Ramgarh- Hidden Haven

Travelling Boots in Ramgarh

We all know I love to travel Solo, but it never meant I don't enjoy company! I just happen to be very picky about who I travel with and who can handle me when I’m not me. Allow me to explain.. I’m a very calm and unexciting person in the city I live in.. I like it like that! But when I travel I’m like this energiser bunny full of curiosity and an unquenchable thirst to see and experience everything. Something only a few can relate to. 

So when we needed to just get away for a weekend, my friends turned to me to look for options and I chose Ramgarh Bungalows. A Neemrana property tucked away on a hill a little ahead of Bhimtal and beyond Nainital. The website made it look perfectly quaint and just what we were looking for. But it was a section called ‘Writer’s Bungalow’ that had me sold. 

The route..???!!!

Friday morning 5 am we were on our way. Me with my closest and most caring friends Rohit and Swati. Rohit is the most wonderful affectionate guy I know. He is mischievous and yet a perfect gentleman and Swati and I; although we had met only recently.. she and I had connected like we were always meant to be! My absolute soul sister.. who is rarely more giving than I am. Twas a beautiful drive and like a perfect road trip should be… it was full of all kinds of songs, many pit stops and a gorgeous drive.

The air started getting crispier and colder as we went uphill and around hairpin bends, lost our way and went back and forth a few times but nothing.. I mean NO-THING, no website, no HD picture could have prepared us for the what we were about to see. The property in front of us was the perfect specimen of Romance, History and Old World Charm. Nothing but virgin green mountains all around, clear blue skies above, dew filled grass under my bare feet and butterflies dancing all around me.

The Writer's Bungalow

The Breakfast Layout

If this line alone hasn't made to time travel and taken you away from the busy life of lights and gadgets and notifications, come on… take a long drive on these winding and unwinding roads and get to Ramgarh Bungalows.

Warm, simplistic food and service in the quiet of Nature and the noise of birds, bees, breeze and words bursting in my head. We spent 1 night in Ashok Vatika where Jawahar Lal Nehru had lived once. Too tired after the early morning and long drive, I decided to snooze for a while and as I lay on the 4 post high bed; something just hit me. It was quiet. I mean just quiet. No sound of vehicles, no horns, no AC, no fan.. just some tweeting birds. The best most sound afternoon nap ever followed.

The nights were so silent that you can hear your own breath. We lay outside on the grass just gazing at the skies for hours and were simply overwhelmed by the sheer number of stars our sky could hold and we could see… a privilege we city people simply can not enjoy. 

The Writer's Bungalow

Inside Writer's Bungalows 

Cutest interiors

Twas really the next day that I found out about the story behind this place and was suddenly a whole new invigorated and inspired. The Writer’s Bungalow. Quaint cottage with 2 rooms and the cutest yellow interiors. These are old structures which have been restored so have a very earthy feel to them with the old school doors and windows. Now the best part was… many many years ago, Rabindra Nath Tagore had possibly started writing the Geetanjali here. 

Me lost..

Still Lost...

Perfect moment captured....

Yes you read me right.. here… right where I was standing he had lived and wrote. He probably was looking at the same view as I was and started writing the Geetanjali. Mahadevi Verma had also lived here… hence the name.. Writer’s Bungalow!

Ramgarh is known as the the Fruit Basket cause they grow all sorts of exotic fruits here and the best part is they rarely use any chemicals.. hence they may not be the prettiest fruits but they are exploding with taste and juices. You can go for a Nature Walk to explore the orchards around.

Sai Baba Temple- Ramgarh

Swati is religious and wanted to visit a temple so we drove all around searching for a temple and stumbled upon the cutest smallest Sai Baba temple not far away and a restaurant which served the freshest most tasty simple food we had eaten… oh my god how we indulged in pure gluttony! 

We walked for hours.. sometimes humming songs, sometimes huffing and puffing with the uphill climbs and sometimes just silently to soak the view and fill our lungs with this fresh air with smiles on our faces. 

3 days… we barely talked and yet felt more connected than ever! In the silence of nature and away from the static of radio waves and buzzing phones… we rejuvenated our minds, hearts and souls. 

The most perfect weekend getaway!

For booking with them: Ramgarh Bungalows

Paris- Love Letter to a Stranger

Je T'aime Paris

Yes Paris is romantic! Love is just in the air; it's true! How can anyone deny it? The art, the architecture, the culture sprawled all over the walls and ceilings and floors of every corner. From the touristy places to every little coffee shop on the paths less travelled; from the elite French restaurants to the lanes selling the Asian food or the cheap pizza slices being sold by Italians; Parisians love Love and Loving!

Eiffel all day

In my four days in Paris; I had it all. There were the late night walks with endless conversations, staying up late to watch the Eiffel sparkle, lying in the parks aimlessly, drinking coffee and tasting exotic chocolates in the quaint streets, the serenade from a stranger and my taking a leap of faith and falling in love and finding the happy ending. My 4 days in Paris were right out of the classic Audrey Hepburn movies with a twist.

My Airbnb flat in Paris was in one of the tallest buildings and I was on the 25th floor. I had romanticised meeting Mr. Eiffel since I can't even remember. And my first view of him sparkling like diamonds in all his glory had left me frozen in awe. With the Sacre Coeur on my right glowing in soft yellow lights on the hill and the Eiffel glittering I had sat up in the chilli balcony till late in the night. Very late.

