Tioman … then and now, untouched as ever!

Canoes stacked by a beach cabana, Paya beach

The full moon is silhouetted against the sea, smothering the waves with silver reflections. Sitting on a dune, we watch the continuous ebb and flow, each with our own thoughts. For me, the sea has always been a confidant, a friend absorbing all it is told and never revealing those secrets; always giving the best advice — its meaningful noises can be interpreted any way you choose... The fresh wind fills the senses with the power and mood of the sea; everything is transformed by its touch; even Comeback (the dog) gazes, his odd little nose aloft, at the silver ribbons unrolling before him several times a minute.
-Che Guevara, Motorcycle Diaries

This is why the Motorcycle Diaries is amazing. It’s not the greatest piece of writing or doesn’t have lofty observations. But it has layers… every so often, you will re-discover a passage, a part of the journey that will make you think, ‘Dang! That is exactly how I felt when I was at so-and-so, and when that happened’. This book could have been anyone’s journey … it could have been your journey!

I was re-reading the Motorcycle Diaries around the same time that I had gone to Tioman for the first time, couple of years back and I recall thinking how aptly the above words fitted the few days spent idling on this island. There is something to be said about just watching the endless ocean, and letting the motion of the waves take over you. Every single activity seems to take on an added depth when watching the sea – the coffee you sip, the book you are reading.   The sea here is calm and beautiful and it is easy to lose yourself in the beautiful interplay of blue and turquoise even as the day's heat seduces you into a lazy lull. And that first splash of cold when you dive in. And after all this, there are still the nights…

When I returned to Tioman, this time to Tekek beach, I was a tad worried it wouldn’t live up to my memories. But I was overjoyed and even surprised to find it just the way it used to be – rustic and under-developed, even after 2 years. My last trip had been on a long weekend, and we were scrambling to get the accommodation and travel sorted out and it seemed as if every single “resort” was booked out. Was this the ‘untouched’ island people spoke off? I expected to see crowded beaches and half of Singapore camping there. But when we arrived at Paya beach, it was a heady relief to see we had the beach more or less to ourselves.

Once past the not-so-pretty Tekek ferry terminal, the island opens up with the thick tropical forest rising in front – tall, green and dense, and almost reaching the skies. The road branches into 2, following the curve of the sea. Along the way are some wooden long houses, randomly dotting the roads, some have small grocery stores or restaurants, the odd souvenir shops, a garage… and there is that odd broken truck by the side. In the distance, there is smoke from some cooking fires. The road itself curves into the forest, which takes you through the heart of the jungle to Juara, the beach on the other side. The so-called resorts are in fact collection of wooden long houses, quite basic in the luxury they afford. Life takes on a slow and unhurried pace. So did our routine. 

I do wonder if I will tire of beaches, and it feels like I will after every trip. But within days of returning to regular life, all I long for is the calm of the seas.

Some FAQ:
Getting to Tioman is still a bitch (sorry, but that is what it is). But may be that is what keeps it rustic too. We tried a taxi (highly recommend it) for $150-200 one way from Singapore to Mersing. The ferry from Mersing to Tioman, however, still demands patience and god’s grace. Also see this link for 5 ways to get from Singapore to Mersing.

Choose a good beach too. Personally, I found Salang beach had too many chalets lined up one after the other. Tekek, is the main town on the island and the airport is also here. But this beach still felt more spacious. From Tekek, one can get to ABC beach and also Juara quite easily.

Try the Sunset cafe in ABC for some divine pizza's. The walk from Tekek to ABC can be quite nice too.

Also, the jungle walk to Juara is interesting. It takes around 2 hours, and it is recommended to hike in decent shows (i.e. not flip flops).

S at work, building a cabana by the beach...

Ayer Batang beach at night

When inspiration turns into a trip... lost in Palawan's islands

5 days of exploring deep blue seas, remote islands with no names, white sandy beaches lined with swaying coconut trees and many sunsets. From Coron to El Nido, Palawan.

It was one of the busiest, intense times at work – I can’t remember when exactly – and I was taking a moment to decompress, flipping through NY Times when I read about vacationing on a bunka (boats), off the islands of Philippines. The author wrote – “We were in the middle of nowhere, paradise-style: a sea of high-definition azure stretching to the horizon, dotted only by distant uninhabited islands. After a few days of sailing, life had become a hazy routine: eat, snorkel, chill out. Repeat. We were in the middle of nowhere, paradise-style: a sea of high-definition azure stretching to the horizon, dotted only by distant uninhabited islands. After a few days of sailing, life had become a hazy routine: eat, snorkel, chill out. Repeat.” And I remember thinking that this is how one ought to explore islands. This is exactly how I wanted to explore islands! And that is how the trip to the Philippines came about… I considered different destinations and kept discarding options, I recalled this article, which had seemed like a dream then and thought, why not?

