family sitting across from us to throw furtive glances in our direction interspersed with the odd sharp intake of breath. We don't mind being on display.
Calcutta presented us its usual smoky face upon arrival but, as mentioned above, we were now jaded travellers and cruised along to the Tollygunge Club in our taxi with nary a sideways glance at the chaos around us. The first thing we did was order toast and tea....but, of course! That evening we decided to get dressed up and grace the Tippu Sultan room in the main Clubhouse with our presence. En route, we decided some glam picture-taking was in order. You don't seriously think this was posed, do you....?
The main clubhouse, as you can probably tell from the pic, is a very elegant spot. It was built in the late 1700's as the main house for the family who ran the indigo plantation - so has all sorts of cool design cues. Of course, us running around posing led to all sorts of speculation by the members as to just which celebrities we were....far be it for us to burst their bubbles!
Accompanying us was a Jesuit named Fr. Mignon who was finishing up his annual vacation in the hills. He was quite an amazing guy - he'd first come out to India in 1949 - so I can only imagine the state of his lungs after 54 years of inhaling diesel! The old boy had spent his entire time in Calcutta so was able to give us some interesting tales of the city before it became the insane place it is now. He' d also been coming up to Darjeeling for all that time and remembered the trip in 1952 (I think) when the Monsoon washed away the road in a couple of places - so they had to walk the whole way down to the bottom! Given those kinds of experiences, his views of the shortcut from Kurseong to Siliguri were a lot more jovial than ours....
You just had to love the road construction going on - just in the nick of time.....and, by the way, how on Earth are we going to get past that minivan?!!?!?
Actually, the second trip on the shortcut didn't seem quite so hair-raising as the first. I guess we'd been dodging traffic for so long in Darjeeling that the fact there was a 1000ft drop mere feet away didn't have quite the cache it did before. Oh well...we'd now become the next in a long line of jaded travellers.
It was quite incredible how the temperature rose in such a short time. In the hour it took to get from Kurseong to the plains, we must have gone from 12 degrees to about 28! The layers of clothing certainly disappeared rapidly. Pretty soon the magical quality of the Himalayas receded (sigh) into the haze of the plains and we were back in the real India once again....
The flight back to Calcutta was rather uneventful - except that I had to remove my shoes for the security dude. Apparently, Canadian shoes have the unpleasant propensity to cause a shrill beeping sound when approached by a metal detector. Who knew? The only other excitement was caused by us guffawing out loud while reading bits of "Uncle Fred in the Springtime" (PG Wodehouse) - this caused the Indian family sitting across from us to throw furtive glances in our direction interspersed with the odd sharp intake of breath. We don't mind being on display.
Calcutta presented us its usual smoky face upon arrival but, as mentioned above, we were now jaded travellers and cruised along to the Tollygunge Club in our taxi with nary a sideways glance at the chaos around us. The first thing we did was order toast and tea....but, of course! That evening we decided to get dressed up and grace the Tippu Sultan room in the main Clubhouse with our presence. En route, we decided some glam picture-taking was in order. You don't seriously think this was posed, do you....?
The main clubhouse, as you can probably tell from the pic, is a very elegant spot. It was built in the late 1700's as the main house for the family who ran the indigo plantation - so has all sorts of cool design cues. Of course, us running around posing led to all sorts of speculation by the members as to just which celebrities we were....far be it for us to burst their bubbles!
Posted at 07:41 PM Read More
Thu - November 13, 2003
Floss, Floss, Floss!
Toothpicks from Hell & and a strange endorsement
of the West Coast lifestyle
There are times when one misses the good old film in
the camera days! This, in fact, is one of those times. Scouring the hard drive,
I am absolutely unable to find a magnificent macro shot of three "toothpicks"
aligned side by side. You may think this is just another trivial rant about yet
another inconsequential event, however, if you did, you would be missing the big
picture - the "macro" one, if you will. These digitally disadvantaged toothpicks
were of the sort which would have caused immense social upheaval should they
have arrived casually with the bill at your local Earl's. Why, you ask? Well, if
you can imagine, toothpicks which are about 3 times wider than your standard
Canadian edition complete with helpful branches for reaching those otherwise
unreachable fragments of your leftover lunch, you will start to comprehend the
uncomprehendible! I have to admit being somewhat baffled by the glory of these
implements until remembering that the average Indian or Nepali doesn't usually
have a dental plan. This appears to result in toothy growth patterns which are,
shall we say, less aligned that those of the average North American. Often, you
will find yawning Grand Canyon-like spaces residing cheek-by-jowel beside
towering incisors and, if you have such variable terrain in your mouth, no mere
slim-line toothpick will do. You would, no doubt, appreciate the greater
ground-covering sweep of the indigenous Darjeeling
toothpick.
It also occurred to me that having these yawning caverns between one's front teeth would add to the spitting accuracy of the dedicated paan-chewer. For those who don't know what a paan is, it's betel nut with any number of additives (eg. tobacco) all wrapped in a betel leaf (since I'm not a paan chewer, I could be completely off base). Quite often, a devotee of the habit can be found expelling red spittle in various directions (so observers have to be nimble of foot to avoid collateral damage). To give you an idea of the scope of spitting, Fr. Van (NP's Rector) told me that when he arrived in India 50 years ago, he was quite appalled by, what he thought, was an epidemic of Tuberculosis in Bombay. Later, he found out that, what he thought was blood coughed up all over the sidewalks, was actually paan-spit! No doubt, at this stage, you're all saying: "Stop babbling and show us the pics"! Allright, allright!
I should point out that these toothpicks arrived in front of us after a great meal at a restaurant called Stardust. We had feasted on some "Manchurian Mushrooms" and Veg Biriyani. To be clear, these actually were mushrooms but they certainly tasted magical. Darjeeling does appear to be quite a liberal place and does bear a striking resemblance to the certain sections of the West Coast....
This day was our last full day in Darjeeling (which we were quite sorry about). I was due at the school to finalize a few things and I happened to land up just as they were having their morning assembly. As we were being presented to the school the previous time they'd held one of these, we hadn't been able to photograph it. Quite an impressive sight...
After a couple of meetings, I decided to take a nostalgic tour of my old stomping grounds in the boarding section of the Primary Department. There, I found the usual group of insane munchkins all eager get their 10 seconds of fame.
I said my goodbyes to a number of the staff and students and made my way back to town to meet up with Amber and some of the rest of the gang for a farewell tea/dinner. Both Fr.'s Kinley and Van made the trek over and we had a really fun few hours at Glenary's. Before heading off to bed, we had to hunt down a few more of the omnipresent Darjeeling toques for gifts. Of course, no one had a clue what we meant by the word "toque" - obviously Bob & Doug Mackenzie's influence has worn thin in this neck of the woods. Most of the toque sellers had closed up by this time, but fortunately, the good people at Hayden Hall also made some - and since we were with the Management...they had keys to the giftshop! Unfortunately, they also decided to dress me up as some kind of a honourary Nepali! That, by the way...is not one of the toques!
It also occurred to me that having these yawning caverns between one's front teeth would add to the spitting accuracy of the dedicated paan-chewer. For those who don't know what a paan is, it's betel nut with any number of additives (eg. tobacco) all wrapped in a betel leaf (since I'm not a paan chewer, I could be completely off base). Quite often, a devotee of the habit can be found expelling red spittle in various directions (so observers have to be nimble of foot to avoid collateral damage). To give you an idea of the scope of spitting, Fr. Van (NP's Rector) told me that when he arrived in India 50 years ago, he was quite appalled by, what he thought, was an epidemic of Tuberculosis in Bombay. Later, he found out that, what he thought was blood coughed up all over the sidewalks, was actually paan-spit! No doubt, at this stage, you're all saying: "Stop babbling and show us the pics"! Allright, allright!
I should point out that these toothpicks arrived in front of us after a great meal at a restaurant called Stardust. We had feasted on some "Manchurian Mushrooms" and Veg Biriyani. To be clear, these actually were mushrooms but they certainly tasted magical. Darjeeling does appear to be quite a liberal place and does bear a striking resemblance to the certain sections of the West Coast....
This day was our last full day in Darjeeling (which we were quite sorry about). I was due at the school to finalize a few things and I happened to land up just as they were having their morning assembly. As we were being presented to the school the previous time they'd held one of these, we hadn't been able to photograph it. Quite an impressive sight...
After a couple of meetings, I decided to take a nostalgic tour of my old stomping grounds in the boarding section of the Primary Department. There, I found the usual group of insane munchkins all eager get their 10 seconds of fame.
I said my goodbyes to a number of the staff and students and made my way back to town to meet up with Amber and some of the rest of the gang for a farewell tea/dinner. Both Fr.'s Kinley and Van made the trek over and we had a really fun few hours at Glenary's. Before heading off to bed, we had to hunt down a few more of the omnipresent Darjeeling toques for gifts. Of course, no one had a clue what we meant by the word "toque" - obviously Bob & Doug Mackenzie's influence has worn thin in this neck of the woods. Most of the toque sellers had closed up by this time, but fortunately, the good people at Hayden Hall also made some - and since we were with the Management...they had keys to the giftshop! Unfortunately, they also decided to dress me up as some kind of a honourary Nepali! That, by the way...is not one of the toques!
Posted at 08:49 AM Read More
Mon - November 10, 2003
Ninjas & Mary Poppins...all in the same day
Here we have Pemma Taschi - my post night on the
town tennis
opponent!
You will have noted that steely, resolute glance; that air of ease with himself; the possibility, at any moment, of launching himself in all directions of the compass - purely because he could. Yes, here we have Pemma Taschi - a member of the British Army's exclusive Gurkha brigade (or whatever the proper term is....) for 14 years where he served in places ranging from Hong Kong to Germany to Gulf War 1. The Gurkhas are usually sent into the really tough situations - especially where stealth and ninja-like skills are needed. Did I really need to be facing this across the tennis court - especially while nursing a slight hangover??? Surely, you will have all answered a resolute NO!....but I suspect the pure entertainment factor of watching my knees knock would have brought out the darker sides of your personalities and a well-rounded cheer of "Go for it" would have rung around the surrounding hills. Bowing to this pressure, I trudged up the hill to the Darjeeling Gymkhana Club where my fate awaited me. Our friendly Ninja greeted me at the gates and off we went to the courts, he with a swagger - me with stagger. Our first game, much to my great relief was as partners - and, I have to admit, we were about as bad as each other - and were soundly defeated by a pair who were far sneakier (but vastly worse looking). Pemma, then deciding to plumb the depths of his strategic Gurkha training, had me play for half an hour with one of our doubles conquerors - and if you've ever tried running around at 7,000 feet, you'll know that there was some heavy breathing going on (at least on my part). Pemma and I then decided to play singles against each other (he having had a nice rest). It was a hammer and tongs kind of match with each of us pulling ahead and then being reeled back. At about this point, Amber showed up with my camera and decided to take a short movie of the proceedings - conveniently timed to record my somewhat off-colour reaction to the final episode of a series of bad shots. Down 3-2, I was needing to focus...
Fortunately, my serve miraculously returned and we ended up finishing up at 3-3 before breakfast arrived....whew! One more doubles match (amazingly with a partner who was a classmate of mine all those years ago) and I collapsed on the bench. In the meantime, Amber was schmoozing it up with a Tibetan admirer who kept asking her where she modelled!
Our lovely morning at the Gymkhana Club ended and, call us crazy, but we decided to brave a second Happy Valley Tea Garden Quest. After I told Anil Rai (the school's Asst. Headmaster) about my inability to follow his oral directions, he spent a good 10 minutes producing this Geological Survey-quality map! Note that "Factory" means the tea garden's processing facility.
Between the map and our new found friends Mike (from North Van) and Marie (from Stockholm), we felt somewhat more confident of finding the confounded thing. Well...amazingly enough we found it - albeit with one wrong turn. Coming around a corner and peering furtively down the hill we...much to my amazement...we spotted our quarry!
After descending a rather steep path for a significantly shorter period of time than our previous expedition, we came upon the main body of the factory. There we ran into a woman who informed us that there was no processing going on (as it was Sunday)....aargh! As we soon found out, this was not a woman to allow such minor inconveniences to get in the way of her entrepreneurial zeal...and our loss was most definitely her gain! Here began our introduction to Kusum - the grand dame of the lower valley who held court in her one room shack next to the factory. She said she could not help us with the processing - but if we wanted to learn about making tea, she was our woman. So, after a bit of head scratching to try and understand what on Earth she was talking about, we bowed our heads (Mike bowing most of his body) and clattered over her threshold. We were then treated to a long dissertation on which leaves were plucked at what times, the significance of putting the leaves in boiling water and, quite possibly, the implications of the tidal tables on the 2nd flush (ie. of leaves).