No matter who says what about the Eiffel, I promise you, it will take your breath away. I spent a whole day just looking at it from all angles and spent the evening on the lawns, watching it come to life as the sun set. No I didn't do the Louvre as it takes a whole day and I don't like the idea of being forced to follow a path, when I have limited time and am so keen on the Impressionist era.

Limburg Orange at Sacre Coeur

The next day I went to Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart) Cathedral. Once you take a day pass in Paris, you can use it absolutely anywhere for public transport. To reach Sacre Coeur, you need to first get to Montmatre. The best stop is Pigalle (Metro Stop). Here is the funny part; you need to walk past Moulin Rouge to get to the Sacred Heart Cathedral! IRONY eh?

Once you take the Funicular, you will reach the mountain top with the view of the entire Paris. And again, it will take your breath away! I was very lucky cause not only was the cathedral absolutely gorgeous on the inside, but I was there at just the right time. The choir was singing. Wait, now picture this; you are at the top of a mountain, with the view of the Eiffel, the wind whistling in your ears, the grandeur of the Sacre Couer behind you, you turn around and enter into a cathedral with frescos and the sun shining in from the dome on top and the choir singing with the voices of the angels. It was ethereal and heavenly. I felt overwhelmed and for no particular reason, my eyes welled up. I think I was just so at peace. Each wall, each turn was full of history and angels and Jesus.

Art everywhere in Paris

My friend Craig had flown in from London to join me and as I walked out from there with a bit of a heavy heart, I was avoiding all eye contact with him. When suddenly the air was filled with the joy and sounds of fanfare. Up on the steps of the cathedral, a brass band of old chaps in Orange tees and White pants was revving up the air with "Angels by Robbie Williams". Oh how my mood becomes a slave to music! Forget minutes, in seconds I was already dancing with the women of the band. Craig started talking to one of the players Peter, who ended up knowing about Travelling Boots! Wait, What? So I meet a Dutch Brass Band in Paris and one of the guys knows about me and has read Travelling Boots??? Can you ever imagine my shock? It was my first spotting ever!! Peter introduced me to Claudia and the others in the band as the Indian woman who travels alone and invited us over to Moulin Rouge for their show at night.

Moulin Rouge

I went through the day almost absent mindedly and even though Craig was tired; he was a darling to come back for me. But at night.... the only busy looking Moulin Rouge area; was a full blown naughty street for adults only (wink wink!) with neon lights and all sorts of description of naked shows. So what did I do? Craig and I took crazy, creepy, naughty pictures infront of the red neon lit Moulin Rouge windmill (Haha!) But in the roll of all that fun we forgot about the band momentarily, and then suddenly tried to look for the sound of a brass band. We had no idea where they were so started asking strangers for the Irish Bar..well that's all we knew really!

Soon we heard them... ummm.. the cacophony of the trumpets honestly.. and Craig and I dashed towards the sound like the rats of the Pied Piper. And sadly our luck had run out; the band had just finished their last tune! But I was glad to get a warm welcome from familiar faces (not really.. I was terribly heart-broken to have missed all the music). Claudia and Peter, took me by the shoulders and pointed me towards George, the band manager and asked me to hustle him..George looked serious so I mentally prepared a whole speech to ensure I impressed him so maybe they'd play one more tune.

Claudia and me

But I was wrong, George could barely hear me when I spoke to him, but he knew I was kind of pleading for music and stepped out into the area where the whole band was. Wait, picture this again.. a group of musicians, all over the age of 40.. who had been playing since morning on all sorts of percussion instruments, some were too tired and drunk and sleeping on the tables. He came out and yelled in the midst of them; asking them to wake up for an Indian girl wanted to hear them play. And you know what...they all got up.. cheered for me.. made a circle around me and played Angels for me.. Only for me again... While I stood in the middle.

I was in Paris, travelling alone, and now had a Dutch band called Limburg Orange playing me their favourite tune in the wee hours of the morning.. all looking at me ... tired and yet smiling... For me! Yes only for me! They serenaded me! My first ever Serenade! I broke into tears... cmmmon.. wont you? If you had a band of over 20 strangers Serenade you the to a song called Angels while you were a solo traveller in Paris?

Wait; this wasn't even the best part.. Claudia later asked me what my plans were. I was still overcoming my most precious moments on earth, and told her my vague plans plainly. I hadn't really decided on my dates and plans so told her that I would go to Belgium for a bit and then Switzerland and then Netherlands. When I said Amsterdam, Claudia's eyes sparkled and she announced that she was barely 2 hours away from there and that I should come and see her.

I was a few beers down honestly; so I looked at her square in the eye and said.. "I'm a man with no plan woman, if you gonna make an offer.. I just might take it", and I meant it! She asked me to take her mobile number and to message her later with my dates.

Limburg Orange post my Serenade

She was serious. You know the song by P!nk; Glitter in the Air, hear it.. it has a line .. Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside? Few weeks later, I was in Maastricht. A place I had never heard of, with a woman I only met for 5 minutes in Paris. With her gorgeous and intelligent daughter, their adorable dog, in their home and being driven around in her convertible singing songs out loud.

We both are years apart, grew up in different geographies and cultures and yet.... somehow connected so deep and so spiritually that it's hard to explain at all. We walked in the rain and drank wine while she narrated the rich history of the town to me. I joined Claudia for her band practice where kids from the age of 10 were syncing up some wicked classic tunes along with the old chappies.