Unlike the popular variety of 1-day island hopping trip that were offered by tour operators in Palawan, TaoPhilippines offers a 5 day expedition starting from El Nido or Coron. My introduction to Tao itself was there website, which is extremely forthright in stating that ‘This is an expedition… we don’t promise that all will go well. And if you aren’t prepared for this or for camping and roughing-it-out, this is not your thing’. Which was exactly my kind of thing. Tao itself was started when 2 friends ran out of money exploring the islands of Philippines, so they decided to take other travelers on their journey’s to make money.

Our trip started at Coron (in the North of Palawan) and over 5 days we sailed towards El Nido (a beach in the South of Palawan). We were 22 of us along with around 10 from the crew. I had read it would be 5 or 6 people on board, and in my mind this number was a big crowd. But it turned out to be perfect – in many of the islands, there were almost none others but us. There was no set itinerary and each day we would set sail, with the expedition leader deciding the route and destination for the day. Through the day we would stop at different spots to snorkel or enjoy a beach or visit a small village. At nights, we docked at an island and we stayed in open huts or cabins. Sometimes the islands had big settlements; sometimes it was an island that was 15 minutes wide, walking. Dinners were simple and were around a big table where we came together and kicked back over beers.

At one island stop, the boys-on-board played basketball with the local kids. At another, one of the village houses had an age-old karaoke plugged into a TV, and we whiled away the night singing all from Bryan Adams to Elton John to Billy Joel. On one of evenings, as I was enjoying the sunset, I was surrounded by the local kids, and unlike the usual ones who tend to be shy of strangers, demanded I take photos of them. On the last day, the boats rudder broke and we had to sail straight through the day while the crew was manually guiding the boat.

I imagined I would have loads of time on my hand during the trip to idle away. Idle away, I did, but time flew too quickly and looking back those 5 days have meshed together to one long image of the sun, sea, starry nights and happy faces. It was a trip like no other for me!

Read the NYTimes article here. For more details of the trip, go to TaoPhilippines. Don't forget to check their FAQ page which has quite a lot of details about getting to Coron/El Nido in Palawan.

PS: Now that I do go back to article to link it here (funnily enough, I hadn't read through it for my planning), it sounds very very similar to my experience, including the karaoke!

Easy, breezy...?

It was easy…  is the one thing that keeps coming back to my mind, thinking of my first solo trip.  It was like a breeze, with days flowing one after the other. And just like that, it was over! I did prepare myself for a lot of ‘me-time’, but through the trip I ended up meeting people who found their way to me.

The highlight of course was the island exploration trip in Palawan - when I was reporting in for the trip, the lady at the counter asked if I was alone and gave me a curious look. I asked if there were other solo travelers, and she scrambled through all her papers for the longest time and said, ‘don’t worry, there is M also’. 2 out of 22 - you do the math! But from the moment I walked into the pre-briefing room and squeezed in between R and W, and one person took a dig at my vegetarianism, I knew it was going to be ok. And it turned out to be fabulous – over the next 5 days, I’d like to think we all discovered a little bit about each other, swapping travel and life stories, had some in-depth discussions on love, life and such matters with a few, and sang karaoke like no one was listening (well, no one was listening in fact. We were in a remote island with a handful of houses and using an age old TV-karaoke set up at one of the villager’s homes). It was the best and has made me have a re-think that ‘group’ trips, which I am usually not a fan of, may not be bad after all.

On the other hand, there weren’t major earth-shattering revelations or self-discovery moments.  But as always, I love hearing other people’s stories and their views on life and what they want out of it.  And of course, fellow travelers want to know more about India, and there were good many debates on the country and for myself, if I was / should be doing more.  All this leading to a many introspective moments.

I probably packed in a lot less in the itinerary than I would have if I traveled with someone I think. I gave myself more time so I could figure things out as I cruised along, and sometimes that means delays and change of plans too. (All of which, could be entirely avoided if the trip was fully pre-planned, but where is the fun in that?). And sometimes, I did get a bit lazy too… But hey, the feeling that there is nothing that is a ‘must-do’ is liberating.

All in all, I do realize, it may not always be this easy, but I couldn’t have asked for a better start.

PS: I did post from time to time on FB some of my reflections, so some speak-easy style posts on their way!

PS2: And yes,  Palawan definitely has some crazy beautiful beaches!!! some photo highlights here...

