As the Wind Blows

Photos: Mt Whistler

rachthe1st — Sat, 21 Sep 2013 09:40:00 GMT

Photos: Goa

rachthe1st — Sun, 4 Mar 2012 11:38:00 GMT

Bombay - Mumbai - Bombay

rachthe1st — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 21:32:00 GMT

I’ve never politely eaten so much food before in my life! When you visit people over here, they don’t seem satisfied until you’ve eaten a whole meal (the size of at least two whole meals in Australia) and had seconds. Thirds would make them even happier. I suppose they must think it’s an insult to their cooking if you don’t take huge portions of everything, or maybe they just thought I looked underfed. Either way I’m overwhelmed by the hospitality everyone over here displays. You can turn up on their doorstep in the middle of the night without letting them know and they’ll still welcome you with a big smile on their faces and try and force you to eat a mountain of food.

The biggest tourist attraction in Bombay is the train system. Visit the Gateway of India, the Hanging Gardens, the Zoo, by all means but none will be more fascinating that the train system. Ladies in colourful saris all packed into the first class ladies compartments (the ladies in the first class compartment are dressed in a more westernised manner and are never ‘packed’), men sandwiched and hanging out of the men’s compartment, hawkers (from little boys to mothers holding their babies) selling their wears on trains and the railings between each compartment really does make you feel like you are in a zoo.

I’ve seen the standard Mumbai tourist attractions on my last visit and after being a tourist for a sustained period of time, I enjoyed being like my travelling companions on the coach trip and spending more time shopping and eating (even while politely having third helpings the food’s delicious). My travel journal which had, until now, being filled with tickets from local tourist attractions, is now being filled with receipts to saris, bangles and clothes. After a year of living on a strict budget and only buying necessities, splurging on pretty things doesn’t seem so bad.

Speaking of sari shopping I recommend everyone do it at least once, or see it being done. It’s an elaborate process whereby when you come in and sit at a long table and shop assistants pull out sari material after material from neatly stacked shelves and drape them all over the tables. (I feel really bad for the people who have to re-fold the mounds of materials). Once you’ve narrowed your selection down, they drape your selections around you so you can see what looks good on you. Then you decide which ones you want to buy. After that they cut off the sari blouse component and you get a tailor to stitch one for you. I won’t bore everyone with my traumatic experience with tailor making my sari blouse, all I can say is get it done by someone who’s business it is to make sari blouses. First world issues, I know. After all of that, I hope I get an opportunity to where my saris.

What else can I say about Bombay? Oh yes the mosquitoes. I’ve always been allergic to Bombay mosquitoes every since I was little. I thought I had done reasonably well to fend them off at night by completely covering up, but they decided to go for the one part of my body that was exposed - my face. Let’s just say, with eight or nine big swollen and threatening-to-turn-bright-red lumps all over my face, I looked a lot like Disney’s the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I suppose the mozzies thought that if I could have second and third helpings, so could they.

Photos: Surburban Bombay

rachthe1st — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 03:50:00 GMT

Pause

rachthe1st — Mon, 6 Feb 2012 20:23:00 GMT

When most people travel, I suppose it’s like pressing the Pause button on their lives. While everyone else’s lives lumber on, they stop working, studying, socialising, playing sports, exercising, dieting and whatever else is close to their hearts. (Bills and taxes are unfortunately are not so easy to pause . . ) However they replace these seemingly mundane activities with adventure, new experiences, new foods and observing/participating in how other cultures lives lumber on.

For me the last three months have been the opposite. Instead of pausing my real life, I paused my travelling life, and found real life to be quite a novelty.

I suppose being away from home, family, friends and work colleagues and the like for eight months made me appreciate normalcy a lot more. Lunches, dinners, cooking actual meals and not increasingly creative sandwiches (I’m going to miss sardines, lettuce and corn kernels with bbq sauce and cheese), going to the movies, shopping and exercising (to attempt to slowly readjust my body to sitting around all day). Of course none of these included working and I’m sure I’ll quickly unappreciated normalcy once I return to work.

So I’m off again; this time to visit the motherland. I don’t expect be visiting many tourist attractions, they’ll still be there in another decade I’m sure, but I'll probably be spending more time visiting priceless treasures that may or may not be around the next time I visit.

Photos: Sunset over Singapore

rachthe1st — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 18:08:00 GMT

Week 34: Dijon and Paris

rachthe1st — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 18:00:00 GMT

When most people think of Dijon, they most likely will think of mustard. From now on, when I hear the word Dijon, I’ll think chaos. In theory it should not even had embedded itself in my memory for longer than the 12 hours we were there, however the difficulties our poor driver Bernard had in navigating a coach when half the streets were dug up to build tram tracks and every other street was closed down wouldn’t have been fun. Luckily calm old Bernard just ignored all the consistent blaring car horns and with the help of a local driver managed to get the coach to the hotel in one piece.