I can't put my finger on what happened to me after this experience. I... I've changed! When you meet someone with so much trust and unconditional love for an absolute stranger.. what can I say.. it changes you. Inspires you. Ignites you and Illuminates you.

Yes, Paris is romantic. I for sure found true love there and my happy ending with a friend for life, bound together by the strings of music. With all this news about hatred, I found love! And that is what Paris will remind me of for all my life.

Travelling Boots

Some related videos.. :)

Tired Limburg Orange Serenades ME!

The Choir as Sacre Coeur

Eiffel Sparkles!

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My Road to Perdition- Prague to Krakow (Auschwitz) 2

The day had already been a series of unfortunate events. There was a missed train, a cancelled train, no food, no sleep, sores on my hands and a stop over at a haunted hostel on a full moon night. I swear at that moment, standing at the train station of Ostrava again, in my head the scene from the Bollywood movie Jab We Met was playing. Where the lead actress was praying to God to not make this night any more eventful. All I needed was to get to Krakow on a decent seat.

On the train.. and the only place I found to sit!

As the train whirred in, it felt like a never ending chain of bogies. All of us waiting at the station cheered looking at each other saying, "Finally!". A little clueless we all just got in anywhere and since we did not have reservations on this train, we all just got in and groups of friends took up any empty sleepers they found. I kept looking for first class cause my God knows I needed the pampering. I walked across many coaches but couldn’t find the first class nor any official. I reached a connection between two coaches that couldn't open so decided to sit there and wait for the Ticket Checker. We soon stopped at the next station and I popped my head out the door, too scared to step out without knowing how far I would need to walk and may miss the train. I looked around for the men in uniforms, but none of them responded to my asking about the first class. So I just hung on till I would find someone who would understand me and give me some information. I looked around, stared at the board giving details about the next train and the stops for the train I was in, just staring blankly. Tried to pronounce the names of the stations to amuse myself, when it suddenly struck me. Like a bolt of lightning. It did not state Krakow. I totally panicked! I saw a man in orange overalls and just looked at him and pointed to inside the train and yelled, "Krakow?" he looked around, looked at the board and just nodded, "No Krakow". What?? What?? I was in the wrong train??? When was this hell of a day going to be over? So I signalled again to him, "Where Krakow?" And he looked around cluelessly, and pointed to the train across the platform and said, "Krakow!" My eyes searched for confirmation and felt silly cause Krakow was written all across the coaches. I jumped right out and made my way to the train, and as I stood there catching my breath, I panicked again. All those people I had met at Ostrava, all were going to Krakow, and now were sleeping all over the longest train I had seen. I couldn't possibly leave them! But I had a suitcase I couldn’t lug anymore! And didn’t even know when the train would leave! I stood smack in the middle of the platform with all these questions, and finally said to myself, "Chuck it, can't live with the guilt!" I left my suitcase there unattended for anyone to steal and ran all the way back knocking windows waking up everyone looking for the faces I had seen at Ostrava. And making violent gestures begging them to come out with their luggage cause they were on the wrong train. They got up and hurried right out in their PJs and socks and luggage and shoes in their hands.

Once I told them what had happened I got hugged and loved by all and we went into our supposed last and final train to Krakow. Now nothing could go wrong! Wrong!

We finally got food and tears came easy

Remember we didn’t have reservations? Now this was a small train and the uniforms of this train somehow just refused to even acknowledge our presence, forget talk to us or listen to us. So we all just huddled into this 1 coach which had one section of 6 sleepers unoccupied, and waited for the Ticket checker to give us his time and assign us some seats somewhere. We all just sat on the floor of this coach. Tired, hungry, clueless, hopeful. Hopeful that once they heard what we had been through they would help us. I got the place outside the toilet which was locked thankfully. When the train started the Ticket Checker got in and walked right all over us, opened the locked cabin as we looked on like puppies, got in and locked the door and drew the curtain. That’s it! We all just stood there. Completely unable to understand what was happening to us. A bunch of girls who were in their cabin, also saw the whole situation and were as dumbstruck as us. Finally one of them asked me what had happened and why were we on the floor even though there was place in the train and I rambled on and on about the entire day. She didn’t interrupt me! She just kept looking at me and nodding in sympathy. When she finally spoke, she said something that broke me.

The Spanish Angels who fed us

Something I just wasn’t prepared for. She said, "Are you hungry? Do you want some food? We have lots of it!" We had been through such cruelty all day, that when she said the most obvious human thing to say I didn’t know what to say. A little awkward, a little ashamed, and very hesitantly I said, "Umm no! I'm ok" She put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Really, we have lots of it. It's no problem!".

We still found some smiles and sleep

I nodded hard and said, "Yes, yes please I'm very hungry!" No words can explain how I was feeling as these girls spoke to each other in Spanish and started giving me all their food. Packets of chips, water, muffins. One boy even gave his half eaten sandwich apologising and asking if it was ok. Ofcourse it was ok! Tears rolled out of my eyes unstoppably. And as I walked around coach waking all the others on the floor with food in my hands, we all broke down.

We were crying because of kindness. We were smiling at our state and crying at the same time. A system that was meant to help us sat in an over-privileged surrounding while we grovelled for the basics. Much like our societies!

The whole moment was melancholic with a strum of tears and vague smiles. Dawn was breaking. We were crossing Auschwitz (one of the worst concentration camps of the Nazis). We were sprawled over the floors and I was still able to sleep next to the toilet, leaning on its door. A layer of haunted fog over the horizon which had seen some horrid cruelties.