This was all a bit overwhelming for us mere mortals and so when she informed us that the best tea of the bunch was "Super Fine Tippy Golden Flowery Orange Pekoe", and I added "Supercalifrajalisticxpaledocious", she was just a bit non-plussed! The rest of the gang, however, were not quite so irreverent and continued to listen politely, with Marie even appearing to take notes....
We were, of course, allowed to sniff all the various levels of tea....but when the Supercalifrajalisticxpaledocious is trotted out, how could we help but buy the best. Then again, forking out Rs 150 (about Cdn$4.50) per 100 grams was not exactly the stuff of high finance. We were also informed that drinking tea (without the milk & sugar) keeps you young. Kusum claimed she was 60 years old - however, we did get suspicious when her brother showed up and informed us he was 31! Freshly laden with our stash, with the prospect of eternal youth dancing in our heads, and no taxi in sight, we started the not quite so long slog back up the mountainside. We seem to be getting rather fond of this angle...
After struggling to the top and dodging the taxis on the main road, we reached the lower taxi stand. Heading back up the hill through the teeming crowds, should you find yourself suddenly naked (other than the fact that this would no doubt create one of those awkward pregnant pauses), you would, in short order, be able to outfit yourself fairly easily in the season's latest offerings. Amber, giving the naked requirements a miss, decided to skip right to the outfitting section and screeched to a halt in the midst of the busy thoroughfare.
This resulted in her acquiring a new tank top for a dollar and losing our friends in the crowd, all in one go. We proceeded homeward, friendless but fashionable.....
You will have noted that steely, resolute glance; that air of ease with himself; the possibility, at any moment, of launching himself in all directions of the compass - purely because he could. Yes, here we have Pemma Taschi - a member of the British Army's exclusive Gurkha brigade (or whatever the proper term is....) for 14 years where he served in places ranging from Hong Kong to Germany to Gulf War 1. The Gurkhas are usually sent into the really tough situations - especially where stealth and ninja-like skills are needed. Did I really need to be facing this across the tennis court - especially while nursing a slight hangover??? Surely, you will have all answered a resolute NO!....but I suspect the pure entertainment factor of watching my knees knock would have brought out the darker sides of your personalities and a well-rounded cheer of "Go for it" would have rung around the surrounding hills. Bowing to this pressure, I trudged up the hill to the Darjeeling Gymkhana Club where my fate awaited me. Our friendly Ninja greeted me at the gates and off we went to the courts, he with a swagger - me with stagger. Our first game, much to my great relief was as partners - and, I have to admit, we were about as bad as each other - and were soundly defeated by a pair who were far sneakier (but vastly worse looking). Pemma, then deciding to plumb the depths of his strategic Gurkha training, had me play for half an hour with one of our doubles conquerors - and if you've ever tried running around at 7,000 feet, you'll know that there was some heavy breathing going on (at least on my part). Pemma and I then decided to play singles against each other (he having had a nice rest). It was a hammer and tongs kind of match with each of us pulling ahead and then being reeled back. At about this point, Amber showed up with my camera and decided to take a short movie of the proceedings - conveniently timed to record my somewhat off-colour reaction to the final episode of a series of bad shots. Down 3-2, I was needing to focus...
Fortunately, my serve miraculously returned and we ended up finishing up at 3-3 before breakfast arrived....whew! One more doubles match (amazingly with a partner who was a classmate of mine all those years ago) and I collapsed on the bench. In the meantime, Amber was schmoozing it up with a Tibetan admirer who kept asking her where she modelled!
Our lovely morning at the Gymkhana Club ended and, call us crazy, but we decided to brave a second Happy Valley Tea Garden Quest. After I told Anil Rai (the school's Asst. Headmaster) about my inability to follow his oral directions, he spent a good 10 minutes producing this Geological Survey-quality map! Note that "Factory" means the tea garden's processing facility.
Between the map and our new found friends Mike (from North Van) and Marie (from Stockholm), we felt somewhat more confident of finding the confounded thing. Well...amazingly enough we found it - albeit with one wrong turn. Coming around a corner and peering furtively down the hill we...much to my amazement...we spotted our quarry!
After descending a rather steep path for a significantly shorter period of time than our previous expedition, we came upon the main body of the factory. There we ran into a woman who informed us that there was no processing going on (as it was Sunday)....aargh! As we soon found out, this was not a woman to allow such minor inconveniences to get in the way of her entrepreneurial zeal...and our loss was most definitely her gain! Here began our introduction to Kusum - the grand dame of the lower valley who held court in her one room shack next to the factory. She said she could not help us with the processing - but if we wanted to learn about making tea, she was our woman. So, after a bit of head scratching to try and understand what on Earth she was talking about, we bowed our heads (Mike bowing most of his body) and clattered over her threshold. We were then treated to a long dissertation on which leaves were plucked at what times, the significance of putting the leaves in boiling water and, quite possibly, the implications of the tidal tables on the 2nd flush (ie. of leaves).
This was all a bit overwhelming for us mere mortals and so when she informed us that the best tea of the bunch was "Super Fine Tippy Golden Flowery Orange Pekoe", and I added "Supercalifrajalisticxpaledocious", she was just a bit non-plussed! The rest of the gang, however, were not quite so irreverent and continued to listen politely, with Marie even appearing to take notes....
We were, of course, allowed to sniff all the various levels of tea....but when the Supercalifrajalisticxpaledocious is trotted out, how could we help but buy the best. Then again, forking out Rs 150 (about Cdn$4.50) per 100 grams was not exactly the stuff of high finance. We were also informed that drinking tea (without the milk & sugar) keeps you young. Kusum claimed she was 60 years old - however, we did get suspicious when her brother showed up and informed us he was 31! Freshly laden with our stash, with the prospect of eternal youth dancing in our heads, and no taxi in sight, we started the not quite so long slog back up the mountainside. We seem to be getting rather fond of this angle...
After struggling to the top and dodging the taxis on the main road, we reached the lower taxi stand. Heading back up the hill through the teeming crowds, should you find yourself suddenly naked (other than the fact that this would no doubt create one of those awkward pregnant pauses), you would, in short order, be able to outfit yourself fairly easily in the season's latest offerings. Amber, giving the naked requirements a miss, decided to skip right to the outfitting section and screeched to a halt in the midst of the busy thoroughfare.
This resulted in her acquiring a new tank top for a dollar and losing our friends in the crowd, all in one go. We proceeded homeward, friendless but fashionable.....
Posted at 09:10 PM Read More
Sat
- November 1, 2003
Of Rugby and Chocolate Mousse....and the great tea quest!
We can now have some deeper understanding of the
motives of the Crusaders. We may not have been chasing the Holy Grail...but
we're not far off on the dedication to the quest! After spending the morning
meeting with the newly-formed North Point tech
team,
Amber met up with me at the school so we could head off on the great tea quest. Our goal was the Happy Valley Tea Estate, the road to which is about 1km from North Point. So...off we set in our usual enthusiastic fashion - all the while dodging Ambassador taxis and diesel spewing Jeeps. At approximately the spot where we thought the road to the Tea Garden should be, we asked a local roadside lounger for directions. The number of words exchanged were not as important as the correct interpretation of the patented Indo-Nepali head wobble. In retrospect, we couldn't begin to imagine the consequences of confusing a "no" for a "yes" or a "I understand what you are saying but I don't necessarily agree with it" for a "if I wasn't worried my head would disengage from my neck, I would wobble until I could wobble no more - so I could completely communicate the folly of your proposed actions". Suffice to say that we took the wobbling for a yes - that the path heading down the hill would lead us to the Promised Land of tea! Well, it was a beautiful walk down....
...which suddenly turned into a walk through a microscopic version of Surrey...albeit with much friendlier locals...
and back out into a lovely, winding, country lane which (note the ominous foreshadowing) descended steeply through the surrounding tea garden....
I should point out that we'd been told that the Happy Valley tea factory was only about a 5 to 10 minute walk from the main road....so at this stage we were getting a little concerned that a half hour walk - so steeply downhill that gravity was causing my toes to slam-dance against the front of my shoes - could quite possibly lead to consequences too tragic to consider. About ten minutes later, the worst was confirmed when the road ran out and the friendly villager at the bottom, upon diligent cross-examination, had to admit that - even though the Happy Valley tea estate was all around us - the factory existed (relative to our current position) at an elevation roughly comparable to the 2nd separation stage of a Saturn V rocket (he was rather fond of the late 1960's). Fighting against the tendency to sit down and wait for the bi-weekly taxi to come by, we tightened our shoelaces, took a deep breath....and began the trek back up (I should add, to our credit, this was free-climb - and no ropes were involved)!
How much time it took us to get to the top of the hill, we can't say. Given the magical nature of the surrounding countryside - especially when viewed through sweat-soaked eyeballs - the whole episode took on a surreal Rip van Winkle-like aura. But...prevail we did...and damned if we weren't going to have some tea (albeit not of the Happy Valley variety). So...sweaty that we were, we trooped into Keventers - donned our brand-spanking new North Point scarves (because now it was cold)....and scarfed down tea, cheese toast and "finger chips".
For those who've spent their entire lives following hockey and baseball....there's nothing here for you....go home! Nope - this is the land (if tv is any indication) of cricket, English Football...and believe it or not, the Rugby World Cup. Apparently, according to Min, it is impossible to watch a rugby match without drinking beer. Being compliant, non-rebellious Canadian types, we were not going to challenge the immutable laws of physics - so a fair amount of beer was consumed...all the while watching the Irish valiantly going down to the Aussies. Here we have hardenend fans doing a respectable job of pretending to be interested (from the left - Moi, Becky, Min, Colin & Emma). We should point out that this was the day after the tea trek fiasco and Amber had spent the afternoon cutting their hair - all of them except Colin....for whom a haircut would have been somewhat of a futile exercise. For volunteers, who often have to bathe in freezing bathrooms out of a bucket, it was pure heaven to borrow our hot shower and be coiffed by a pro!
After all that beer, Amber and I decided to have a balanced dinner - chocolate mousse at the Park Restaurant! It may have looked disconcertingly similar to top soil (with good humus content)...but it was amazing! Amber was kind enough to help me out with my serving after finishing off hers.
Newly fortified with chocolate and sugar, we went off to the Purple Night Club...where we danced the night away (OK...it was only 11:30...but for Darjeeling that's amazing!) to a bizarre mix of hip-hop, Nepali & Bollywood hits.... This was a dangerous strategy as I had to meet up with Pemma (the school's Athletics director) for a tennis game at 8am. Fortunately, he was mixing Tequila & beer....so, in spite of his ninja-like Gurkha reflexes....I went to bed with some hope of "morning after" survival....
Amber met up with me at the school so we could head off on the great tea quest. Our goal was the Happy Valley Tea Estate, the road to which is about 1km from North Point. So...off we set in our usual enthusiastic fashion - all the while dodging Ambassador taxis and diesel spewing Jeeps. At approximately the spot where we thought the road to the Tea Garden should be, we asked a local roadside lounger for directions. The number of words exchanged were not as important as the correct interpretation of the patented Indo-Nepali head wobble. In retrospect, we couldn't begin to imagine the consequences of confusing a "no" for a "yes" or a "I understand what you are saying but I don't necessarily agree with it" for a "if I wasn't worried my head would disengage from my neck, I would wobble until I could wobble no more - so I could completely communicate the folly of your proposed actions". Suffice to say that we took the wobbling for a yes - that the path heading down the hill would lead us to the Promised Land of tea! Well, it was a beautiful walk down....
...which suddenly turned into a walk through a microscopic version of Surrey...albeit with much friendlier locals...
and back out into a lovely, winding, country lane which (note the ominous foreshadowing) descended steeply through the surrounding tea garden....
I should point out that we'd been told that the Happy Valley tea factory was only about a 5 to 10 minute walk from the main road....so at this stage we were getting a little concerned that a half hour walk - so steeply downhill that gravity was causing my toes to slam-dance against the front of my shoes - could quite possibly lead to consequences too tragic to consider. About ten minutes later, the worst was confirmed when the road ran out and the friendly villager at the bottom, upon diligent cross-examination, had to admit that - even though the Happy Valley tea estate was all around us - the factory existed (relative to our current position) at an elevation roughly comparable to the 2nd separation stage of a Saturn V rocket (he was rather fond of the late 1960's). Fighting against the tendency to sit down and wait for the bi-weekly taxi to come by, we tightened our shoelaces, took a deep breath....and began the trek back up (I should add, to our credit, this was free-climb - and no ropes were involved)!