Understandably, the next morning we all wanted to leave Dijon and it’s dug up streets far behind. However the town seemed determined to hold us there for as long as possible. The lift of the hotel refused to let two of my travel companions leave thus delaying our departure. I’m just glad I took the stairs. Two flights of stairs or being stuck in a lift? Hmmm
We had to wait an hour for a man with a tool box to turn one screw and let them out of the lift. Some tradespeople have the easiest job.

And again I found myself in Paris.

The first Sunday of the month in France means free entry into several tourist attractions, for example the Louvre. Only having an hour for lunch, I ignored my tour director’s misgivings about not having enough time to see the world’s most famous painting (she did after all almost leave me behind in a foreign land) and wandered off to see the converted palace.

I’ll admit that the only entrance I know to the Louvre is the secret one. If you asked me where the actual entrance is, I’d just stare at you blankly and wonder how everyone else got in, because there were no other tourists going in the secret entrance when I went but there were a sure lot of people inside.

The Mona Lisa is quite easy to find, there are signs everywhere and if all else fails there are bored guards standing around to help you out. The crowd to see the Mona Lisa was at least nine people deep when I was there, most just taking photos and not really observing the brushstroke, or what it is you do when you look at paintings. And with limited time, (because I didn’t trust the tour director to leave without me again), I followed suit.

But that painting is not what impressed me during my all too quick visit to the Louvre, it was the building itself and the Spanish Gallery. No-one ever really talks about Spanish artists; it’s all about the Italians and for a person who doesn’t know the first thing about art (well I do know about primary and secondary colours but that’s about it :P) I was definitely impressed by the Spanish paintings. I know this because the paintings made me stop and forgot about rushing for a minute or two. Then of course I reached my senses and rushed back to the meeting point. I would have stayed longer and sprinted, but I’m pretty sure security would have had a thing or two to say about that.

And this time I managed to let the Eiffel Tower take my breath away – literally because it’s so ridiculously windy up there! I wouldn’t recommend being up there in autumn, it is so cold at night! The only advantage though is that the lines aren’t as long in autumn, it only takes an hour waiting in line and the tickets to the top don’t sell out. That said Paris is so popular that there were long lines to every major attraction I past in the city although it wasn’t even term break. I wonder what makes Paris so popular and more particularly if I’ll ever see what everyone else sees in this most famous of cities.

Photos: Paris (again)

rachthe1st — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 11:00:00 GMT

Week 34: Lake Lugano and Luzern (Lucerne)

rachthe1st — Fri, 9 Dec 2011 13:36:00 GMT

Switzerland. Home of skiing, chocolates and watches, the Swiss Guard and the Swiss franc. ‘Twas the place where I realised that altitude sickness does really exist and the place I decided to do my family souvenir shopping, spending more than what I earnt in two months in 20mins. I should have opened a Swiss bank account instead, that would have been more responsible. But who is responsible on holidays? That’s what real life is for.

So after leaving Italy which was pouring with rain, we entered Switzerland which was pouring with rain. The only difference between the two is that when it rains in Switzerland, sporadic waterfalls can be seen cascading down from nearby mountains. Aside from that, it’s like every other country when it rains. People take shelter indoors.

For example, when we stopped at Lake Lugano, everybody went straight into the shopping center and maccas – like Lugano was the only place in the world shopps and McDonalds exist. Armed with my bright pink umbrella I decided to wander around the lake and tried to distinguish between the lake and the clouds because they were both the same shade of grey. Lake Lugano is supposed to be one of the popular places for tourists during summer, but I couldn’t see it that day, all I could see was grey.

Luzern is a very popular town with an old, yet pointless, bridge across a section of the lake. Lots of celebrities and even European Royalty have/had holiday homes in this part of the world and if go there you’ll understand why.

The best place to admire any town or lake in Switzerland is to view it from a top of a mountain. We went up the funicular (which if it was going ten times faster would have been scarier than a roller coaster ride) to the top of Mount Pilatus. The views from the top literally took my breath away.

The day before I had thought that my fitness had improved carrying my luggage up and down the stairs (really who need lifts when you stay on the first or second floor). However when I ascended the narrow stairs to the top of one of the mountain peaks I had to admit I had to stop for oxygen. At first I thought I had deluded myself the day before and I hadn’t really improved my fitness, but when I noticed nearly everyone else who climbed up with me stopping at least once before reaching the top and then heard one woman complaining about the altitude I realised it was just nature against me.

