Eastern Europe 2009 - a journey begins

I am back, I am back, I am back! And actually not all that excited to be back. It’s been 2 weeks since my 18-day vacation got over- the first week was sleep deprived with a lot of work, the second week has been me battling my cold. And still, even as all these mundane of my life overpower me back to reality, I can still close my eyes and transport myself to the time when I was swimming in the aquamarine seas, or the time we cycled downhill at wind-breaking speeds.

Where do I start? Despite my disgruntled mood at the outset, and a lot of shakeups to our plans, the trip was fabulous. It was quintessential Europe –soaking in the architecture, revelling equally in old, weighty buildings as well as the charming rustic villages, walking around old town squares till our feet hurt, lounging in cafes. But also more!

It’s hard to put in words what I imagined about Eastern Europe. Places like Prague and Croatia definitely had that magical quality about them, and partly because they were lesser trodden. I knew they were “developing” vs being the developed. I had heard that their trains and buses and transport aren’t as good as in the West. I had heard the people can be a little cold. I wasn’t sure if poverty was an issue the way it is in India or not really. All these tit bits don’t give a picture by themselves, but tend to be a downer and make you a bit wary. But don't worry! From the word go, these cities rid you of these distortions.

From the moment we stepped on Prague, from the airport to the metro, all we could think of was this doesnt feel like what Eastern Europe should feel like (That’s also because Czech replaced its age old communist era train system in 2000 after a flood). Croatia was like a resort, and may be off the lot, Bratislava showed a bit of wear.

One of the streets in the old town square, Czech

Yes, some of the things used to describe Eastern Europe is true and I agree, countries like Czech may have come a long way ahead than others. Alright, everyone on the road doesn’t stop to smile at you, but that is likely true of UK too. They don’t have TGV’s, but their trains were still OK and on time!!! I didn’t notice a single homeless person in Prague like you see in New York (and of course India), but our walking tour guide did mention there were druggies who begged for money. And of course, coming from India, really, it seemed almost ridiculous to be apprehensive, and they seem light years ahead in infrastructure.

Street outside my room, Czech

Need you ask? I am telling everyone to go to Czech and Croatia and Eastern Europe, especially before they join the Euro regime :).

And yes, I have so more tales to tell, if you will only listen. Till I can sort all that out in my head, I’ll leave you with some initial glimpses of the places I’ve been to.

Stone alleyway, Croatia

The Euro Trip...

Ok. I have been waiting to do this post for a long time now. And i’ve pushed it far enough (for the fear of jinxing the trip) just till everything fell into place. Which it almost did – until it fell apart this morning. Hehe - so much for waiting for the perfect moment huh? So no better time like now.

In a few hours, I leave for Prague with my friend (yeaaay!!!) – which is where our official Europe trip starts. I’ve been researching Europe for a while now, and somehow after always finding reasons to push it out, this year I thought I have to make it happen. I was contemplating travelling alone – but I doubt I would have really done that. And so, when my friend also joined in, there was no turning back.

Czech had caught my fancy at a time when it was still offbeat. And though it is definitely mainstream now (I personally have heard of quite a few people who have been there this year), it hasn’t lost its sheen in my eyes. I can’t remember how I zeroed in on Croatia - probably when my other friend said that she finds beaches more exciting that architecture. Vienna was added in because it was on my friends wishlist and Bratislava as a transit point.

So, it came together as Česká republika, Österreich, Slovensko and Hr̀vātskā. (Don't you love the way the names roll off your tongue???)

We were tightly timing our visas and it seemed every possible delay was going to happen to our visas. The schengen which should have been a cake walk, took a few days longer. Every extra day the schengen took, meant lesser days for the Croatian. The Croatian – well, what should have happened on Monday, was magically pushed out by another day and another day. Finally – yesterday we were relieved. The Croatian visa had been stamped. Only, to find today, when we got our passports in hand, that our Croatian visa falls short by 2 days!@#$%!!!!