How much time it took us to get to the top of the hill, we can't say. Given the magical nature of the surrounding countryside - especially when viewed through sweat-soaked eyeballs - the whole episode took on a surreal Rip van Winkle-like aura. But...prevail we did...and damned if we weren't going to have some tea (albeit not of the Happy Valley variety). So...sweaty that we were, we trooped into Keventers - donned our brand-spanking new North Point scarves (because now it was cold)....and scarfed down tea, cheese toast and "finger chips".
For those who've spent their entire lives following hockey and baseball....there's nothing here for you....go home! Nope - this is the land (if tv is any indication) of cricket, English Football...and believe it or not, the Rugby World Cup. Apparently, according to Min, it is impossible to watch a rugby match without drinking beer. Being compliant, non-rebellious Canadian types, we were not going to challenge the immutable laws of physics - so a fair amount of beer was consumed...all the while watching the Irish valiantly going down to the Aussies. Here we have hardenend fans doing a respectable job of pretending to be interested (from the left - Moi, Becky, Min, Colin & Emma). We should point out that this was the day after the tea trek fiasco and Amber had spent the afternoon cutting their hair - all of them except Colin....for whom a haircut would have been somewhat of a futile exercise. For volunteers, who often have to bathe in freezing bathrooms out of a bucket, it was pure heaven to borrow our hot shower and be coiffed by a pro!
After all that beer, Amber and I decided to have a balanced dinner - chocolate mousse at the Park Restaurant! It may have looked disconcertingly similar to top soil (with good humus content)...but it was amazing! Amber was kind enough to help me out with my serving after finishing off hers.
Newly fortified with chocolate and sugar, we went off to the Purple Night Club...where we danced the night away (OK...it was only 11:30...but for Darjeeling that's amazing!) to a bizarre mix of hip-hop, Nepali & Bollywood hits.... This was a dangerous strategy as I had to meet up with Pemma (the school's Athletics director) for a tennis game at 8am. Fortunately, he was mixing Tequila & beer....so, in spite of his ninja-like Gurkha reflexes....I went to bed with some hope of "morning after" survival....
Posted at 07:52 PM Read More
Thu - October 30, 2003
Crack-free...and loving it!
A catchup of the last three days...as we've been -
believe it or not...busy!
At the bottom of the elevator-shaft pretending to be
the driveway of our hotel resides this "most-lovely" ad. We can only hope for
such a strong anti-drug message on our construction
projects....
No trip to Darjeeling would be complete without a visit to the Oxford Book store. This place has a great selection of books covering everything from expeditions to Mr. Everest to treatises on Tibetan, Nepalese & Sikkimese culture to (best of all) lots of books by PG Wodehouse - and we're both great fans! So, we stocked up on our reading matter and have been chuckling ever since. I didn't see any myself, but Amber, apparently, discovered a limbo instructional manual while I wasn't looking...
We headed over to North Point yesterday morning as school had restarted after the Diwali holidays. We were invited to participate in the Assembly held at 10:20. It's quite a sight - with the entire uniformed bunch lined up in the quadrangle! We were welcomed by Kinley and presented (with the great Nepali honour) of being draped in a "Kadha" - which is a fine piece of cloth placed around your neck. I had a meeting set up with the senior staff and some interested students to discuss directions for the existing website - plus ideas for developing a far more sophisticated version. Amber had the brilliant idea of, while I was holding court, of joining a beginner's Hindi class. Of course, joining a beginner's Hindi class in India means learning with the Grade 3 lunatics! She loved it...and went back again today...
In the meantime, the entire school was getting it's annual student photos taken. I suggested an informal one with the little guys....and found myself in the middle of a fun-filled riot!
The main street up to the Chowrasta - I think it's Nehru Road - is blocked off from traffic (thankfully) and is lined with stores on one side and stalls on the other. This means it's almost always filled with people - which makes it quite different from the average Canadian strip mall - thank goodness! (oh yeah...the other difference is there is virtually nothing that even resembles a parking lot)!
We'd decided to go out in search of a bank machine a couple of nights ago...but the one on the Chowrasta didn't accept international bank cards. So we were directed to find a machine run by the ICICI (say that 5 times quickly) Bank. We'd seen one on the road below our hotel but, it too, did not want to be generous with its contents (why do all Canadian bank cards use the Plus system and not Cirrus?). Anyway, the friendly security guard (all ATMs have one) directed us to the Poddar Retail Showroom - which also doubles as a moneychanger - and could run my VISA through and give me cash (albeit with a healthy 12% commission - OUCH!). At Poddar we met two lovely young women (Barkha & Nimisha) with whom we hit it off really well and spent the next 2 hours chatting to - about just about everything under the sun. Oh yeah...we also bought a few things....
We had to go back the following evening to pick out yet more items....so B&N treated us to blowing up a few fireworks once they'd closed up the shop. It was craziness I tell you....
I walked over to the school this morning - a really nice 45 minutes - and was given the role of substitute teacher to a grade 9 math class! Apparently I have the ability to babble on for quite some time without any trouble whatsoever - because next thing I knew the bell rang. I started off trying to get them motivated to participate in the running program that I was helping set up - but got a few glazed looks until I suggested that if, after they left school, they did nothing but watch tv and play computer games - they'd get fat and never get a date! Suddenly, they were all ears - and asking questions! Ha!
I met Amber later this morning at Hayden Hall - a place North Point alumni had set up in the early '70's to try and help disadvantaged women. Their goal is to provide poor women with the basics of health care, nutrition and day care for their children - and then help them develop skills so they can help earn for their families. Women are also trained as paramedics and provide all sorts of care (vaccination, mid-wife services, etc...) to around 60 poor villages in the area. They also have a Co-operative Credit Agency set up (& owned by these same women) so that loans can be provided without the necessity of having assets as security. It's really an amazing setup and attracts volunteers from all over the world. Min, with Amber, is a "corporate refugee" from the US and is spending a year volunteering while she does her Phd.
After these women learn to weave carpets, tablecloths, etc...they are given looms so they can produce goods which are then sold in the Co-op's storefront.
Here are some of the crazy-cute kids in the daycare....we arrived during nap-time...
After a lunch of Tibetan Momos at the little cafe run by one of the Co-op-trained women, we hopped into the one of the shared-taxis bound for North Point. The creaky Ambassador had four of us in the back and five - count 'em - five in the front!
We walked home (up hill....more up hill...and yet more up hill....) and worked feverishly to put the weblog entry together...and now have to rush off for a beer with Min & the Engish volunteers (Becky & Emma) at Hayden Hall. We can feel the "Buzz" already....
No trip to Darjeeling would be complete without a visit to the Oxford Book store. This place has a great selection of books covering everything from expeditions to Mr. Everest to treatises on Tibetan, Nepalese & Sikkimese culture to (best of all) lots of books by PG Wodehouse - and we're both great fans! So, we stocked up on our reading matter and have been chuckling ever since. I didn't see any myself, but Amber, apparently, discovered a limbo instructional manual while I wasn't looking...
We headed over to North Point yesterday morning as school had restarted after the Diwali holidays. We were invited to participate in the Assembly held at 10:20. It's quite a sight - with the entire uniformed bunch lined up in the quadrangle! We were welcomed by Kinley and presented (with the great Nepali honour) of being draped in a "Kadha" - which is a fine piece of cloth placed around your neck. I had a meeting set up with the senior staff and some interested students to discuss directions for the existing website - plus ideas for developing a far more sophisticated version. Amber had the brilliant idea of, while I was holding court, of joining a beginner's Hindi class. Of course, joining a beginner's Hindi class in India means learning with the Grade 3 lunatics! She loved it...and went back again today...
In the meantime, the entire school was getting it's annual student photos taken. I suggested an informal one with the little guys....and found myself in the middle of a fun-filled riot!
The main street up to the Chowrasta - I think it's Nehru Road - is blocked off from traffic (thankfully) and is lined with stores on one side and stalls on the other. This means it's almost always filled with people - which makes it quite different from the average Canadian strip mall - thank goodness! (oh yeah...the other difference is there is virtually nothing that even resembles a parking lot)!
We'd decided to go out in search of a bank machine a couple of nights ago...but the one on the Chowrasta didn't accept international bank cards. So we were directed to find a machine run by the ICICI (say that 5 times quickly) Bank. We'd seen one on the road below our hotel but, it too, did not want to be generous with its contents (why do all Canadian bank cards use the Plus system and not Cirrus?). Anyway, the friendly security guard (all ATMs have one) directed us to the Poddar Retail Showroom - which also doubles as a moneychanger - and could run my VISA through and give me cash (albeit with a healthy 12% commission - OUCH!). At Poddar we met two lovely young women (Barkha & Nimisha) with whom we hit it off really well and spent the next 2 hours chatting to - about just about everything under the sun. Oh yeah...we also bought a few things....
We had to go back the following evening to pick out yet more items....so B&N treated us to blowing up a few fireworks once they'd closed up the shop. It was craziness I tell you....
I walked over to the school this morning - a really nice 45 minutes - and was given the role of substitute teacher to a grade 9 math class! Apparently I have the ability to babble on for quite some time without any trouble whatsoever - because next thing I knew the bell rang. I started off trying to get them motivated to participate in the running program that I was helping set up - but got a few glazed looks until I suggested that if, after they left school, they did nothing but watch tv and play computer games - they'd get fat and never get a date! Suddenly, they were all ears - and asking questions! Ha!
I met Amber later this morning at Hayden Hall - a place North Point alumni had set up in the early '70's to try and help disadvantaged women. Their goal is to provide poor women with the basics of health care, nutrition and day care for their children - and then help them develop skills so they can help earn for their families. Women are also trained as paramedics and provide all sorts of care (vaccination, mid-wife services, etc...) to around 60 poor villages in the area. They also have a Co-operative Credit Agency set up (& owned by these same women) so that loans can be provided without the necessity of having assets as security. It's really an amazing setup and attracts volunteers from all over the world. Min, with Amber, is a "corporate refugee" from the US and is spending a year volunteering while she does her Phd.
After these women learn to weave carpets, tablecloths, etc...they are given looms so they can produce goods which are then sold in the Co-op's storefront.
Here are some of the crazy-cute kids in the daycare....we arrived during nap-time...
After a lunch of Tibetan Momos at the little cafe run by one of the Co-op-trained women, we hopped into the one of the shared-taxis bound for North Point. The creaky Ambassador had four of us in the back and five - count 'em - five in the front!
We walked home (up hill....more up hill...and yet more up hill....) and worked feverishly to put the weblog entry together...and now have to rush off for a beer with Min & the Engish volunteers (Becky & Emma) at Hayden Hall. We can feel the "Buzz" already....
Posted at 06:05 PM Read More
Tue - October 28, 2003
Wow!
Finally, finally....Eureka!
What can I say....this was the view at 6:30 this
morning:
What's quite incredible is that those peaks are over 80km away - and still completely overwhelm the horizon. We've spent all morning staring!
Unfortunately, we didn't go on our, hoped-for, hike with the kids up to Tiger Hill early this morning. Yesterday had enough cloudy weather that the school was worried it would continue today (so trying to see a sunrise over Mt. Everest would likely have been futile). In retrospect, though, it would have been AWESOME! We hear, however, that sunset from the same spot is also very cool...so we'll see if we can organize a trip up.
Yesterday was pretty relaxed. Compuset (our regular internet cafe) wasn't open, so there's a double-header of posts going up today. We killed the morning and early afternoon wandering around town examining the local dog population and the vagaries of local veggie burger concepts. On the former topic, there certainly are a lot of dogs around and, except for the two overgrown Pomeranians on a nearby rooftop which appear to be owned by a compulsive knitter, appear to be owned by no one in particular. Here's our knitting friend with one of his canine companions...
The general pooch population, isn't quite so well taken care of....let alone the object of knitted affection. They are pretty cute, however, being the result of generations of random breeding. It seems strangely quirky that, in the land of arranged marriages, the dogs get together for love (or lust)....while in the West, we spend so much energy on "arranging" breedings! Here's a pair of the local gang hanging out in the Chowrasta...both off them desperately in need of a "Love Your Dog" shampoo and blow-dry.
I can just see Mel setting up an NGO for the express purpose of sprucing up the local doggie population (&, of course finding them loving homes).... All these ponderings on canine issues had left us a little hungry so we headed for a fast-food joint called Amigos. There, I developed one of those "homer" cravings - Veggie burger, fries & shake. Of course, I don't think I would have managed the whole lot for $2 at home. All, however, was not rosy in the "Land of the Thunderbolts" ...much to our amazement, the locals had taken the veggie burger concept literally - a couple of slices of tomato & some sliced raw onion in the middle of a bun....