The views from the top of Mount Pilatus were absolutely spectacular! The lakes, the mountains, the little towns nestled in the mountains or beside the lake. It was all so picture perfect. When I was cruising around Lake Lucerne I was quite annoyed that it wasn’t a perfectly sunny day, but up on the mountain, I was glad that the sun was attempting to make an appearance because it added to the dynamic scenery of Luzern and the beauty of the vista. I think that if I was in heaven I would spend my time looking down on Switzerland.

Photos: Mt Pilatus

rachthe1st — Sat, 3 Dec 2011 11:06:00 GMT

Pictureque Perfection!

Photos: Luzerne and it's Lake

rachthe1st — Fri, 2 Dec 2011 12:18:00 GMT

Photos: Lake Lugano and Flulen

rachthe1st — Fri, 2 Dec 2011 11:16:00 GMT

Week 34: Venice and Verona

rachthe1st — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 12:47:00 GMT

Ah fair Verona where Shakespeare doth set his most belov’d of plays! I personally don’t understand why any story where the hero and the heroine die is considered a romantic story (more like a tragedy in my opinion) but romantic would be the word I’d use to describe the town. Its cobblestone streets, its ivy covered balconies, its piazza full of stalls, fountains and statues, it’s random Roman ruins being excavated at the typical Italian work rate, and of course for the tourists, a courtyard made famous as being Juliet’s balcony.

I don’t know if anyone’s heard of or seen that tweeny bopper film called Letters to Juliet, where people (mainly females I’m guessing) leave letters in the walls below the balcony to Juliet and she (or her little minions) answer them. It’s a bit like Santa for grow ups - “Yes sweetheart of course Juliet is real and of course she’ll give you the perfect solution you want for your dilemma”. If you’re hoping to see letters in the walls and read some tragic love stories, you’ll be disappointed. Not only is there a security guard watching everyone, but I’m sorry to disappoint you but there’s no such thing as writing letters to Juliet. (Takes deep breathes and call the children’s helpline, the newspaper has just informed me that they’re equipped to answer such questions.)

After wandering around in narrow streets only bumping into impeccably dressed Italians (is there any other way to describe the way Italians dress?) I realised that although Verona was quite a small town I did not bump into my fellow tourists until it was time to hop on the bus. Then it occurred to me that I hadn’t bumped into any of them during any of the free time we had at any of our previous stops. It turned out that on this occasion that many of them had taken shelter from the rain to sample the local coffee, because that’s something that must be done in Italy. While others had come back with bags full of presents, just like Santa except none of the presents were for me :(

The same thing happened in Venice people seemed to spend their whole time shopping and eating. I had a feeling that in this case it could have been because they were afraid to get lost amongst all the windy narrow street of this fish-shaped city – it is literally shaped like a fish!! I threw caution to the wind and with my less than trusty map (shaped like a fish!!) I decided to wander around and get lost in Venice.

Venice really is amazing! Not just the possibility that you may turn the corner and fall into a canal, but extremely narrow streets that are no more than two meters wide in some cases, the number of shops, especially selling masks - I’d love to come during Masquerade and get even more disorientated, and the number of bridges over canals (mental note: never come to Venice with children of pram age or with people in wheelchairs – Venice is really not disability friendly), not to mention Gondolas and churches that are the size of several blocks of houses. And all this built on top of sand and water. Wow!

I did of course go on the quintessential gondola ride being serenaded by an Italian singer – if only this site had video upload because it’s was definitely a memorable experience gliding on gondolas through Venetian canals with the voice of an Italian singer echoing off the walls. And I also saw a quick demonstration of glass blowing, which is really quite impressive if not dangerous.

And like my fellow tourists I did succumb to souvenier shopping at a tiny shop down some narrow winding two-meter wide street which, although given my reasonably good sense of direction, would not be able to find again. But then I would need to because there were such a huge range of shops down many narrow winding streets that you really are spoilt for choice.

Photos: Venice

rachthe1st — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 12:01:00 GMT

Photos: Northern Italy and Verona

rachthe1st — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 21:36:00 GMT

Week 34: Overnight in Austria

rachthe1st — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 14:48:00 GMT

Somewhere between Southern Germany and Northern Austria is my favourite part of the world. I have yet to find the exact place and I look forward to discovering it one day. After all my moping around London for the previous month, I think it was worth it coming to this part of the world again. Now I’ll just have to visit this area in winter and learn how to ski and snowboard properly because they seem to have amazing, if not scary, ski runs everywhere.

So I was only in Austria for one night – the joys of a coach trip – which was probably longer than the eight hours on my previous visit. Again I can’t comment all that much on the place, except the scenery from the coach windows looked amazing and Innsbruck is quite a quaint little town.