No matter how long the day had lasted, it was over. I had connected with people without knowing where they were from. No matter what background I was coming from, there, in that moment, on that train, we were all just travellers. We were borderless. We all cared for each other. I had found love in a hopeless place. The Swedish couple next to me, shared their stories with me to help pass the time. An onlooker from the other side of the locked coaches, Chris also made conversations to help us feel better. I was bruised and battered. But my soul was enriched. Enriched with random acts of kindness all through the day. I was stronger than what I had thought. People were still nice. I had learnt lessons which no school could teach. I knew something in me had changed. Made me better.

The dawn breaking at Auschwitz

Unapologetic Request!

Travelling Boots in Vienna

Here is one of the biggest reasons I love to travel. I get to live a life; a life where I'm not perpetually watched and judged. Where I don't feel mentally groped and violated for just being me.

I feel pretty, flattered and above all Free!

I don't quiet know how to start this one so I'm gonna go to the basics. We girls in India are constantly told how to dress, how to behave and how to be good girls in the eyes of the society. Why? Here are the lousy excuses I've heard

- This is India baby!

- You know how men here are!

- Why are you inviting trouble?

And when I've tried to reason it, I've been told Indian men are frustrated! Frustrated? Was I just told that Indian men are Frustrated? Really? Seriously? Wait a minute! Aren't we one of the world's largest population? I just heard on the radio that we will beat China by 2020! And we are the exploding population country inspite of the female infanticide. And correct me if I'm wrong, child birth in India is still happening through sex right? So most of my population is screwing my country out of proportion and yet they remain sex starved? Highest rate of prostitution and yet desperate? Most with stashes of pornography and yet depraved? This doesn't add up does it?

I can't put my finger on it so here is my open letter to understand my men better.

Somewhere near the Black Forests in Germany 

While I'm in any other part of the world, I feel absolutely normal if I'm eating alone in a restaurant or having a drink alone in a bar. I can go watch a movie alone. I can take all kinds of public transport at any time of day or night. I can wear what I feel like. For some days, just a few, I am me! Unadulterated me! Unapologetic me! And no! I know what your conditioned minds are telling you to think. I am not doing anything, not a single thing to get any attention of any kind. I'm just living my life, eating my food, having a drink, taking a walk, travelling and enjoying my moment in the clothes and attitude I'd like. Period.

My dear Indian men; I was so embarrassed when I met people from across the world asking me if India was safe for women, and I had to hang my head low and answer with a sheepishly low volume "No".

No, it's not like men don't approach me or try to flirt with me seeing me alone in certain places, they do! But you know what the difference is? They don't make me feel bad for looking nice. They don't make me feel threatened if I say no. They don't make me feel like just because I'm looking nice and sitting alone that I'm inviting them. And some truly want a good conversation, that's all! And just because we have had a great conversation for a while, I don't feel obligated in any way.

It is so liberating! Just my simple freedom! Does so much for my self esteem, my confidence.

Travelling Boots in Bratislava

Hey you Indian man; when you find a girl interesting or attractive, why do you make us feel bad for looking good? Why be all creepy? How is our feeling harassed a method of you giving us a complement? Why won't you say something nice in a decent manner and make us smile instead? And if we smile and say thank you, not be pathetic and clichéd and think you "got" us?

It's a vicious circle you see? You all keep making us feel uncomfortable for looking nice, so because of parental or societal pressure we keep wearing more clothes. You molest us and violate us anyhow still, so protective people around us tell us not to go anywhere. And then since you don't see any of us you are stamped as desperate! And girls like us hate you with every breath and are praying to god something horrible happens to you. And the strangest phenomena is that now there are groups of you who do this and think it's cool or funny.

Men are men and women are women all over the world. We all want the same basic things, a good home, someone to love, respect in society and above all to be accepted just the way we are.

Why can't we just remember one basic fact? Before being a man or a woman, we are humans. I mean some of you men like being fashionable and some don't right? Some of you wear shorts cause its hot right? Some of you are friendly and some of you are not. Either ways you are being you right? Or is every breath you take a desperate attempt to get the ladies? Don't you have passions and ambitions of your own? Don't you like to pursue them ? Are you expected to quit being you because of your marital status? What if you were pinched, rubbed against, shoved and violated in ridiculous ways just because you looked attractive to somebody? By somebody you'd hate to be touched by? Against your wish? Or made to start wearing something because it was your fault you got molested?

Can you imagine our world? You expect us to look pretty and not all at the same time? You want us to be weak minded and then cheat on us because we are boring. You make cheap jokes about the sexual harassment policies in the office and yet can't understand that you just need to mend your ways. You won't let your wife dress sexy but will check out every attractive girl hoping she was yours.

Oh I love travelling! To get away from most of you. To just read my book in a bar, eat my food in a restaurant without being stared at, to just lie down in a park and stare at the sky, walk around aimlessly, talk to strangers pointlessly, discover wonderful people and do all of the above Solo! Yes I travel solo across the world, unafraid. And it kills me to confess that everytime I step out of my home, I'm insecure, afraid and avoiding any contact with any of you. My family only worries about my comfort when I travel but when I'm here, at home, they worry all the time about my security.

My hope worthy Indian men; I beg you, no I implore you, please just grow up and be mature in your ways because I'd love to see my country and so does the rest of the world without fears in our heads. Just be the wonderful men you are totally capable of being and live your life and let us live ours. 