The many islands we passed over the course of 5 days, Palawan

One of the beaches we stopped at...

Divers caught in action

Bohol's Chocolate hills...

The church at Loboc, which was my base in the island of Bohol

Simple evenings

can be such a pleasure, with just a brilliant breeze, beautiful lights lighting up the night landscape. Kite flying festival at the Marina Bay boardwalk... families come to try their hand at kite flying, couples taking a lazy stroll, friends hanging out... hardly too many kites, but the mood was light, conversation good...

At the board walk

Kites in the air

Battling the breeze

Falling in love...all over again...

The sun was burning down in all its mid-day August glory ... one of those hot scorching days when the heat lies about like a thick cloak, like something you can feel, and if you move your finger in a slicing motion, you can feel the air molecules actually rearrange themselves... only it was an air-conditioned car, but in your head, you could still feel the hear. The mood was restive...it was a long day and an even longer journey, beginning the mid-night before... a sleepless train ride and a long car journey there after... the silence was heavy, weighed down by sulks and the aftertaste of a tiff... the industrial highways of Italy overshadowing the distant hills, raising doubts and offering no respite.

And all it took was a single breathtaking view!

It was like falling in love all over again...

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
............

Our own farmhouse apartment for a few days

The view from the window

Our backyard...

Stop and Stare: Atop Shanti Stupa

And then there are those places – really, moments – where you want to just be. You don’t go seeking, you can’t plan for them, but they do happen, creeping upon you unaware. Across the sidewalk as you watch life passing by. Or, in the beach, watching the waves. Moments where you lose a sense of time. You shrug your shoulders and sigh, just content to be right there. With no place else to be.

It was a tiring walk up to the Shanti Stupa. Once on top, we played the fool, clicking photos. There were people sitting around the terrace - catching up with friends, exchanging travel tips, and some just observing. We soon joined the group and sank into our own "silent" zones. Interrupted only by an odd comment here and there. Somewhere in between, I blanked out. Not sure if it was sleep, but the next thing I was conscious of was the cold creeping up. We then made our move!

Relaxing at Shanti Stupa

In the heart of Bohemia

I the last couple of weeks, every time I have a breather at work, I find my mind wandering to my past vacations, and most often than not the couple of days we spent in Cesky Krumlov. I still remember this one moment – R and I were sitting under a bush after an excruciating stretch of uphill cycling, which we mostly walked, catching our breathe. We could feel the heat beating down steadily, radiating in the air, lulling the moment into silence, creating a buzz in our heads –beads of sweat rolling down our faces and a bottle of water, our respite. Our cycles carelessly lay on the ground. In front of us were slopes of green grass, undulating hills, houses here and there and distant forests forming the horizon.

And then it hit us – we are actually sitting in a random spot – a place we may not been able to spot on the map later, between 2 no-name villages in the heart of Czech Republic. We are actually there- no; we are actually here in Czech Republic. In Boehmia. And yes, Bohemia is a real place. It was real, yet surreal.

Gearing for the day

Our lunch stop on our cycling trail and an impromptu dip in the lake!

Ruins of Divci Kamen - an abandoned castle

The landscape

On the Vlatava - from Cesky to Zlata Koruna

The horizon, dry cracked earth and us - Rann of Kutch

We stared into the vast expanse of land in front of our eyes. Dry, cracked - cracked as if an earthquake tremor had left its marks behind, spreading out as far as we could see, meeting the blue and slightly pink skies at the very end. The landscape at the start was broken by a few shrubs here and there, and then by the salt pans. At this point, there was nothing else but us, the faint outline of a faraway hillock and the horizon in front of us. The sun had beaten down upon us strongly through the day, and the air was laden with the dust from the earth. This was Rann of Kutch.

The Rann of Kutch - trying to capture the vastness of it!

Calling it beautiful wouldn’t be right. The Rann doesn’t match the stark and harsh beauty of the deserts of Ladakh or the soft undulating curves that one imagines a picture perfect desert. But there was something about being in this dry, near barren, expansive, and literally ‘no-man’ land.

A friend reminded me of the story, 'Love Across the Salt Desert'. How could i have forgotten the love story set in the heart of this place. The author describes it beautifully... The monsoons had, so to speak, forgotten to land. The Rann lay like a paralysed monster, its back covered with scab and scar-tissue and dried blister-skin. The earth had cracked and it looked as if chunks of it had been baked in a kiln and then embedded in the soil-crust. Then one day the clouds rolled in like wineskins and the lightning crackled and the wineskins burst. Though two years have passed since the drought ended, everyone remembers that it first rained on the day when Fatimah entered the village. This is how she came...