Ahh well...at least the fries were hot and and the shakes cold! As this trip is apparently about eating, eating...and yet more eating...we had to tear ourselves away from Mexico in the Himalayas and head over to the school to meet the good Fathers for tea. It certainly is a very pretty walk....
punctuated by the occasional side-splitting hysteria.....
We arrived at the school and found Kinley performing a credible imitation of Michael Jordan. Amber, normally never wanting to be close to celebrity just couldn't help herself this time....
After a highly technical discussion about the cross-cultural implications of the oil-based radiator heater (Amber had experienced them in China...and the Bhutanese alumni had sent one to Fr. Van. - who now, finally, feels warm in his bedroom after being at the school for 52 years! Unfortunately, 130 year old buildings tend not to have central heat.)
...we polished off a variety of cookies & Diwali bread with tea and then headed off to have a look at Loreto School....& yet more tea...!
This is the school where my Mum spent some very happy years in the mid-'50's.
Apparently, most of it looks the same - except there are no boarding students anymore. Don't worry Mum...we took lots of pix! We were shown around by the rather feisty Sister Carmela (who on at least one occasion produced a rather Alice & Wonderland'ish - "Off with their heads!") and the somewhat more sedate Sister Phyllis.
A couple of hours later, still not sated with cookies, jam & bread & tea....we headed off for dinner. We took the good Fathers out for dinner at...wait for it...Glenary's (the third floor restaurant this time) and consumed Veggie Sizzlers. These things arrive still sizzling on hot plates and contain potatoes, paneer, carrots, potato cutlets and a variety of other beaten down vegetables. I, obviously misguided, decided to try a glass of Indian red wine...hmm...there's a very good reason why most locals drink beer! After a couple of hours of great conversation and laughter, we headed back to the hotel...and were asleep by 9:30!
Pathetic really....but it did mean we woke up this morning in time to see that staggering view outside the window!
PS: the Indian-English word of the day is "scamster"....as in one who conducts a scam. Love it!
What's quite incredible is that those peaks are over 80km away - and still completely overwhelm the horizon. We've spent all morning staring!
Unfortunately, we didn't go on our, hoped-for, hike with the kids up to Tiger Hill early this morning. Yesterday had enough cloudy weather that the school was worried it would continue today (so trying to see a sunrise over Mt. Everest would likely have been futile). In retrospect, though, it would have been AWESOME! We hear, however, that sunset from the same spot is also very cool...so we'll see if we can organize a trip up.
Yesterday was pretty relaxed. Compuset (our regular internet cafe) wasn't open, so there's a double-header of posts going up today. We killed the morning and early afternoon wandering around town examining the local dog population and the vagaries of local veggie burger concepts. On the former topic, there certainly are a lot of dogs around and, except for the two overgrown Pomeranians on a nearby rooftop which appear to be owned by a compulsive knitter, appear to be owned by no one in particular. Here's our knitting friend with one of his canine companions...
The general pooch population, isn't quite so well taken care of....let alone the object of knitted affection. They are pretty cute, however, being the result of generations of random breeding. It seems strangely quirky that, in the land of arranged marriages, the dogs get together for love (or lust)....while in the West, we spend so much energy on "arranging" breedings! Here's a pair of the local gang hanging out in the Chowrasta...both off them desperately in need of a "Love Your Dog" shampoo and blow-dry.
I can just see Mel setting up an NGO for the express purpose of sprucing up the local doggie population (&, of course finding them loving homes).... All these ponderings on canine issues had left us a little hungry so we headed for a fast-food joint called Amigos. There, I developed one of those "homer" cravings - Veggie burger, fries & shake. Of course, I don't think I would have managed the whole lot for $2 at home. All, however, was not rosy in the "Land of the Thunderbolts" ...much to our amazement, the locals had taken the veggie burger concept literally - a couple of slices of tomato & some sliced raw onion in the middle of a bun....
Ahh well...at least the fries were hot and and the shakes cold! As this trip is apparently about eating, eating...and yet more eating...we had to tear ourselves away from Mexico in the Himalayas and head over to the school to meet the good Fathers for tea. It certainly is a very pretty walk....
punctuated by the occasional side-splitting hysteria.....
We arrived at the school and found Kinley performing a credible imitation of Michael Jordan. Amber, normally never wanting to be close to celebrity just couldn't help herself this time....
After a highly technical discussion about the cross-cultural implications of the oil-based radiator heater (Amber had experienced them in China...and the Bhutanese alumni had sent one to Fr. Van. - who now, finally, feels warm in his bedroom after being at the school for 52 years! Unfortunately, 130 year old buildings tend not to have central heat.)
...we polished off a variety of cookies & Diwali bread with tea and then headed off to have a look at Loreto School....& yet more tea...!
This is the school where my Mum spent some very happy years in the mid-'50's.
Apparently, most of it looks the same - except there are no boarding students anymore. Don't worry Mum...we took lots of pix! We were shown around by the rather feisty Sister Carmela (who on at least one occasion produced a rather Alice & Wonderland'ish - "Off with their heads!") and the somewhat more sedate Sister Phyllis.
A couple of hours later, still not sated with cookies, jam & bread & tea....we headed off for dinner. We took the good Fathers out for dinner at...wait for it...Glenary's (the third floor restaurant this time) and consumed Veggie Sizzlers. These things arrive still sizzling on hot plates and contain potatoes, paneer, carrots, potato cutlets and a variety of other beaten down vegetables. I, obviously misguided, decided to try a glass of Indian red wine...hmm...there's a very good reason why most locals drink beer! After a couple of hours of great conversation and laughter, we headed back to the hotel...and were asleep by 9:30!
Pathetic really....but it did mean we woke up this morning in time to see that staggering view outside the window!
PS: the Indian-English word of the day is "scamster"....as in one who conducts a scam. Love it!
Posted at 11:34 AM Read More
Mon - October 27, 2003
Atmospheric Interactions
Toast & Tea, Cream Cones, Cocoa & Jolly
Jesuits.....
It's quite difficult to put into words the
awe-inspiring vista that struck us upon opening the curtains this morning. The
clouds were still around - but in between the highest clouds and those filling
the valley floor, we saw enough of Kanchenjunga to leave us gasping for breath.
For you Trekkies out there, we'd felt we'd been living in a bit of a holodeck
world for the last few days (ie. in a cloud) so we had no idea of the scale of
the monster lurking just across the valley. And then, there it
was....
To give you an idea of the size of this mountain (and the others around it aren't much lower), imagine taking Grouse Mountain and stacking it upon itself over 8 times! The "Grind" would take on a whole new meaning.... Kanchenjunga is the 3rd tallest mountain on Earth and, at 28,156 feet, is only about 800 feet lower than Mount Everest.
I'm not sure where the original saying "if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes" originated....but it certainly applies here. There's rarely that feeling of being socked in (even when you are) because the clouds appear to be constantly commuting to somewhere or other (or as Amber quite brilliantly put it...God appears to be pulling his socks up). Here's hoping his socks spend some time in the laundromat because we want MORE of those mountains!
Yesterday, as we wrote in the previous entry, did not provide atmospheric conditions designed to bring joy to those having a soft spot for Cancun! However, I'm sure some of those romantic-era poets would have been quite inspired. After quaffing some "aloo paratha", pakoras & lassis at a funky little restaurant (Fiesta), we walked up to the Chowrasta (the town square). This open area is surrounded by shops, has a bandstand and a little park at the far end. Of course, you'd never have known at the moment this picture was taken....how cool is that?....reminds me of some of those paintings of Victorian-era London fogs....'cept I doubt any of those Victorians would be indulging in displays of public hugging!
Being in the clouds did not, however, prevent us from observing the oddly co-dependent relationship that seems to exist between the local constabulary and the hotel next door...
While we were checking out the Pleasure Hut, much to my embarrassment, we ran smack into Father Kinley....towing along 3 young Swedish guys who were staying at the school. The father (biological not priestly) of one of the Swedes had gone to North Point and his son wanted to check it out....and brought along a couple of his friends for good measure. They had been here for about 10 days and just loved it. Given we had now spent at least five minutes chatting to these guys, of course, the weather had changed completely....so we decided go for a walk together around the Mall (a very mini version of the Sea Wall).
While walking around we were able to look down into the valleys stretching away toward the towns of Kalimpong (3 hours away) and Lebong (about 20 minutes). The hills are incredibly green, with little cottages amidst the tea gardens for as far as the eye can see. It reminded us, strangely enough, of the English countryside - but on much steeper terrain - so maybe with a bit of Switzerland thrown in, as well.
I'd had a good talk with Father Kinley the day before, but this was the first opportunity Amber had to chat to him. We both were left very impressed - he's obviously a guy who cares greatly about his students (we were constantly being waved to) and, on top of that, he has a great educational & business background - MEd from the University of Manitoba (we gave him our sympathies!) and an MBA from India's top Management School. Apart from all that he's a super nice guy with great energy and very funny, to boot! So...I'm really looking forward to working with him this week once the school starts up after the Diwali holidays. We're meeting up with him & Father Van at the school today for tea at about 3pm and then they're going to take us over to the sister school, Loreto (where my Mum spent a few years). Don't worry Mum...lot's of pix will be taken...and we'll see if some of the older nuns (must be ancient by now!) remember you!
After we left Kinley & the Swedes to attempt the gargantuan task of booking tickets on Indian Airlines, we had to get our bi-hourly tea fix. So...back to Glenary's for their "Signature" brand...combined with a macaroon for Amber and a cream cone for me (it became the "Cone of Silence"...because it was soooo good, I had to stop talking and focus on the devouring). We came back to Glenary's for dinner (they have a formal restaurant on the third floor, the bakery/cafe on the main, and a "resto-bar" on the lower floor). It was the resto-bar ("The Buzz") that drew us for dinner....complete with a live band which produced everything from Santana to Supertramp.
By the end of dinner, it must have been about 9:30...which meant we were falling asleep! I have no idea what causes this bizarre time shift in wake/sleep patterns comes from...maybe it's the mountain air??? Besides, it's not a bad thing....there's absolutely nothing to do after 10!
OK...it's now around 11am on Monday...I'm sipping a hot cocoa..and it's brilliantly sunny...except the infernal clouds are blocking the Monster! Here's hoping their rush hour commute ends soon....'cuz we want to go to Tiger Hill...even at the un-Godly hour of 2am...fingers crossed!
To give you an idea of the size of this mountain (and the others around it aren't much lower), imagine taking Grouse Mountain and stacking it upon itself over 8 times! The "Grind" would take on a whole new meaning.... Kanchenjunga is the 3rd tallest mountain on Earth and, at 28,156 feet, is only about 800 feet lower than Mount Everest.
I'm not sure where the original saying "if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes" originated....but it certainly applies here. There's rarely that feeling of being socked in (even when you are) because the clouds appear to be constantly commuting to somewhere or other (or as Amber quite brilliantly put it...God appears to be pulling his socks up). Here's hoping his socks spend some time in the laundromat because we want MORE of those mountains!
Yesterday, as we wrote in the previous entry, did not provide atmospheric conditions designed to bring joy to those having a soft spot for Cancun! However, I'm sure some of those romantic-era poets would have been quite inspired. After quaffing some "aloo paratha", pakoras & lassis at a funky little restaurant (Fiesta), we walked up to the Chowrasta (the town square). This open area is surrounded by shops, has a bandstand and a little park at the far end. Of course, you'd never have known at the moment this picture was taken....how cool is that?....reminds me of some of those paintings of Victorian-era London fogs....'cept I doubt any of those Victorians would be indulging in displays of public hugging!
Being in the clouds did not, however, prevent us from observing the oddly co-dependent relationship that seems to exist between the local constabulary and the hotel next door...
While we were checking out the Pleasure Hut, much to my embarrassment, we ran smack into Father Kinley....towing along 3 young Swedish guys who were staying at the school. The father (biological not priestly) of one of the Swedes had gone to North Point and his son wanted to check it out....and brought along a couple of his friends for good measure. They had been here for about 10 days and just loved it. Given we had now spent at least five minutes chatting to these guys, of course, the weather had changed completely....so we decided go for a walk together around the Mall (a very mini version of the Sea Wall).
While walking around we were able to look down into the valleys stretching away toward the towns of Kalimpong (3 hours away) and Lebong (about 20 minutes). The hills are incredibly green, with little cottages amidst the tea gardens for as far as the eye can see. It reminded us, strangely enough, of the English countryside - but on much steeper terrain - so maybe with a bit of Switzerland thrown in, as well.