A peaceful moment - Travelling Boots

Sri Lanka- No Strangers Here! Part 2

It was Christmas! My Christmas Morning in Sri Lanka and I had decided to treat myself to a day in the wild. My cab driver was to come and pick me up at 5 am so I had decided to stay up all night with the girls, pub hopping. So Belinda, Eva, Inma and I partied the night away.

My cabbie was a man named Tissa, who was referred to me by Deepak. Deepak and I used to study together in college and when I had updated my status on FB asking for advice on Sri Lanka, he had connected me to this very tech savvy driver. Tissa was contactable on mail and helpful and resourceful enough to not only help me plan my trip but also get me the required discounts and get me through long queues.

Tissa arrived on-time and soon we were on our way. It was supposed to be a 3 hour long drive to Yala National Park. I slept almost instantly in the back seat. When I woke up it was past 10 am and we were still en-route. Tissa updated me that since it had been raining cats and dogs and dragons we were wayyy behind schedule. But he had planned and co-ordinated with the safari guy at the Park to manage accordingly. We reached Yala at about 11 and after a quick coffee and sandwich we were ready to go explore the WILD!

Yala National Park

Yala is known for Leopards and boy was I excited. But nature had completely different plans laid out for me. In my travels; I ensure I hit every and any preserves or zoos I can. I had been very lucky with spottings of the wild beasts everywhere and ofcourse was hoping for the same. I had imagined and hoped I'd get to see a leopard on a tree branch like they show on Discovery.

My ranger arrived soon and the great news was that I was the only passenger in his truck! Anyone who has been on a safari would understand... this is the best thing to happen! This meant I could ask him to stop anywhere for as long as I'd like without feeling guilty for the rest of the passengers. I was elated! It looked like a promising day. In my previous travels, I had seen almost all the wild cats except leopards and just couldn't wait. However, in all my excitement I was oblivious to the fact that it had been raining... Raining! Raining since morning!!

We drove around for hours, with zero visibility and incessant rain and windows rolled up and wet and cold and a driving path with only muddy waters and slush. Hours! Wasted! My ranger did show me pigs... and I said I'm from India dude. Then he showed me some buffaloes and I again said I'm from India dude. Same for a drenched peacock. I think I was so bored that I recall being excited about seeing one.. just one... only one elephant! But soon again; looked at my still determined ranger and said.. I'm from India dude!

I was cold, I was wet, I was hungry by the time we got back to the base. I promptly jumped into Tissa's car and requested to take me to a small shack for some freshly prepared hot and spicy food! It's a very Indian thing to eat something hot and spicy and unhealthy when it rains. I had to feel satiated somehow!

Tissa took me to just the place! A small shabby family run shack! I requested for the best local meal. The food and service that followed... was overwhelming to say the least! I had the grandfather, father and a couple of aunts I believe stand in attention; watching everything I was doing and aching  for my approving reactions.  The simple fish-curry-rice request came with over nine options. I looked at them awkwardly while I ensured I was trying to make them feel as special too. But what a heart warming experience for a cold cold day!

Everyone at home had had an equally dull day being in house arrest due to rains. Belinda, Jose, Sergio, Inma, Eva and I went for dinner gloomily and ate at an Italian restaurant with decent food but grumpy owner!

Christmas was over and Jose, Sergio and my darling and affectionate Inma were leaving the next day.

The next day. The 26th of December. I was in Hikkaduwa on the 10th anniversary of the Tsunami. There is a local tradition in Hikkaduwa; where the surfers would swim deep into the sea and form a circle to offer prayers to all the departed.

The Surfer's offering prayers in Hikkaduwa for Tsunami victims

All of us got up got ready and headed for the beach at sharp 9 am. There was complete silence on the beach. A sea of people; mostly expats; just staring at the sea. Silently. Some of them in tears, some of them lost in thought, leaning over someone and some just sitting still on the beach. It was amazing how the same beach where all of us had partied all night the previous night could look so different today. We all stood still too.. I held on to Belinda's hand. Not a sound except the gushing of the unforgiving waves.

None of us knew a word like Tsunami till that day 10 years ago. And after having seen the photo museum and hear the stories and yet be facing the same waters; I think I felt myself change. The people we lost to the Tsunami, were not my friends; they were not my family; but I cared. And I was mourning them. One of my traveller friend had once explained that it is one thing to know a place by reading about it or surfing the net about it. You can only make one of your senses enjoy that place. But when you are there... when you travel.. you allow all your senses to indulge in that space and experience it by the sounds, the smells, the tastes, the touch. But here I stood with my heart and mind drowned in sorrow like never before. I had seen the news when it happened and ofcourse felt bad, but this was different. I felt different.

I saw some people crying while I tried to fight my own tears and strangers would come and hold them for a bit. Not a word exchanged. No stories asked. Just support and being there and hugging them close. This was the most unreal thing.. experience.. emotion I had ever felt! Unity in tragedy by just being human! No money, no words, no plans could or would have comforted like just a hug! While I sit and write about that day; today; I wish we all hug more! Hugs are therapeutic to the wounded souls! And there is no better feeling to be hugged purely!