The Rann in perspective

During monsoons, the Rann of Kutch is flooded with water, being at a very low-height to the sea. The Rann becomes accessible only in the drier seasons, and even then may be not entirely. The jeeps that venture inside could easily get stuck, as the dry top level hides beneath it soft and mushy clayey soil layers. There are no well defined roads or trails. Yes, there were jeep tracks from visits before us, but how our driver found his way through and how the other locals find their way to the salt pans was beyond our grasp. The desert is also broken by several salt pans were locals make salt from the ground. Coming back after watching the sunset, I kept asking our driver if he could find his way back.

Getting directions from a local chakkada

The quintessential dirt driving jeef safari picture

Our visit was actually to the part of the desert known as the lesser Rann, which lays a little interior to the area called as the Rann. The Lesser Rann is home to the ‘Wild Ass’ also called Khar (ye ye, I see you laughing, and btw did you know that Jack Ass is also a variety?), the Nilgai Antelope and Chinkara deers. On our safari on the first evening we saw glorious herd of both the wild ass and Nilgai. We didn’t realize how nice our sightings were until the next day, when for quite a long time we saw only loners or pairs. The Rann is also famous for migrating flamingos, visitors from Siberia.

A herd of Nilgai antelopes

A herd of Wild Ass

Cranes taking flight

Rains...

The monsoons are here again. Or almost. As I was walking down from my office, I stopped at this spot – almost like a vantage point – where I always like to take in the view of the rest of Hiranandani. I always liked this view, giving me a feel of standing on the outside and looking inside. With the rains, the view was all the more beautiful – the fogginess from the light drizzle almost adding a mystical air to the view. I know- monsoons in Mumbai are not to be looked forward to. But before the torrential downpours, the clothes that wont dry, the room that is flooded, the walls that are damp, the days where you get soaked, but before all that, that is inevitable begins, before the daily wars that we would eventually have to wage, can I just say...

...I love the smell of the damp earth signalling the imminent monsoons (even though there is a lack of damp earth in some places, the rains still seems to be able evoke their earthy smell for concrete!), love the moist breeze which breaks the monotonies of the days, and love the feeling of change around the corner (– who knows what it may bring). The rains have been teasing us for the last couple of weeks – will it or will it not today. But until they do, it’s good to take in the moment. ‘Cos, this too shall pass.

Caught by the rain in the not so distant past, Singapore

Through Coffee and Chaos, We Made History

In a matter of days, my world has been turned 360 degrees several times around and if possible upside down as well. It would be unreal and unnatural and just, well, unreal for me to carry on with my Ladakh trip accounts, without making a note of these events – which have left their mark on not just my life but I would think world financial history as well. Hell, for all you know, I could be a part of a HBR case study – alright, may be the part that gets lost between the lines, but definitely a part. So, in the duty of dutifully recording the most important events in my life, here I go.

You may be aware (honestly, I wouldn't blame you if you weren't), we just witnessed what could be THE financial crisis of "our time". Yes, I hear people are talking about this debacle in the same breath as 9/11. (:) (I know I joke, but it is not every day that you are a part of something this big, even if it is big in a screwed up kind of way!) And I have been a spectator, but a spectator from the inside simply from the virtue of being employed in one of these firms. The recent demise of my firm however has of course drawn me from the audience right into the battle field.

It all started two weeks ago when we saw our public standing see a rapid descent in a matter of days. While the gods convened, we, the lesser mortals remained glued to our screens tracking the minutest flickers in the pulse of our survival, and the craziest of speculations, all the while wondering, and actually joking about our future. Time was filled with rounds of coffees, meetings and discussions. By Friday, we knew. From “business as usual”, we had progressed on to “business no more”. I find myself, once again, seeking refuge under the word “unreal” to describe the mood, but unreal it was.

September 15th, Monday. That morning brought a whole dose of reality. Hearing “I am sorry” from my boss was not the best wake up call I have had in years. We were left to the only other choice available – to break ourselves into parts and put each up for sale. The days that followed have been the most surreal of all – clearing and saving the remnants of our past. Coffee and discussions continuing ....

Just as each passing day has brought new developments, it has also brought about a change in our attitude and standing. We have been disappointed by what we believed in. For all the one firm philosophy that was brandished, it was the each man for his own attitude that survived. The bright spots have been the support and concern extended by the people we work with and friends.

As for me, I still wait. Out of pure inertia and nothing more. (And of course the absence of enticing job offers at the moment - and not for the lack of trying!) This definitely puts a spoke into my 2-year plan (or rather at least 2-year plan). However, all is not over - not yet. And of course, I continue to worry that I have still not had the opportunity to brandish my photos from Ladakh...