I'd had a good talk with Father Kinley the day before, but this was the first opportunity Amber had to chat to him. We both were left very impressed - he's obviously a guy who cares greatly about his students (we were constantly being waved to) and, on top of that, he has a great educational & business background - MEd from the University of Manitoba (we gave him our sympathies!) and an MBA from India's top Management School. Apart from all that he's a super nice guy with great energy and very funny, to boot! So...I'm really looking forward to working with him this week once the school starts up after the Diwali holidays. We're meeting up with him & Father Van at the school today for tea at about 3pm and then they're going to take us over to the sister school, Loreto (where my Mum spent a few years). Don't worry Mum...lot's of pix will be taken...and we'll see if some of the older nuns (must be ancient by now!) remember you!
After we left Kinley & the Swedes to attempt the gargantuan task of booking tickets on Indian Airlines, we had to get our bi-hourly tea fix. So...back to Glenary's for their "Signature" brand...combined with a macaroon for Amber and a cream cone for me (it became the "Cone of Silence"...because it was soooo good, I had to stop talking and focus on the devouring). We came back to Glenary's for dinner (they have a formal restaurant on the third floor, the bakery/cafe on the main, and a "resto-bar" on the lower floor). It was the resto-bar ("The Buzz") that drew us for dinner....complete with a live band which produced everything from Santana to Supertramp.
By the end of dinner, it must have been about 9:30...which meant we were falling asleep! I have no idea what causes this bizarre time shift in wake/sleep patterns comes from...maybe it's the mountain air??? Besides, it's not a bad thing....there's absolutely nothing to do after 10!
OK...it's now around 11am on Monday...I'm sipping a hot cocoa..and it's brilliantly sunny...except the infernal clouds are blocking the Monster! Here's hoping their rush hour commute ends soon....'cuz we want to go to Tiger Hill...even at the un-Godly hour of 2am...fingers crossed!
Posted at 11:12 AM Read More
Sun - October 26, 2003
A Walk in the Clouds...
Mountains...what mountains?
We awoke to our first Darjeeling morning wondering
where the world had gone.....and, as I write this, we're wondering the same on
our third morning here. This was about an hour ago (uhh...and still the same
now).
It's actually very cool walking around in the middle of a cloud - especially as they're constantly moving on and off the hillside. The whole town is built on the side of a hill so you're almost never walking on level ground. Here I was thinking I was getting a break from the hill workouts in my running clinic...uhh...even the driveway up to our hotel has the grade of that insane Belmont St. near Jericho Beach (so Andrew...not to worry...I'll still be in shape when I get back).
After breakfast on our first morning, we rappelled down to the Internet cafe at the bottom of the hotel's driveway. There we met Mr. Darjeeling Internet Cafe (Mukund) who welcomed us to a bank of computer monitors all hooked up to the web by, believe it or not, high-speed DSL. So...finally...finally...we could upload all the weblogs we'd been working on over the past few days. One slight hiccup...my laptop refused to recognize the Internet connection (no doubt, it was speaking in Nepali)...so the next hour was an exercise in frustration. At least Amber could check her email on one of the other computers. Walking around later, the solution dawned on me - so that evening our first upload went out into the ether. Of course, for the staggering price of Rs.30/hour (about $1Cdn)....all that cafeing is not going to break the bank. Anyway, after the frustrating technical roadblocks...there was only one solution - a cup of Darjeeling's finest! Off we trundled to Glenary's which has a great bakery cafe with a fabulous (at the moment hypothetical) view of the surrounding mountains. A large pot of tea, a donut, something that resembled a hot-cross bun on steroids, and a cashew tart...and we were ready to brave the "lower taxi stand".
That afternoon we decided to head to North Point school to meet up with Fr. Van and generally check it out. We had to wander down all sorts of crazy narrow alleys (roads, really) to find the "lower taxi stand". After a couple of wrong turns, we hopped into a more than rickety Ambassador (with 4 others) and off we went. It's a good thing the ride was mainly downhill because the engine must have cut out at least five times on the short ride. Hey...what do you want for 8 cents - for both of us. Upon arrival, Amber had discovered that her blood sugar levels needed replenishing immediately! I, of course, know better than to ignore such emergencies. We found a tiny (and I mean TINY) shack selling Tibetan Momos (dumplings filled with cabbage)...and dipped in chili sauce....mmmm! After downing four of these each, we walked over to the school and discovered a fair had broken out on the main school field.
On the way down, Amber decided that life wasn't quite exciting enough....so decided the roadside puchka (the "u" is pronounced as in "put") wallah deserved some attention. This was my reaction....
to no avail....
Let's just say that the puchkas tasted great....but that the next couple of days weren't the most comfortable Amber has ever spent! Anyway, freshly fortified on puchkas we went down to explore the fair. They had ferris wheels, merry-go-rounds, pirate boats, etc....but they all looked like they'd come straight out of some gypsy fair of the 1940's. The WCB would have had a fit...but then again, they'd all have had cardiac arrests over just about anything in India! This was one of the younger operators....
A bit of wandering about...and more Momos at one of the stands and we began the trek back up....waaay up....the hill to the school.
The school's big theatrical production for the last part of the year (their school year runs from Feb to Nov) was being performed that afternoon - and we'd been invited. Joseph & The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat was on the playbill...(Karen Seaboyer you missed out!)...and they were really great.
I'd seen a professional version in Stanley Park last year and these guys weren't far behind. Amber & I gave them a standing ovation! Of course, I mentioned our opinions to the Headmaster...who immediately handed me a microphone and insisted I tell the boys myself...which I did...and got a standing ovation in return (we love fame!).
Given our usual 6 am wakeups, we were pretty zonked so headed off to bed. The next day (yesterday) didn't produce anything of much consequence. Amber wasn't feeling well (puchka revenge) so hung around the hotel for most of the day. I went off and met with Kinley Tshering, the headmaster to discuss marketing plans, web development, fund raising etc.... We're hoping to join him and about 100 of the school kids on a hike to Tiger Hill on EARLY Tuesday morning to watch the sunrise over Everest. Assuming the weather clears up, the plan is to be picked up at 2:30 am on Tuesday, drive to the base of Tiger Hill and then walk up to the summit over the next couple of hours - in time to watch the sunrise at 5:30am. The school will then deliver breakfast which will be cooked at the summit...and then we'll all walk back down the hill. Should be a great adventure....so everyone pray to the weather Gods....!!!!!
It's actually very cool walking around in the middle of a cloud - especially as they're constantly moving on and off the hillside. The whole town is built on the side of a hill so you're almost never walking on level ground. Here I was thinking I was getting a break from the hill workouts in my running clinic...uhh...even the driveway up to our hotel has the grade of that insane Belmont St. near Jericho Beach (so Andrew...not to worry...I'll still be in shape when I get back).
After breakfast on our first morning, we rappelled down to the Internet cafe at the bottom of the hotel's driveway. There we met Mr. Darjeeling Internet Cafe (Mukund) who welcomed us to a bank of computer monitors all hooked up to the web by, believe it or not, high-speed DSL. So...finally...finally...we could upload all the weblogs we'd been working on over the past few days. One slight hiccup...my laptop refused to recognize the Internet connection (no doubt, it was speaking in Nepali)...so the next hour was an exercise in frustration. At least Amber could check her email on one of the other computers. Walking around later, the solution dawned on me - so that evening our first upload went out into the ether. Of course, for the staggering price of Rs.30/hour (about $1Cdn)....all that cafeing is not going to break the bank. Anyway, after the frustrating technical roadblocks...there was only one solution - a cup of Darjeeling's finest! Off we trundled to Glenary's which has a great bakery cafe with a fabulous (at the moment hypothetical) view of the surrounding mountains. A large pot of tea, a donut, something that resembled a hot-cross bun on steroids, and a cashew tart...and we were ready to brave the "lower taxi stand".
That afternoon we decided to head to North Point school to meet up with Fr. Van and generally check it out. We had to wander down all sorts of crazy narrow alleys (roads, really) to find the "lower taxi stand". After a couple of wrong turns, we hopped into a more than rickety Ambassador (with 4 others) and off we went. It's a good thing the ride was mainly downhill because the engine must have cut out at least five times on the short ride. Hey...what do you want for 8 cents - for both of us. Upon arrival, Amber had discovered that her blood sugar levels needed replenishing immediately! I, of course, know better than to ignore such emergencies. We found a tiny (and I mean TINY) shack selling Tibetan Momos (dumplings filled with cabbage)...and dipped in chili sauce....mmmm! After downing four of these each, we walked over to the school and discovered a fair had broken out on the main school field.
On the way down, Amber decided that life wasn't quite exciting enough....so decided the roadside puchka (the "u" is pronounced as in "put") wallah deserved some attention. This was my reaction....
to no avail....
Let's just say that the puchkas tasted great....but that the next couple of days weren't the most comfortable Amber has ever spent! Anyway, freshly fortified on puchkas we went down to explore the fair. They had ferris wheels, merry-go-rounds, pirate boats, etc....but they all looked like they'd come straight out of some gypsy fair of the 1940's. The WCB would have had a fit...but then again, they'd all have had cardiac arrests over just about anything in India! This was one of the younger operators....
A bit of wandering about...and more Momos at one of the stands and we began the trek back up....waaay up....the hill to the school.
The school's big theatrical production for the last part of the year (their school year runs from Feb to Nov) was being performed that afternoon - and we'd been invited. Joseph & The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat was on the playbill...(Karen Seaboyer you missed out!)...and they were really great.
I'd seen a professional version in Stanley Park last year and these guys weren't far behind. Amber & I gave them a standing ovation! Of course, I mentioned our opinions to the Headmaster...who immediately handed me a microphone and insisted I tell the boys myself...which I did...and got a standing ovation in return (we love fame!).
Given our usual 6 am wakeups, we were pretty zonked so headed off to bed. The next day (yesterday) didn't produce anything of much consequence. Amber wasn't feeling well (puchka revenge) so hung around the hotel for most of the day. I went off and met with Kinley Tshering, the headmaster to discuss marketing plans, web development, fund raising etc.... We're hoping to join him and about 100 of the school kids on a hike to Tiger Hill on EARLY Tuesday morning to watch the sunrise over Everest. Assuming the weather clears up, the plan is to be picked up at 2:30 am on Tuesday, drive to the base of Tiger Hill and then walk up to the summit over the next couple of hours - in time to watch the sunrise at 5:30am. The school will then deliver breakfast which will be cooked at the summit...and then we'll all walk back down the hill. Should be a great adventure....so everyone pray to the weather Gods....!!!!!
Posted at 11:47 AM Read More
Thu - October 23, 2003
Now These are Mountains!
From choking smog to crystal mountain air albeit via
a "road" which would be a challenge for extreme mountain bikers!
Another un-Godly wake up time of 5am greeted us this
morning...what's with that! Fortunately, we discovered the outdoor restaurant
opened at 6...Hooray! On the dot of 6:05 we walked over and, much to our
amazement, found it virtually full of insane, sleep-deprived, golfers! I've
gotta say, the food here is simple but it's great comfort food! Hot tea, crisp
buttered toast, spicy scrambled eggs...mmm....we love this place! The complex
we're staying in was built a few years ago and is called, much to Amber's great
delight, The Far
Pavilion!
The cottage section is over to the left of the main complex. In the foreground is the first tee of the golf course. I'm definitely going to play a round when we come back...and the caddies are trying to convince Amber of their teaching skills should she decide to pick up a club. We had to check out fairly early in order to make sure we got to the airport in time. I mentioned to the manager, Francis, that I was working on a screenplay which was set at the Club so he's offered to show me the Club's archives when we get back and also show us around to the riding stables, etc....Excellent! The army of helpers poured us into a particularly wobbly taxi and off we went into town (fortunately in somewhat less humid weather than last night). I had spied a Citibank branch the previous evening after suffering rejections at the other less hospitable banks so we decided to give my bank card one last try. One complication...we had to pull over opposite the bank...cross our side of the road to the middle divider...find a gap in the fence...and then dash across the remaining half...all the while dodging diesel-spewing buses and honking taxis. So...fondly remembering my extended health coverage...off I went leaving Amber to conduct light conversation with our cabbie which, apparently, went: Amber (Garam hai?); Cabbie: (Ha Memsahib)....silence.... Much to my great joy, Citibank was kind enough to hand me a wad of Rupees and I happily took life and limb in hand and braved the return trip. Amber, deciding that I shouldn't be the only to have all the fun, repeated the exercise, leaving me to have a slightly more in-depth conversation with the cabbie (mostly having to do with Amber's road crossing techniques).