Saying bye to my Spanish friends

We bid an emotional bye to Jose, Sergio and Inma. And Belinda then dropped me off to the beach where I could snorkel and swim with the turtles. A good way to get over the heaviness in my head and heart. I rented the gear and dashed into the cool waters. The reef was instantly bursting with colors and life. Now I have a fear! I can swim and snorkel easily but ummm.. only as long as I know how deep the waters are. And oh as long as no water enters my mouth. Ya.. ya.. judge me all you want.. I have some hang ups man!! So after I had seen some spectacular fish and no turtles, I realised I'd have to go deeper. So I went back to the guy I rented the equipment from and asked him to swim with me just for support if I got uneasy.

So here's what happened... we went in deep and began to see the turtles.. oh what a feeling it was to be so close to these magnificent and only cute reptiles. I was holding the arm of my equipment guy till he then suggested and requested if he could hold me around the back instead cause I was restricting his swim. Sounded reasonable so I sheepishly agreed.. ummm.. only to realise that moments later while I experienced complete excitement to almost touching the turtles; our man here had decided to support and manoeuvre me by gripping my ass!! I shrugged him off immediately assuming it was a slip and continued giving my complete attention to the turtles. Shortly our man tried it again. So here I was in the midst of multiple extreme emotions. Seeing and swimming with turtles, in unknown depths of an ocean that had a history of being violent, controlling and hearing my breathing through the snorkel mask while I'm scared and a man trying to make the best of this vulnerable condition!! Men! Stupid stupid beach boys! I first asked him to take me back to shallow waters cause I could not have screamed or hit him being in the ocean so deep. Gave him a mouthful moment I had my feet on the ground and mask off. And that's all I could do!

Seriously! I don't know what some men are thinking.. or rather why they are not thinking 90% of their time!!

Me with Joy and Belinda

Walked off the beach without a shower. Belinda was picking me up to take me for a boxing day lunch tradition she had with a lady called Joy. We picked a bottle of wine and en-route Belinda told me that it was Joy who had initially looped her into the Tsunami Relief program years ago. That Joy was in fact her version of Mother Teresa.

Joy's home was bright and warm and simple. And Joy herself; oh my god! So warm. So loving. So giving. It was so easy to see the purity in her soul. She sat with me asking about me and said things to me that I will remember forever. It was like she could see my soul as easily as I saw hers. Many people came for the lunch and the food was beautiful. Some travel stories exchanged and Belinda and I headed back to the beach for another swim.

Once we got there and started talking that we forgot about the waters and spoke for hours. We spoke about every facet of our lives and even though we had just met and she was merely my airbnb host, we had become friends. And spoke like long lost girlfriends who had met after years. We both got dressed later in the evening and went clubbing to celebrate my last night in Hikkaduwa.

The gorgeous beaches of Hikkaduwa, Galle, Sri Lanka

I had a flight back the next night and had asked Tissa to plan my day and take me around Kandy area. And Boy; is he a planner!? We drove for a few hours and reached Pinnawala, Elephant Orphanage. You can get a 50% off on tickets with your Indian Passport. Tissa did his magic and helped me avoid the long queue. And soon I was inside the elephant haven. The whole family standing together and being friendly to all visitors. You can feed the baby elephants with milk too if you will.

But, while I went close to the baby elephant and the care takers offered to click my pictures; I think I stood next to the naughtiest of em all! The baby started with playing with my stole, and that was cute and I was thinking this will make a great picture. Then.. he started nudging on my shorts.. and I pretended to be playful and try push him away... but soon he had gotten a complete grip of my shorts in his trunk and was pulling hard. You read me? He was pulling hard with his trunk on my shorts.. embarrassment came wayyyy later. And while I struggled with thoughts of being killed my a baby elephant and hollering for help, the crowd and the helpers stood laughing and taking pictures and making videos. Yes, it sounds and may have seemed funny for everyone, but you ask me?? It wasn't funny being the object of desire to an elephant I promise you!

The place has free tours of how elephant dung is converted to paper which you could check out. Next stop was a tea factory where they show you the processing of tea leaves to various types of teas. One can and must purchase the exquisite teas from these factories.

Sri Lanka is also known for its spices so we made a quick stop at a Spice Garden where they take you on a tour to educate you on various plants and some of the stuff is pretty incredible. They also have absolutely natural oils and potions for various ailments.

My last stop was going to be at Kandy, at the Temple of the Tooth. It holds a tooth of Gautam Buddha. The temple is spread out and has a glorious ceremony in the evenings and the walls are full of paintings depicting the entire history of the tooth and the temple. The temple is very important politically and historically and is amazingly peaceful inspite of the large number of visitors. And unlike Colombo, this temple was full of monks ready to help and guide.

Sri Lanka had been full of surprises for me. I made friends I'll cherish forever, I saw people working for improving a place even though this wasn't their own country, I met people who inspired me, I partied hard, touched nature, swam with the turtles, cried for people I never knew and came home with memories of a lifetime!

One stranger less.. Thank you Airbnb!

San Francisco - The Pier, The Prison and The Parenting!

There were only two reasons why San Francisco ever featured in my itinerary, an old friend had told me once many many years ago that I must see how beautiful it could be and being a music lover I had heard the song,

 “If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair” by Scott McKenzie.

 And if you have heard this song I'm sure you are smiling, it's just a simple, soft song giving the warmest feel of the city.

I slept through my flights to San Francisco and was going to be staying with a single mother and her daughter in SF. I had badgered Mary with multiple queries about Alcatraz and she had been very patient and honest with all her advice and descriptions. So I was expecting a professional lady to greet me on arrival. As I left the airport my shuttle was waiting; a good way to travel to and from most airports in USA is to use the shuttle services, they are pre booked a day in advance preferably and are very economical and safe.