Our final flight is from Croatia to Mumbai – and so now we have to rework that. Most of all – of all the places, I’ve been really excited about Croatia and i had almost transported myself to its beaches and it seemed like a fitting end. Now the visa not only cuts our time in Croatia from 6-7 days to just 3 days, but also messes up our last few days.

The entire day, I don’t think i really believed this was happening and expected that magical last-minute-things-fall-into-place-end would be the end. But that isn’t our end and I am a little upset. Still - on the brighter side, I cant wait for tomorrow to start when I will finally land in Prague - (touchwood)!!!

Flocking over Mumbai...

The endless blue sea, the strong sandstone Gateway balancing itself against the waves, the yatchs beyond, the paved clearing ahead, peddlers here and there, couples holding hands, families laughing, kids running about… and the scene suddenly broken by the flight of a flock of pigeons. This scene is a classic one, undoubtedly evoking Mumbai to people’s mind.

The white one among the black sheep

I don’t think these pigeons have consciously ever occupied my thought – till Mumbai. In Mumbai, they gain a significance other than the one above. Imagine this…

Once again, I am standing in the service area behind my bathroom looking at the mess the blasted pigeons had created. There is still one pigeon fluttering about in panic, trying to escape out of a window that had been wired precisely for NOT allowing pigeons in. And once again I would have to call the apartment help to take the bird out. Yes, unimaginable, but they keep losing their way within my service area and can’t seem to recognize that just because they see the open world outside, they still cannot fly out of a window that has been wired. Comic really, if u are in the mood for it. And once again I am swearing, “stupid bird”! This is a scene that plays over and over again in my flat in Bombay.

To keep the pigeons out, I wired the windows. They didn’t get the message started coming in through the vent in the roof meant for pipes. Then they began to build nests. I kept removing them, and they kept rebuilding them. Then they laid eggs, which is a stupid move considering I am likely to throw them out in anger. But by that point I’d given up. So now the blasted pigeons have their very private own area in my apartment. And yes, they are my constant company with their never ending guttural ‘ow ow’ cries!

So, when I landed up at the gateway for a photog enthusiast meet, I was surprised to find myself shooting the pigeons more than anything else. Or rather the scene around the pigeons. There are peddlers around the Gateway who sell channa (or some such) so people can have fun feeding the pigeons. It was amazing to see the joy on the kids faces as they tried to catch the attention of these birds (which by the way are spoilt for attention!) Personal irks aside, the pigeons are here to stay in this city - roosting in every crevice they can find in this concrete jungle or being fed by the endless tourists who land up to see the Gateway!

Father and son trying to feed the birds

Greedy pigs pecking of from people's hands

Excited kids!

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

A House in Fez

The shelf was lined with several books of my favourite theme - people buying a house in a new country and the cacophony and confusion that follows. However, it seemed like Tuscany and Provence were the most sought after places. It got me wondering if these authors stumbled upon each other at some point of time. Anyway, amongst a mire of vineyards and valleys, I caught sight of 'A house in Fez' where the author was re-doing a house in Fez, Morocco. My interest was sufficiently piqued.

The theme is well known – Suzanna Clark (author) after visiting Fez just once falls in love. With the place. And so, she and her husband decide to buy a Riad (the Moroccan word for one kind of a bungalow) here. The story is all about the people she meets in the process of restoration. The book was an easy read. I loved Morocco as a setting. The cafe's she discovers, the traditions, the shops she goes looking for – in search of doors, windows and whatever else that goes into making homes. Of course, the quirks of the local people as well. Morocco has now fallen into my travel radar as a result of this book.

However, I did think that her style of writing was somewhat lacking. It wasn't somehow the most interesting narrative from a point of view of judging a written account per se - the words themself and her narration of events or feelings or experiences were somehow not the most evocative account i've read. Nevertheless, a reasonable nice read!