It's very strange that the Calcutta airport's Domestic Departure terminal is so much nicer than the International Arrivals section. Maybe they feel that spiffing up the International section would squash a visitor's preconceived notions of what they're about to experience - and that would just be too cruel! We almost missed our boarding call because Amber became totally enamoured with the Liptons Tea store - and their selection of powdered chai concentrates.
After an uneventful flight (except for being subjected to Zamfir's version of Candle in the Wind over and over again), we landed at Bagdogra airport in Siliguri. This is the town in the plains which acts as a gateway to the Eastern Himalayas - but it was still 29 degrees! There, we were met by the smiling faces of Francis and Sonam, representatives of North Point school, who had come down to pick us up. Francis, as he puts it, is the Minister of Housing for the school while, as we found out later, Sonam is a driver with the driving skills of Jacques Villeneuve! To get to Darjeeling you go through a town called Kurseong (which is about halfway up). Generally the trip up takes about 3 hours but if you take a shortcut to Kurseong, you can shave about 1/2 an hour off the trip. Efficient bunch that they are....the shortcut it was!
The first section of the drive took us through gently rising slopes with tea bushes dotting the landscapes.
Then it got serious! Yowsa....there was a lot of white knuckling going on. Amber's usual description of herself being a long asparagus....could more accurately be described as a freshly plucked piece off celery! For those that have visited the Sunshine Coast and gone up some of those really steep driveways beside the highway...imagine that grade with the width of a driveway going on for about an hour of driving. From Siliguri to Kurseong, we rose from 400ft up to 3,400 feet in an almost constantly vertical manner. Other than the hyperventilating, it was spectacular - we went right up the side of a mountain...and you could look down to see where you'd come from. The camera can't really do it justice!
.....And this really says it all!
We stopped for coffee and valium (kidding) in Kurseong where Amber was the subject of great fascination with her tongue-stud! The Nepalese were entranced! We set off on the equally spectacular final hour and a bit to Darjeeling. It's hard to describe just how beautiful this drive is. There are all sorts of flowers growing wild at the side of the road, the hillsides stretch out of sight both below and above....with houses and tea gardens disappearing into the distance - thousands of feet in either direction. Combine that with fresh-faced Nepalese kids smiling at us, and it begins to look just a bit like paradise. There are a lot of kids around as this section of the hills is where many kids are sent to boarding schools - about 300 schools, according to Francis. We cruised into the busy town of Darjeeling and made our way to Sinclairs Hotel. The road up to the hotel is half the width of the average driveway and so steep that you're quite breathless after walking up it. How our SUV squeezed up it, I'm still not sure.
We checked in (and it's chilly without central heat) and got familiar with the hotel's facilities. Nothing terribly fancy here but the staff is very friendly and eager to help. Thank God for the portable room heater....we've gone from sweltering heat to damp cold in the usual disorientingly speedy manner. We got ourselves organized and walked down into the town for a bit of a look. There are lots of streetside stalls and funky eating joints. We walked into a place called Glenary's (which has an amazing bakery downstairs and a restaurant/bar upstairs). A beer and soup later and we were ready to call it a night. We thought we were sleepy until we had to walk back up the road to the hotel....let's just say the heartrate gets right up there. Wide awake...and wheezing...we struggled up the stairs to the room. It's amazing what being 7000 feet up does to your aerobic capacity.
Our first evening in the Himalayas came to a sleepy end with us looking forward to 12 days of R&R.
The cottage section is over to the left of the main complex. In the foreground is the first tee of the golf course. I'm definitely going to play a round when we come back...and the caddies are trying to convince Amber of their teaching skills should she decide to pick up a club. We had to check out fairly early in order to make sure we got to the airport in time. I mentioned to the manager, Francis, that I was working on a screenplay which was set at the Club so he's offered to show me the Club's archives when we get back and also show us around to the riding stables, etc....Excellent! The army of helpers poured us into a particularly wobbly taxi and off we went into town (fortunately in somewhat less humid weather than last night). I had spied a Citibank branch the previous evening after suffering rejections at the other less hospitable banks so we decided to give my bank card one last try. One complication...we had to pull over opposite the bank...cross our side of the road to the middle divider...find a gap in the fence...and then dash across the remaining half...all the while dodging diesel-spewing buses and honking taxis. So...fondly remembering my extended health coverage...off I went leaving Amber to conduct light conversation with our cabbie which, apparently, went: Amber (Garam hai?); Cabbie: (Ha Memsahib)....silence.... Much to my great joy, Citibank was kind enough to hand me a wad of Rupees and I happily took life and limb in hand and braved the return trip. Amber, deciding that I shouldn't be the only to have all the fun, repeated the exercise, leaving me to have a slightly more in-depth conversation with the cabbie (mostly having to do with Amber's road crossing techniques).
It's very strange that the Calcutta airport's Domestic Departure terminal is so much nicer than the International Arrivals section. Maybe they feel that spiffing up the International section would squash a visitor's preconceived notions of what they're about to experience - and that would just be too cruel! We almost missed our boarding call because Amber became totally enamoured with the Liptons Tea store - and their selection of powdered chai concentrates.
After an uneventful flight (except for being subjected to Zamfir's version of Candle in the Wind over and over again), we landed at Bagdogra airport in Siliguri. This is the town in the plains which acts as a gateway to the Eastern Himalayas - but it was still 29 degrees! There, we were met by the smiling faces of Francis and Sonam, representatives of North Point school, who had come down to pick us up. Francis, as he puts it, is the Minister of Housing for the school while, as we found out later, Sonam is a driver with the driving skills of Jacques Villeneuve! To get to Darjeeling you go through a town called Kurseong (which is about halfway up). Generally the trip up takes about 3 hours but if you take a shortcut to Kurseong, you can shave about 1/2 an hour off the trip. Efficient bunch that they are....the shortcut it was!
The first section of the drive took us through gently rising slopes with tea bushes dotting the landscapes.
Then it got serious! Yowsa....there was a lot of white knuckling going on. Amber's usual description of herself being a long asparagus....could more accurately be described as a freshly plucked piece off celery! For those that have visited the Sunshine Coast and gone up some of those really steep driveways beside the highway...imagine that grade with the width of a driveway going on for about an hour of driving. From Siliguri to Kurseong, we rose from 400ft up to 3,400 feet in an almost constantly vertical manner. Other than the hyperventilating, it was spectacular - we went right up the side of a mountain...and you could look down to see where you'd come from. The camera can't really do it justice!
.....And this really says it all!
We stopped for coffee and valium (kidding) in Kurseong where Amber was the subject of great fascination with her tongue-stud! The Nepalese were entranced! We set off on the equally spectacular final hour and a bit to Darjeeling. It's hard to describe just how beautiful this drive is. There are all sorts of flowers growing wild at the side of the road, the hillsides stretch out of sight both below and above....with houses and tea gardens disappearing into the distance - thousands of feet in either direction. Combine that with fresh-faced Nepalese kids smiling at us, and it begins to look just a bit like paradise. There are a lot of kids around as this section of the hills is where many kids are sent to boarding schools - about 300 schools, according to Francis. We cruised into the busy town of Darjeeling and made our way to Sinclairs Hotel. The road up to the hotel is half the width of the average driveway and so steep that you're quite breathless after walking up it. How our SUV squeezed up it, I'm still not sure.
We checked in (and it's chilly without central heat) and got familiar with the hotel's facilities. Nothing terribly fancy here but the staff is very friendly and eager to help. Thank God for the portable room heater....we've gone from sweltering heat to damp cold in the usual disorientingly speedy manner. We got ourselves organized and walked down into the town for a bit of a look. There are lots of streetside stalls and funky eating joints. We walked into a place called Glenary's (which has an amazing bakery downstairs and a restaurant/bar upstairs). A beer and soup later and we were ready to call it a night. We thought we were sleepy until we had to walk back up the road to the hotel....let's just say the heartrate gets right up there. Wide awake...and wheezing...we struggled up the stairs to the room. It's amazing what being 7000 feet up does to your aerobic capacity.
Our first evening in the Himalayas came to a sleepy end with us looking forward to 12 days of R&R.
Posted at 01:20 PM Read More
Wed - October 22, 2003
Oh Calcutta!
We LOV E our Oasis!
It's quite amazing how a four hour flight can
transfer you from the most efficient and clean place on the planet to the
complete reverse! The first hint that we were no longer in "OZ" was the
hour-long wait for our baggage to move the 100 or so metres between the plane
and the 1950's era luggage belt. I might add that we were the only flight to
have arrived and bags did manage to dribble out starting about 20 minutes after
arrival. Why some bags took 20 minutes and others over an hour (there were still
a large number of people still waiting when we left) is one of those questions
only answered with the patented Indian head wobble (more on this later). This
procedure certainly produced all sorts of comments from the locals around me
such as "thees place is rrreally going to the dogs" and "vat is wrong vith this
country"? We left the mutterings behind and ventured out into the main section
of the airport where I changed Cdn$20 - and a miraculous amount of money was
handed to me. One prepaid taxi receipt later and out we headed into the great
unknown.
We had a good chuckle at our first taxi interaction. Our luggage was loaded into this rather creaky and bent Ambassador (picture a 1952 Morris Oxford - still being made now) and, who we thought was the driver, hopped into the cab and started driving off. We got about 30 feet and then he stopped....which naturally resulted in a "Hey...what's up?" from me. "Oh no sir....your driver is just coming" came the reply. Before Luggage Loader/Warmer Upper of the cab hopped out, he'd made sure he let us know that he was a poor man just trying to eke out a living loading luggage and warming up taxis. Sheesh....ahh well...he got a tip for his troubles. Our real driver finally arrived and we meandered off (I mean that literally) winding our way along the divided highway between sleeping dogs and peeing cows. A 1/2 hour drive (through a rather incredibly smoky atmosphere) and we turned into the oasis - the Tollygunge Club. Check-in was the usual entertainment with the older clerk and his younger assistant doing a credible imitation of a Saturday Night Live skit. Young clerk: "Sir, you are being a member here?" Old Clerk: "No, no...this sahib is having a reservation". Young clerk: "Very sorry sahib....please be filling in the registration book"....and so on and so on. Once the registration festivities had been completed, the usual army of helpers arrived to carry our luggage to the cottage. Rolling the bags was, apparently, far too modern a concept for this rather traditional establishment - so the bags were hoisted onto a variety of heads (not ours). The rooms were quite nice (entry area with a sofa and chair overlooking the golf course, huge air-conditioned bedroom with an attached bathroom). The door key was quite hilarious (picture Victorian-era). The room number was written on a long rectangular piece of metal - which you had to put into a slot inside the room to have the lights come on. Of course, nothing is that easy in India....every now and then the lights would mysteriously go out and we had to jiggle the key fob...and back on they came.
Maybe it's the tropics... but 5:30am...and there I was wide awake! Definitely never happens at home! So out of the room I sneaked and watched the early morning golfers go by in the morning mist.
Amber finally rolled out of bed at the slovenly hour of 6:30, peeked her nose out of the air-conditioning...and said "Oh....I forgot! (referring to the early morning 28 degrees outside). We meandered over to the "Shamiana" which is an outside restaurant overlooking the 18th hole where we prepared to while away a couple of hours sipping tea and reading the paper. I have to admit, we were very successful!
We had decided we were going to take it easy for the day and a half we would be in Calcutta before heading off to Darjeeling and, so much to the decadent delight of all concerned, we discovered that the Club had spa facilities! Well...there went the afternoon! We arrived to much tittering from the staff and soon Amber had them wrapped around her finger. Before you could say the words "hot oil treatment", Amber was signed up for one of those & shampoo and blow dry.
I found myself being pedicured by a guy who was in the midst of putting colour into his own hair and manicured by one very shy girl.
We certainly provided the entertainment for the afternoon....especially after they discovered Amber was a hair pro. Next thing you know there were deep and profound conversations going on about the intricacies of hair colouring, perusal of their surprisingly up-to-date L'Oreal colour lines and comparisons of customer preferences 12 time zones away. My little excesses had been completed while Amber still had to get her eyebrows threaded (it's a mystery to me!). So...off I went to explore parts of the club. Since I completely forgot to bring along the camera, we'll post descriptions and pics when we come back after the Darjeeling jaunt.
I had hoped to go and meet up with the Secretary of the Lake Club (which was the rowing club my Grandfather had belonged to - and where I have some very fond childhood memories). Of course, actually connecting with a telephone number over a Calcutta landline is a task best seen in the light of buying lottery tickets. So...after numerous attempts resulting in a variety of beeping noises, wrong numbers and cryptic telephone company messages ("Thees number does noot exeest"), I gave up and decided to simply show up. So out we ventured from the Oasis into the teeming streets....