The memory that will stand out for me is that after then 40mins free time we had to explore Innsbruck during the evening (don’t ever do a coach trip in Europe when it’s not daylight savings otherwise you’ll end up seeing everything under artificial light), we lost two old ladies. It’s interesting because the main square is really quite small and the majority of the people that were there were tour groups coming for a gander at the golden balcony. So between tour groups it’s really quite empty at that time of the evening and it’s a wonder that the two ladies simply vanished.

Personally, and automatically I blamed the tour guide because she had almost left me behind in Rothenburg (not that I would’ve particularly minded) and it was lucky that I remembered the way back to the bus that I was able to catch up with everyone again. Otherwise I have no doubt that they would have left without me. One person can be easily overlooked through a miscount, but two people, well that’s a bit harder. In either case, the tour guide after an attempted search did leave the old ladies behind and took the rest of us to the hotel.

Mainly because I felt sorry for the girl whose mother had been left behind (after having elderly relatives and the fear of them getting lost,) and partially because I almost got left behind the day before, I went back with the girl from my tour to look for the ladies. Thankfully we found our missing travelling companions quite quickly. Like children they had been distracted by the novelty of the Austrian equivalent of hot dog stand and so stopped following everyone else. Once they realised they had been left behind they wandered around the tiny square before getting tired going back to where they started which is where we found then. While this was thankfully a happy ending, it also brought home the reality of role reversals of the parent and the child and the time in life when we start having to worry about our parents as much as they worry about us. I wonder if society will ever get to the stage where they’ll use leashes for elderly people with Alzheimer’s like the leashes they have for children. If they do, I know the world will have gone mad.

Again, Austria is gorgeous with quaint little towns like Innsbruck and Salzburg. The next time I visit I'll have to stay more than 24 hours to fully appreciate this adorable country.

Photos: The Tyrolean Alps and Innsbruck

rachthe1st — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 09:10:00 GMT

Week 34: The Rhine River, the Romantic Road and Rothenberg

rachthe1st — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 20:52:00 GMT

Germany is beautiful in autumn. I know I said London was beautiful in autumn but so is Germany. Any country with deciduous trees is beautiful in autumn. And really the countryside needed to beautiful otherwise I would have gone mad as we spent most of the time in the coach throughout Germany. Seriously on the second day we only spent an hour and a half out of the coach and that was on the Rhine River cruise (ignoring stopping for lunch). Our poor bus driver Bernard must have been exhausted from all that concentration.

I went on an ocean cruise last year and I prefer them to river cruises. I don’t know if it was because it was a cold grey day, but I just didn’t enjoy the boat ride down the Rhine. Maybe if I had been below deck away from the wind instead standing on the highest part of the deck where it was the windiest, or maybe if I had sat down instead of standing up for the whole journey, or maybe if I had worn warmer clothing or maybe it was because the scenery was just so repetitive...

‘Oh there’s a cute little village with a castle on top of a nearby mountain!!!
Oh there’s another cute village with a castle on top of a nearby mountain!
Oh, there’s another cute village with a castle on top of a nearby mountain.
Oh there’s . . . . I wonder when this boat ride will end, my face is frozen.’

The Romantic Road is a road through Bavaria. I suppose romantic would be the term used to describe the scenery that one observes whilst travelling down the road, as opposed to the road itself, which I’m assuming is meant to have green hills and cute fairytale like villages. However the day that we were travelling down this road it was unbelievably foggy so the most that you could see were the headlights of the cars from the other direction. At least it gave us weary travellers time to catch 40 winks after the previous exhausting day of resting our posteriors for a prolonged period of time on the coach.

The title to my journal entry when I was last in Bavaria mentioned fairytale castles. Well on this second visit I went to fairytale town. Now the pictures aren’t as picturesque (...) as they would have been in summer, but just being in Rothenberg by the Tauber River with its castle walls, towers, cobblestone streets and triangular roofed houses was like being in another world. The rest of the world must have thought so too because after it was bombed in WW2 by the English, donations supposedly came from all over the world to pay for the reconstruction.

To add to the romantic atmosphere there were hallowed out pumpkins all around the town (probably to mark Halloween) and this little town is meant to be one of the places where the Christmas markets are held every year. I’d love to see the town covered in snow and then go and roast some chestnuts on an open fire.

Although we didn’t have the best weather whilst I was in Germany, the countryside we passed by and the few places we stopped at were from the pages of fairytales.

Photos: Rothenburg ob der Tauber

rachthe1st — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 09:25:00 GMT

If I lived in a fairytale I'd live here :)

Photos: The Romantic Road and the Mosel River

rachthe1st — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 05:56:00 GMT