I had the cutest welcome by her daughter. She was probably 11 or 12 years old, had curly hair till her shoulders which were kept free and untamed and wore a pink tee with blue pyjamas and had the most warm, honest, gleeful smile. Her father was there too. A pretty grumpy man with hurry and disapproval on his face screaming out loud. But the daughter's absolute cuteness made it easy to ignore him as she showed me the facilities and things in the kitchen and even asked me if I needed coffee and the man just sat there looking at his watch and repetitively reminding her he was late, till she very assertively asked him to back off saying "I have a guest to take care of Dad, please wait" and smiled back at me confidently. I told her she could go and I'd take care of myself and watched her hop away while she kept talking about things to take care of... Mary was a very interesting woman and her house was eclectic in style with art pieces kept randomly all over. These pieces were not conventionally beautiful but raw and drew attention. Her walls were full of paintings of people and faces, now I won't call them masterpieces but there was definitely an intriguing story behind them, and I wanted to know. Mary came in later that evening and we caught up and she was the most strong and vulnerable woman I had ever met. In her pictures she looked lovely with her red hair but when I had met her she had chopped her hair very very short.

My room at Mary's home

Coco Chanel said "A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life" and Mary had recently been divorced after what seemed to be a traumatic marriage. Please know this; I am not a sexist nor am I a feminist, I just believe in people but perhaps am guilty of understanding women more easily than men and hence can project their stories better. She was clearly struggling in her life but had an air of pride protecting her carefully. Through our conversations she told me that after her divorce she had struggled with expression and then found paint and everything became easy step by step and she was still on her path of total recovery. Her life lay in her daughter and most of the paintings were of her in various moods and colours. Both of them would interact as almost adults and I must admit it was a bit strange to hear such a little girl voice out her 'opinions'. Mary kept asking for justification for them and the baby would think for a while and then substantiate each of her reactions or opinions with logic.

The stuck cloud on the Golden Gate Bridge

I think I was too tired that night to process what was happening. I woke up well rested the next morning and decided to walk. San Francisco has the most wonderful weather and roads are just perfect for long walks. Directions were easy... "Walk straight down the Fillmore St.", and I would reach the Marina. It was a mile long walk and it was 8 am. I had managed to get some coffee and a croissant and I must confess the air was so fresh that my body felt lighter and in-spite of the rod in my leg the mile long walk didn't make me break a sweat. Soon enough; there it was, the Marina; with couples and men and women of all ages walking their dogs, some jogging, some on cycles, some hand in hand and many stalls put up at the Marina Greens. I sure was a bit overwhelmed with so much activity at this hour only to realise in a moment that that day it was the 'Escape from Alcatraz- Triathlon' and there was a sea of fitness enthusiasts and families cheering all over... It was perfect for me to steal some energy from.. So I cheered ... No one in particular and everyone in general and just that got my blood pumping. I walked further down and suddenly... Just like that... It was right there... The iconic Golden Gate Bridge.. It truly was looking like a marvel... and like a scene out of Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes with a cloud stuck on them. I saw it and hoped as the day progressed that the clouds would clear out .. Well the whole sky did clear out but those clouds stayed stuck on the top of the bridge. I walked all around the Yacht Harbor while a couple of young sweaty athletes or joggers offered to take pictures of me.. :) Of-course I was flattered.. And they would then carry on wishing me a lovely day ahead.

The Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon

Now what I did not realise was that I had already walked over a mile and had reached the joggers area; so when I asked people for directions to Pier 33 for my Alcatraz tour they pointed me towards the walking trails. I felt very proud of myself when on returning back to India, I went online and checked that in a matter of hours, I had another walked 4.5 kms that day!

 You know nowadays we all are needy for information and we think too much, I on the other hand don't like too much information and am a pretty one step at a time person.. It's like ever since they have put up the timers at the traffic signals, I find myself staring at them hoping it turns green and the wait now seems longer than it did before. Earlier we would talk and look at each other but now most people just sit there staring at the timer.. counting down. So when the people said that way... I kept walking that way... never asked how far...when I would get tired I sat down and when the pain kicked in... I sat a little longer... The walk was so full of picture perfect scenes and other walkers and joggers of all ages that it was easy for me to draw energy from them. With the sea on my left and a beautiful Fort Mason Green on my right I just kept walking and let my mind wander. And within moments I was completely lost in thought and my mind took me back to the conversation I had heard the previous night. Mary and her daughter had a wonderful relationship. And I was full of awe and a familiar feeling towards mothers in general. Most of us find it easy to connect with our mothers and just love them.

The uphill walk at Fort Mason Greens

No matter how many poems people write or how much we try to describe their awesomeness... we simply can't. We all women could be astronauts, doctors, ambitious corporates, competitive sharks, or anything but when it comes to having our babies, we bend backward to keep the umbilical cord connected. I'll talk about only the women I've seen... They were always under pressure... mostly created by themselves... as if this was all they were born for and this was their life mission and if they were not successful as the world's best mother nothing they did in other aspects of their lives would be of any value. And honestly, I aspire to be one too.. I pray that I turn out to be half as amazing a mother as my mother is. But then suddenly... a shocking pattern hit me.. that men weren't as keen on becoming the world's best dad... No No wait... Allow me to explain..  As I've grown up and seen all I have, I personally feel that ego gets the better of fathers and mothers can drop even their self respect to keep families together... I don't know about other countries.. I know this happens in Indian families... Our mothers are the only reason that most of us put up with our fathers and the reasons for some of them always being so easily irritable and 'scolding us' kinds is normally cause we wouldn't agree with them or think differently. While women focus on families; the men have always been focused on earning money and our 'Society' is OK with that. The most successful woman is considered a failure if her kids don't turn out to be stars.. however when it comes to men.. as long as they can run the house with money they are good.