That's not what I call a "Streetcar Named Desire"!....that pith helmet, on the other hand...??? That taxi (an Ambassador) is also pretty indicative of the average. It had rained for a bit that afternoon and by the time we were venturing out, it was steamy in the extreme. It took about 15 minutes to get to the Lake Club and, of course, my quarry wasn't there. So, after some heavy negotiating with the local bureaucracy, I left a note for him suggesting we meet up on our second Calcutta leg. Then, brave and ignorant souls that we are, we thought we'd go into town (the Clubs are both in the southern end of the city) for dinner. After having a look at some descriptions of Calcutta restaurants, we decided on Mocambo, which was quite a famous jazz club in the 1960's. A journey that should have taken a 1/2 hour ended up being about an hour and a half - due to the insane traffic caused by last minute shoppers looking for Diwali (festival of light) presents. Combined with the fact that the rain had pushed the humidity levels up to, in sporting terms, a 110%, it was definitely an experience! It doesn't surprise me that the creator of Bikram's Yoga comes from Calcutta - because, one can only understand the context from which he decided to heat his yoga rooms up to 110 degrees Farhenheit when you sit in a Calcutta cab, post rain-storm, surrounded by diesel-spewing lorries, praying that the traffic will move so a mere breath of air will waft over your body. We were both tempted to assume the Lotus position in the back seat in the hope that some kind of Zen state would help us survive to the next green traffic light. At least after a Bikram's class you can have a shower!
Mocambo was the perfect example of the time-warp parts of Calcutta indulge in. Everything about it was retro '60's...from the seats to the lighting...to the menu (which I'm sure hadn't changed in either content or form since 1965). We both had fish dishes...and didn't finish either. I guess neither of us is used to eating food smothered in cream accompanied by vegetables that bore a striking similarity to things you'd find at Madame Toussaud's. Oh well...but the dessert (Baked - and flaming - Alaska) was fab! We wandered off down Park Street to this Starbucks style cafe (Oh Mel...we thought of you) called Barista. There, we sipped decaf coffee frappe (they whip in vanilla ice cream). The weird part was that they charged extra (half again as much) for decaf! They also had a guitar hanging on the wall and encouraged anyone to strum away. The crowd was quite a mix of locals and visitors (Swedes for the most part). By this point, we were looking forward to getting back to Tolly - but needed to find a bank machine. Much to my horror, neither of the two we found would give me any cash. Amber, special as she is, was happily dispensed funds. I was then pondering the rather attractive possibility of being a kept man for the rest of the trip.....(Amber shrieks...finally I'm wealthy!).
Back to the Oasis....and zzzzzz......
We had a good chuckle at our first taxi interaction. Our luggage was loaded into this rather creaky and bent Ambassador (picture a 1952 Morris Oxford - still being made now) and, who we thought was the driver, hopped into the cab and started driving off. We got about 30 feet and then he stopped....which naturally resulted in a "Hey...what's up?" from me. "Oh no sir....your driver is just coming" came the reply. Before Luggage Loader/Warmer Upper of the cab hopped out, he'd made sure he let us know that he was a poor man just trying to eke out a living loading luggage and warming up taxis. Sheesh....ahh well...he got a tip for his troubles. Our real driver finally arrived and we meandered off (I mean that literally) winding our way along the divided highway between sleeping dogs and peeing cows. A 1/2 hour drive (through a rather incredibly smoky atmosphere) and we turned into the oasis - the Tollygunge Club. Check-in was the usual entertainment with the older clerk and his younger assistant doing a credible imitation of a Saturday Night Live skit. Young clerk: "Sir, you are being a member here?" Old Clerk: "No, no...this sahib is having a reservation". Young clerk: "Very sorry sahib....please be filling in the registration book"....and so on and so on. Once the registration festivities had been completed, the usual army of helpers arrived to carry our luggage to the cottage. Rolling the bags was, apparently, far too modern a concept for this rather traditional establishment - so the bags were hoisted onto a variety of heads (not ours). The rooms were quite nice (entry area with a sofa and chair overlooking the golf course, huge air-conditioned bedroom with an attached bathroom). The door key was quite hilarious (picture Victorian-era). The room number was written on a long rectangular piece of metal - which you had to put into a slot inside the room to have the lights come on. Of course, nothing is that easy in India....every now and then the lights would mysteriously go out and we had to jiggle the key fob...and back on they came.
Maybe it's the tropics... but 5:30am...and there I was wide awake! Definitely never happens at home! So out of the room I sneaked and watched the early morning golfers go by in the morning mist.
Amber finally rolled out of bed at the slovenly hour of 6:30, peeked her nose out of the air-conditioning...and said "Oh....I forgot! (referring to the early morning 28 degrees outside). We meandered over to the "Shamiana" which is an outside restaurant overlooking the 18th hole where we prepared to while away a couple of hours sipping tea and reading the paper. I have to admit, we were very successful!
We had decided we were going to take it easy for the day and a half we would be in Calcutta before heading off to Darjeeling and, so much to the decadent delight of all concerned, we discovered that the Club had spa facilities! Well...there went the afternoon! We arrived to much tittering from the staff and soon Amber had them wrapped around her finger. Before you could say the words "hot oil treatment", Amber was signed up for one of those & shampoo and blow dry.
I found myself being pedicured by a guy who was in the midst of putting colour into his own hair and manicured by one very shy girl.
We certainly provided the entertainment for the afternoon....especially after they discovered Amber was a hair pro. Next thing you know there were deep and profound conversations going on about the intricacies of hair colouring, perusal of their surprisingly up-to-date L'Oreal colour lines and comparisons of customer preferences 12 time zones away. My little excesses had been completed while Amber still had to get her eyebrows threaded (it's a mystery to me!). So...off I went to explore parts of the club. Since I completely forgot to bring along the camera, we'll post descriptions and pics when we come back after the Darjeeling jaunt.
I had hoped to go and meet up with the Secretary of the Lake Club (which was the rowing club my Grandfather had belonged to - and where I have some very fond childhood memories). Of course, actually connecting with a telephone number over a Calcutta landline is a task best seen in the light of buying lottery tickets. So...after numerous attempts resulting in a variety of beeping noises, wrong numbers and cryptic telephone company messages ("Thees number does noot exeest"), I gave up and decided to simply show up. So out we ventured from the Oasis into the teeming streets....
That's not what I call a "Streetcar Named Desire"!....that pith helmet, on the other hand...??? That taxi (an Ambassador) is also pretty indicative of the average. It had rained for a bit that afternoon and by the time we were venturing out, it was steamy in the extreme. It took about 15 minutes to get to the Lake Club and, of course, my quarry wasn't there. So, after some heavy negotiating with the local bureaucracy, I left a note for him suggesting we meet up on our second Calcutta leg. Then, brave and ignorant souls that we are, we thought we'd go into town (the Clubs are both in the southern end of the city) for dinner. After having a look at some descriptions of Calcutta restaurants, we decided on Mocambo, which was quite a famous jazz club in the 1960's. A journey that should have taken a 1/2 hour ended up being about an hour and a half - due to the insane traffic caused by last minute shoppers looking for Diwali (festival of light) presents. Combined with the fact that the rain had pushed the humidity levels up to, in sporting terms, a 110%, it was definitely an experience! It doesn't surprise me that the creator of Bikram's Yoga comes from Calcutta - because, one can only understand the context from which he decided to heat his yoga rooms up to 110 degrees Farhenheit when you sit in a Calcutta cab, post rain-storm, surrounded by diesel-spewing lorries, praying that the traffic will move so a mere breath of air will waft over your body. We were both tempted to assume the Lotus position in the back seat in the hope that some kind of Zen state would help us survive to the next green traffic light. At least after a Bikram's class you can have a shower!
Mocambo was the perfect example of the time-warp parts of Calcutta indulge in. Everything about it was retro '60's...from the seats to the lighting...to the menu (which I'm sure hadn't changed in either content or form since 1965). We both had fish dishes...and didn't finish either. I guess neither of us is used to eating food smothered in cream accompanied by vegetables that bore a striking similarity to things you'd find at Madame Toussaud's. Oh well...but the dessert (Baked - and flaming - Alaska) was fab! We wandered off down Park Street to this Starbucks style cafe (Oh Mel...we thought of you) called Barista. There, we sipped decaf coffee frappe (they whip in vanilla ice cream). The weird part was that they charged extra (half again as much) for decaf! They also had a guitar hanging on the wall and encouraged anyone to strum away. The crowd was quite a mix of locals and visitors (Swedes for the most part). By this point, we were looking forward to getting back to Tolly - but needed to find a bank machine. Much to my horror, neither of the two we found would give me any cash. Amber, special as she is, was happily dispensed funds. I was then pondering the rather attractive possibility of being a kept man for the rest of the trip.....(Amber shrieks...finally I'm wealthy!).
Back to the Oasis....and zzzzzz......
Posted at 06:30 AM Read More
Tue - October 21, 2003
Breakfast for a buck....Singapore in a Junk
Day 2 in Singapore - Kenny G and Milo in the same
day!
5:15am....loud laughter commenced at the lack of
sleeping competence! Once the horrible truth had sunk in, the only sane response
was to accept and move on. There appeared to be a couple of hours to go before
we had any hope of breakfast so we decided that a '70's revival was called
for....out came the iPod and speakers with Carole King and, yes...the Bay City
Rollers.
Being diligent touristy types, we decided take a touristy tour. The only one that fit into our need to arrive back at the hotel in time to be picked up by the airport shuttle was a tour on the Imperial Cheng-Ho Junk around the Singapore harbour. But first...we'd noticed a "hypermart" around the corner from the hotel - and lo and behold...breakfast for $1 (toast, eggs & tea). The only minor hiccup was that we didn't realize the tea had been pre-sugared - so we decided to add some. Sadly, we didn't know that Singaporean salt likes to masquerade as sugar so it was quite the sweet and savory experience. Undeterred, we finished up the tea and made for counter once again because we'd discovered that they had canned versions of Milo and Horlicks (yeah, yeah...we know) - not to mention packaged versions of Ribena! By now the Chinese women behind the counter were thinking we were completely bonkers (between us taking pictures of the $1 breakfast sign and ogling the multitude of canned drinks). We decided on a couple of steaming cups of Horlicks - and for those who have never experienced that, let me tell you....all suddenly becomes right with the world.
Back at the hotel, we grabbed a cab to Clifford Pier where we booked our "Junk"et. After a bit of a drive in a shuttle bus, we arrived at the Singapore Cruise Centre where Amber was fascinated by a Mr. Soybean place (especially the soy crumpets). The Junk arrived in all its resplendent glory, intricate carvings all over the place. We were loaded on and started off on our stately way....and much to our collective horror....were "entertained" by the plaintive wailings of KennyG massacring tried and true elevator favourites. Note the pained expression...
Suffice to say, it was a pleasant two hours cruising about (Kenny excepted) but, aside from the fact I'm actually doing just that, nothing to write home about.
Post Junk, we made for the shopping heaven of the previous day to pick up my suit and shirts. This resulted in a tearful goodbye from Boss George - and, of course, a suggestion that it was not too late to order three more suits! Our airport pickup was only a couple of hours away and we had yet to find an internet cafe to let all those people that really, really care about us know that we were still alive and shopping. The internet cafe search was absurdly unsuccessful but...we did manage to pick up knock-off Jean-Paul Gaultier wallets - so all was not lost. We couldn't leave Singapore without one more ABSURDLY cheap but INCREDIBLE meal at the Blue Diamond. So, in we trudged (much to the delight of the manager) and shoveled in mouthfuls of biriyani and chai. If only the restaurants in Vancouver's Little India could make chai like this (I think they must use condensed milk)...and a chai latte is not even on the same planet. Note that these Blue Diamond types are not pushovers - they completely ignored our demand that they live up to their promise to "deliver anywhere" - so Vancouver loses out.
Back to the hotel to pick up our luggage.....
...we were whisked off to the airport and piled onto the Singapore Airlines flight to Calcutta - me sitting next to a rather annoying and chubby Bengali dude. Oh well...good training for the next few days. Calcutta craziness to follow shortly.....