Last Day, Lasting Thoughts at Leh

(As captured on 30th August, our last day at Leh)

Today is our last day in Ladakh and Leh. We are sitting at Penguin – a café we seemed to have frequented the most. There is lovely music playing in the background – what seems like South Indian classical fusion, though the café manager claims it to be Nepali. Quite a change from the Buddha beats which seemed to be their favorite.

Yesterday, on the way back from Pangong Tso, I was panicking. Pangong was our last trip in Ladakh, and right towards the end as we were returning back Leh, I was driven by this sudden urge to photo-shoot like a mad woman. Had I clicked every single moment, recorded every memory? My friend, M, sitting opposite to me refuses to even listen to my already beginning ‘post vacation’ cribs. She doesn’t want to talk or even think about the Monday morning that’s up ahead of us, not until she absolutely has to.

I have heard of people saying that their vacation was a total break from reality – and this one was truly like that. Maybe it was the length of the trip – fifteen days seems to have been enough for us to completely break from all things familiar. Or maybe it was fifteen days with nearly no cell connection, no TV, no news (for some of reason, none of us even really thought of picking up the paper even while in Leh), barely any connection to the world we left behind except for quick calls home assuring family that we were indeed alive. Or maybe it was simply Ladakh - long hours spent hiking, or driving and just soaking in the beauty of these mighty ranges, the nights spent lost in one of the best night skies we have ever seen.

The iPhone 3G has been launched in India, Bihar has seen a flood, J&K is worse off, Salman and Shah Rukh seemed to have made up, and Air Deccan is no longer Air Deccan. A lot has happened.

The hope for today is to laze around at Leh Café. Maybe chew on a book. And maybe search for stoles and jewelry to break the monotony of lazing around. A one last visit to the Shanti Stupa for a view of Leh sprawled below and the unreality of the mountains would be a perfect ending. A day of endless possibilities...

PS: Yes, we made it to Shanthi Stupa for one last time after all...

PS 2: Did I already mention it? It was glorious 15 days! And reality hurts!

Lying down on the terrace of Shanthi Stupa on our first visit

The lay of Leh beneath us

Romancing rocks and ruins -Hampi

It was a small sleepy town - like any other in India... a noisy auto stand... peddlars on the road... homes with dung washed "porches" and Kolams in rice flour... cows and crows an inherent part of the landscape - natives here seem to realise that locked in this setting is some thing very beautiful - but whether they themself identify with it is an unanswered question. The laidbackness of the town is a boon - the whole place is quiet and peaceful and the town-life in no way hampers the experience of the place.


Yes, this would have been just another town amongst the million in India, except for the fact that it sprouted on top of the erstwhile capital of the Vijayanagar Kingdom - It is surrounded by the most beautiful ruins and lies cradled in a land of rocks - as much as the place is filled with huge boulders and stark rock facades, it is contrasted with lush dark green bananana and coconut trees - you do a double take and wonder if you have beed transported to kerala. Ofcourse, the green of this place owes it to one of India's arterial rivers - the Tungabdara.

Adding to the air of this quaint cosmo town are the small shops selling bags made of mirrors and bells and the westernised version of indian attire for the firangs and dhabbas serving soem of the most exotic cuisines ever - They may not be able to spell it, but neverthless almost every dhaba serves a range of pasta's , porridges, risottos and some very good cheese omlettes - And ofcourse, the 'Mango Tree' restaurant is a must check out - it is seate on the mountain slopes overlooking the valley below - the place is even better at night when they serve dinner by lantern light!

Hmm.. I wasnt going to write much about hampi, and let my photos speak for themselves - but couldnt stop myself! I think this place deserves a very laid back visit - no need to tick off all the ruins on the list - chill out at the ones which are least crowded , maybe get a book to read - enjoy a tea on the banks of the river - take a coracle (suacer like boats) ride and laze in the beauty of the place - try the "different" cuisines. My personal favorite spot was the rock formations bang opposite to the Virupaksha- Steps and a small stage flanked by huge boulders on both sides - you trek up this place, to a point where you get a beautiful view of the achutharaya temple. While a lot of blogs mention the sunrise, I've seen better in my life - but the view from on top of matunga hill is lovely and wonderfully windy and refreshing.

As usual - some other blog info i liked ..
If dreams were made of rocks - karnataka Tuorism
A drive to hampi
All about Hampi

There is also a tourist office in the hampi market which provides u a map of the ruins plus there are tourist guides who speak english.