I was troubled... How and why was this? When did this become ok? Didn't we all need a wholesome family? My dad is no villain but I can go weeks without talking to him but need to connect with my mother almost regularly and she makes most of the efforts... and continues to call me to check on me no matter how many times I have hung up saying "I'm busy, I'll call you back" and never did. Why didn't we encourage our men to be as involved with their kids? Why did moms cover up their husbands behaviours when they didn't agree with them and let them walk away as they explained to us "You know your dad na.. It's ok". Why were dads not taught to communicate better? Why weren't we teaching our boys to be good husbands and fathers like we train our girls to be good wives and mothers? Many questions kept sprouting with many memories and each thought kept simplifying matters and relationships for me and I knew what I needed to change. Or atleast try.....

When people ask me why do I travel alone; this is what I tell them. When we travel with someone then we focus our time and energies on them and hold conversations with them, which is beautiful. But when I travel alone, I talk to people... I hear them... I think about them.. I learn from them... They make me think about things I simply can't find the time to in my day to day life and nuances while I battle grocery lists and home chores and traffic and work.

This is where I sat a little longer....

Mary had set a perfect example of good upbringing to me. When she came to know that there had been a heated moment between her daughter and her ex-husband, she patiently asked her if she was rude and the little girl thought for a moment and said "No, I don't think I was rude", and I agree she wasn't. She then asked her why did she say what she did to which the girl again thought and responded with complete calm "I was embarrassed", Mary asked why and she further explained looking at me hesitatingly "Mom, we had a guest at home and I needed to tell her about the house and he was being rude and kept interrupting me so I had to ask him to stop" and Mary didn't disagree. I liked that... I liked that very much.. She reinforced to her gorgeous daughter that she should never keep quiet if anyone made her uncomfortable about anything.. She should always voice out her disagreement with grace. WOW!! Such a simple incident could have so much impact on us... It had so much impact on me... their simple conversation had made me think about so much.. And made the long walk so easy.

Outside the 'Hole' in Alcatraz and feeling BUCK!

And when I saw the time I was still far and I had 10 minutes left for my booking at the Alcatraz, I rushed my tired feet as hard as I could and reached just in time. As I serpented my way through to the big boat which was going to take me to the notorious Alcatraz, the island stood right in-front of me in complete isolation in the never ending sea with a promise of so many stories to be told. I recommend good walking shoes for Alcatraz, if you want to see all the parts and are curious to know of all the stories of the worst criminals and the escape attempts. What took me by surprise was that San Francisco looked glorious from the prison and I couldn't help but think... that for the criminals it must have been such a sore sight.. I mean.. the good life was right infront of them at all times.. almost within their reach except for no way to escape and a freezing sea between them and the straight lanes and lives of the good people. They even had a section for dogs who were trained to attack when told. Inside the prison walls and the individual prisons.. the likes of me.. 'tourists' were getting their pictures clicked behind bars with smiles... but when I asked someone to take a picture of me.. I couldn't help myself and feel ... ummmm .. BAD and BUCK... so I made the 'Criminal faces' and soon enough like a fad.. everyone was clicking pics behind bars with the appropriate expressions... hahahah... 

The view from Alcatraz- The straight lanes and lives of San Francisco!

On my arrival back to land; my friend was already waiting to pick me up with his wonderful wife and son. Tushar is an IT professional and had lived here for over a decade. And even though we hadn't met in over 15 years.... Was kind enough to take me around and later even insist I stay over in his posh home with the cream carpets and a pool in the backyard. I did have a rough plan for that day but was meeting him after so long that I didn't feel comfortable making demands so I let him plan my day. It's good to let go and throw away the oars sometimes, I say. He drove me all around SF and showed me the much famed and beautiful crooked road... which was such a pretty sight with the flowers all along it and then took me for a long drive, over the Golden Gate Bridge to the 17 mile road. Again, I was meeting him after about 15 years, and he was a friend of my brother in law and we had met at my sister's wedding and yet he and his wife; also an IT professional went out of their way with their son who wasn't too well to show me the city. Now the 17 mile drive

, I don't know if this place features in any lists of To-Sees but I sure loved it... Twas long and winding and had mountains on one side and sea on the other.. We drove through trees and multiple picturesque spots and then came across a spot where the trees had the weirdest shapes... One was called the Ghost Tree and I swear it did look like a ghost.

The Ghost Tree- 17 Mile Drive

When they had asked me what I wanted to eat I had requested Sambar rice, I was craving home cooked simple meals. But, we got home very late that night. The next morning; she had made it for me :). I sat in the sunny backyard to soak up the sun and ate over two servings of rice :) before they dropped me to the airport and we exchanged promises to be in touch.

San Francisco had been absolutely wonderful with amazing weather and so many gorgeous places to see... But I was going to the airport with thoughts of Mary and smiling about the kindness of Tushar and his family. And reminding myself of the lessons I had learnt and praying I would remember them when I became a mother.