Being diligent touristy types, we decided take a touristy tour. The only one that fit into our need to arrive back at the hotel in time to be picked up by the airport shuttle was a tour on the Imperial Cheng-Ho Junk around the Singapore harbour. But first...we'd noticed a "hypermart" around the corner from the hotel - and lo and behold...breakfast for $1 (toast, eggs & tea). The only minor hiccup was that we didn't realize the tea had been pre-sugared - so we decided to add some. Sadly, we didn't know that Singaporean salt likes to masquerade as sugar so it was quite the sweet and savory experience. Undeterred, we finished up the tea and made for counter once again because we'd discovered that they had canned versions of Milo and Horlicks (yeah, yeah...we know) - not to mention packaged versions of Ribena! By now the Chinese women behind the counter were thinking we were completely bonkers (between us taking pictures of the $1 breakfast sign and ogling the multitude of canned drinks). We decided on a couple of steaming cups of Horlicks - and for those who have never experienced that, let me tell you....all suddenly becomes right with the world.
Back at the hotel, we grabbed a cab to Clifford Pier where we booked our "Junk"et. After a bit of a drive in a shuttle bus, we arrived at the Singapore Cruise Centre where Amber was fascinated by a Mr. Soybean place (especially the soy crumpets). The Junk arrived in all its resplendent glory, intricate carvings all over the place. We were loaded on and started off on our stately way....and much to our collective horror....were "entertained" by the plaintive wailings of KennyG massacring tried and true elevator favourites. Note the pained expression...
Suffice to say, it was a pleasant two hours cruising about (Kenny excepted) but, aside from the fact I'm actually doing just that, nothing to write home about.
Post Junk, we made for the shopping heaven of the previous day to pick up my suit and shirts. This resulted in a tearful goodbye from Boss George - and, of course, a suggestion that it was not too late to order three more suits! Our airport pickup was only a couple of hours away and we had yet to find an internet cafe to let all those people that really, really care about us know that we were still alive and shopping. The internet cafe search was absurdly unsuccessful but...we did manage to pick up knock-off Jean-Paul Gaultier wallets - so all was not lost. We couldn't leave Singapore without one more ABSURDLY cheap but INCREDIBLE meal at the Blue Diamond. So, in we trudged (much to the delight of the manager) and shoveled in mouthfuls of biriyani and chai. If only the restaurants in Vancouver's Little India could make chai like this (I think they must use condensed milk)...and a chai latte is not even on the same planet. Note that these Blue Diamond types are not pushovers - they completely ignored our demand that they live up to their promise to "deliver anywhere" - so Vancouver loses out.
Back to the hotel to pick up our luggage.....
...we were whisked off to the airport and piled onto the Singapore Airlines flight to Calcutta - me sitting next to a rather annoying and chubby Bengali dude. Oh well...good training for the next few days. Calcutta craziness to follow shortly.....
Posted at 08:59 AM Read More
Mon - October 20, 2003
Oh the lag!
Day 1 in Singapore...Summertime...and the shopping
is easy...
We finally rolled up to the hotel at about 2:30 am
MONDAY morning (note that we left Vancouver on Saturday at 3pm). For those not
wanting to fire up the computer and embark on complicated logarithmic
calculations, this means it was around mid-morning on Sunday, Vancouver time.
Being mere beginners on this Asian sojourn, Amber and I regularly got shuffled
to the backs of lines (waiting for luggage, boarding the shuttle bus...and
especially trying to check into the hotel with 30 other people). We'd probably
have been in bed 1/2 an hour earlier if we weren't so gol-darned polite (note:
that problem has now been
eliminated).
We woke from a Gravol-induced slumber around 9 the next morning feeling somewhat discombobulated, but ready to hunt down a likely breakfast spot. We ended up at this great place called Chijmes (yeah, yeah...that's how they spell it). It used to be an old monastery/school until the cassocked ones decided to move on. The City decided to convert the site into a great shopping and eating area - while retaining the feel of the old place.
After doing some wandering around, our sugar levels hit rock bottom - and the first place to present itself was this funky Spanish place with a patio. So...Coronas for breakfast (with mushroomy things and a Spanish Omelette) isn't so bad!
We wolfed down some Spanish grits chased with Coronas (now that's breakfast). Freshly fortified, and squinting into the blazing sunlight, I realized that leaving sunglasses in rainy Vancouver was not very bright! So...heavy negotiations and fashion consulting by Amber...soon resulted in a pair of Fila's decorating my face for the rest of the day. Exhausted & drained by the heavy negotiations, we decided that more food was required immediately. Being diligent tourists, we thought that going from the fancy extreme of Cjimes to the insane chaos of Little India would be good for our gastronomic souls. En route, Amber somehow managed to get a roadside Indian woman from Gujarat to hand over wooden henna stamps (along with a strangely smelling block of henna) for the princely sum of $12. Henna parties in Vancouver will never be so easy! Then...purely by accident...and while leaping over rotting fruit on the sidewalk, we discovered the hidden gem of Singapore....the one, the only...Blue Diamond Indian Restaurant - without question the most fabulous, outrageous, Indian food EVER (can't say the same about the decor)! MMMM....dosas, biriyani...and awesome chai! We'd have taken pictures...but then they'd have had to kill us for potentially exposing the secret recipes!
Not content to spend all the rest of the day eating, we decided that I needed a new suit! I mean, really, who doesn't??? So, being the diligent researchers that we are, we picked a random ad for a tailor out of our Singapore map...and that's how a great relationship with "Boss George" was born! So....out came the catalogue...a swanky Zegna suit was chosen (me hoping that it would look as good on me as that blonde dude in the picture)...a black merino wool was drooled over...and the negotiations began! George suggesting that I would need 4 suits....me suggesting that I really didn't need a suit at all. In the end, 1 suit and two shirts ("of the very finest cottons, boss...") were ordered for the princely sum of Cdn$380....ready by 3pm the next day! Here was the happy fitting by Boss's assistant:
Meanwhile...after providing the appropriate fashion consulting to me....Amber found the Holy Grail! In her own words: After saving all of us from navy suits with pleated pants (Boss's recommendation), I ventured out into the small and quirky mall that Boss resided in. There...near the entrance...lay "Pretty in Tokyo" where, for $5 you could be a supermodel! Filled with clucking teenage girls flitting in and out of plasticized photo booths, I realized if I didn't leave quickly, I'd have spent all my cash in this one crazy place - albeit with hundreds of fabulous pictures of myself. So....I only did three, one of which is below....oh yeah, Mark decided to to get over his fear of swimming by diving in as well.
With our freshly minted supermodel shots stored securely in Amber's purse, we ventured out into blazing, humid, debilitating heat - but, since this was Singapore's famous Orchard Road (Robson would constitute 1% of the space & shopping potential)....we dug deep and bore it! OK...not for long...we zipped into (to Amber's indescribable delight - oh... if Scott & Vannie could see her now!) Valentino...followed by Jean-Paul Gaultier...followed by Versace...followed by Ferragamo....followed by Givenchy...followed by Chanel...followed by Gucci...followed by Prada....followed by Louis Vuitton...followed by Dunhill....followed by Cartier....and so on and so on and so on.... The only saving grace was that Amber does NOT have a credit card!
Having worked up a window-shopping froth (& only buying a guava and mango juice each!), the incredible, outstanding, unbelievable Pepper Crab loomed in our future (along with a very cold tall beer). The one thing I told Amber we had to do in Singapore was go to the Newton Hawkers Market to have this dish - it is amazing! Did it live up to the hype?
uhh....yeah!!!
It was time for a nightcap at the festive Clarke Quay. Singapore has a couple of these strips along the river (the other being Boat Quay) where there are rows of restaurants and hawkers' stands serving everything under the sun. It certainly caters to the touristy crowd (egad...there was even a Hooters - but, in this end of the world, it was catering mainly to Aussie Rugby World Cup fans) and the prices reflect that. In spite of that, it's a really cool place to hang out and watch the world go by.
Amazingly enough, we had stayed up until10pm...but it was now time to head back to the hotel. On that note, Singapore has by far the friendliest and helpful cabbies either of us has ever seen. Bed....zzzzzzzz....
We woke from a Gravol-induced slumber around 9 the next morning feeling somewhat discombobulated, but ready to hunt down a likely breakfast spot. We ended up at this great place called Chijmes (yeah, yeah...that's how they spell it). It used to be an old monastery/school until the cassocked ones decided to move on. The City decided to convert the site into a great shopping and eating area - while retaining the feel of the old place.
After doing some wandering around, our sugar levels hit rock bottom - and the first place to present itself was this funky Spanish place with a patio. So...Coronas for breakfast (with mushroomy things and a Spanish Omelette) isn't so bad!
We wolfed down some Spanish grits chased with Coronas (now that's breakfast). Freshly fortified, and squinting into the blazing sunlight, I realized that leaving sunglasses in rainy Vancouver was not very bright! So...heavy negotiations and fashion consulting by Amber...soon resulted in a pair of Fila's decorating my face for the rest of the day. Exhausted & drained by the heavy negotiations, we decided that more food was required immediately. Being diligent tourists, we thought that going from the fancy extreme of Cjimes to the insane chaos of Little India would be good for our gastronomic souls. En route, Amber somehow managed to get a roadside Indian woman from Gujarat to hand over wooden henna stamps (along with a strangely smelling block of henna) for the princely sum of $12. Henna parties in Vancouver will never be so easy! Then...purely by accident...and while leaping over rotting fruit on the sidewalk, we discovered the hidden gem of Singapore....the one, the only...Blue Diamond Indian Restaurant - without question the most fabulous, outrageous, Indian food EVER (can't say the same about the decor)! MMMM....dosas, biriyani...and awesome chai! We'd have taken pictures...but then they'd have had to kill us for potentially exposing the secret recipes!
Not content to spend all the rest of the day eating, we decided that I needed a new suit! I mean, really, who doesn't??? So, being the diligent researchers that we are, we picked a random ad for a tailor out of our Singapore map...and that's how a great relationship with "Boss George" was born! So....out came the catalogue...a swanky Zegna suit was chosen (me hoping that it would look as good on me as that blonde dude in the picture)...a black merino wool was drooled over...and the negotiations began! George suggesting that I would need 4 suits....me suggesting that I really didn't need a suit at all. In the end, 1 suit and two shirts ("of the very finest cottons, boss...") were ordered for the princely sum of Cdn$380....ready by 3pm the next day! Here was the happy fitting by Boss's assistant:
Meanwhile...after providing the appropriate fashion consulting to me....Amber found the Holy Grail! In her own words: After saving all of us from navy suits with pleated pants (Boss's recommendation), I ventured out into the small and quirky mall that Boss resided in. There...near the entrance...lay "Pretty in Tokyo" where, for $5 you could be a supermodel! Filled with clucking teenage girls flitting in and out of plasticized photo booths, I realized if I didn't leave quickly, I'd have spent all my cash in this one crazy place - albeit with hundreds of fabulous pictures of myself. So....I only did three, one of which is below....oh yeah, Mark decided to to get over his fear of swimming by diving in as well.
With our freshly minted supermodel shots stored securely in Amber's purse, we ventured out into blazing, humid, debilitating heat - but, since this was Singapore's famous Orchard Road (Robson would constitute 1% of the space & shopping potential)....we dug deep and bore it! OK...not for long...we zipped into (to Amber's indescribable delight - oh... if Scott & Vannie could see her now!) Valentino...followed by Jean-Paul Gaultier...followed by Versace...followed by Ferragamo....followed by Givenchy...followed by Chanel...followed by Gucci...followed by Prada....followed by Louis Vuitton...followed by Dunhill....followed by Cartier....and so on and so on and so on.... The only saving grace was that Amber does NOT have a credit card!
Having worked up a window-shopping froth (& only buying a guava and mango juice each!), the incredible, outstanding, unbelievable Pepper Crab loomed in our future (along with a very cold tall beer). The one thing I told Amber we had to do in Singapore was go to the Newton Hawkers Market to have this dish - it is amazing! Did it live up to the hype?
uhh....yeah!!!
It was time for a nightcap at the festive Clarke Quay. Singapore has a couple of these strips along the river (the other being Boat Quay) where there are rows of restaurants and hawkers' stands serving everything under the sun. It certainly caters to the touristy crowd (egad...there was even a Hooters - but, in this end of the world, it was catering mainly to Aussie Rugby World Cup fans) and the prices reflect that. In spite of that, it's a really cool place to hang out and watch the world go by.
Amazingly enough, we had stayed up until10pm...but it was now time to head back to the hotel. On that note, Singapore has by far the friendliest and helpful cabbies either of us has ever seen. Bed....zzzzzzzz....
Posted at 10:15 AM Read More
One and a half weeks to go....!
Two and a half weeks to go.....Yahoo!
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Published On: Dec 05, 2003 09:24 PM
Published On: Dec 05, 2003 09:24 PM