Bogotá Diaries

“Be Safe!”, “Watch out for the Militia!”, “Stay clear of the Cartels!”, “Go easy on the Cocaine!”, “Better not get kidnapped!!” Just some of the reactions I got when I told people I was headed to Colombia!

It’s interesting – and sort of funny – the kind of pre-conceived notions people have about places. Going by all that it was built up to be, I have to say I was a little disappointed – all I got was a single instance of a totally lame peddler trying half heartedly to palm off some hashish to me!

The first thing that hits you – and quite literally at that – is the rare and cool mountain air! Bogotá sits 8661 ft (2640 mtrs) above sea level, making it the 3rd highest capital city in the world (the top 2 also happen to be in S.America)! So my gallant stride up several flights of stairs was quickly reduced to a slow crawl by the time I reached my friend’s 4th floor apartment!

Within 12 hours of having arrived there, my nasal passage was clear again and the cold symptoms I had – a distant New York memory! It’s not that the city is completely devoid of pollution – far from it in fact – just that being in the mountains definitely helps! Not only does the city enjoy the benefits of elevation but also a beautiful natural setting – surrounded as it is by the Andean Mountains, some of them over 10000 ft in height.

The weather is perfect to – never too cold or too hot – and it remains so throughout the year! You’re unlikely to find a heater, air conditioner or even a fan in anyone’s house! Great savings right there!! Being high up in the mountains also means constantly changing light conditions – plenty of variety for a day and always a photographer’s delight

Canada, Part Deux

So my much anticipated train journey on the ‘Adirondack‘ never quite materialised. Reason – track work! Catch them getting away with that excuse in India!

Instead I had to resort to my least favoured mode of long distance transport – Greyhound! It’s a different story altogether on how I literally and figuratively almost missed the bus!

Montréal – 1

Despite everything I had heard about Montréal, it still managed to throw me off a bit and was all very confusing to begin with. French speakers, street signs in French, hoardings in French, subway announcements in French (only!) – more French, visually and aurally, than your likely to encounter on a first visit to Paris!

Even thoroughbred North American brands aren’t spared..

The reasons are plenty – historical, political and possibly even geographical! Whatever they may be, it definitely distinguishes the city (and the Province of Quebec) as the most culturally unique part of North America. Not a bad thing at all, as I was to discover during the course of my visit

The Iron Horse in Dutch Country, and then some pedaling..

Q. How do you fit 2 bicycles, 2 adults and their luggage into a tiny rental sedan?

A. Make sure one of them is a folding bike; hope and pray there’s a bike shop close on hand that can help detach the front wheel from the other bike; fold down the rear seats and begin workout! Repeat process four times over and you’ve successfully completed a two day road trip from the city!

Less than a 3 hr drive from NYC is Pennsylvania’s Dutch Country. The term ‘Dutch’ has almost nothing to do with Amsterdam – instead, it refers to 17th and 18th century immigrants to the area, who were German (Deutsch) speaking by origin. The language spoken by inhabitants of Dutch Country today is known as Deitsch, a dialect of West Central German, spoken only in North America!

Pennsylvania Dutch Country is, no doubt, a unique part of the United States – not just different in name or language spoken – but different in every possible way – and as soon as you enter it, there are signs to prove it!

Stumptown

There are three kinds of responses you get when you tell someone your headed to Portland. The confused one: ‘Portland, in Maine?’; the dismissive one: ‘Why Portland? Never heard of anyone who goes there’; and finally the favourable one: ‘Oh, Portland – great city, you’ll love it’. I had a good enough hunch about the place to begin with, and, thanks in no small measure to the NY Times, there were New Yorkers a plenty who gave me a thumbs up for my decision to head ‘all the way west’.

Admittedly, and for the uninitiated, Portland (in the state of Oregon!) is best known for being home to two of the most popular brands in the world – Nike and Intel! The Intel part of my trip was somewhat taken care of by hanging out with a friend who works with them, while the Nike part involved an actual visit to their campus in Beaverton – first stop on day 1!

Needless to say, the campus was everything I could have imagined and more – the kind that makes you instantly want to be employed by them! A sprawling campus – 200 beautifully landscaped acres of it no less – including a man made lake, a protected wetland and a running trail that encircles it all. 17 well designed buildings – each named after a Nike athlete – dot the lush campus and include 2 state of the art (hate that term!) recreational centres, one of which – aptly, the Lance Armstrong centre – I swam in!

Tee Dot

They say that grass is always greener on the other side. Earlier this month, I set out to find out exactly how. The other side being Canada (since Swine Flu had ruled out Mexico!) and the city visited – Toronto – in the state of Ontario, abbreviated as T.O., and referred to locally by a much cooler name – the Tee Dot!

The French influence, I’m told, wears thin as you drive away from the state of Quebec but that didn’t seem to deter Toronto’s Pearson International Airport from having signs in French! That’s probably the first thing that hits you as you step of the plane. The second, and more impressive thing, is a snag free passage through immigration. There are no separate lines for Canadians – therefore your not likely to find signs marked ‘aliens’; the wait time is minimal; you’re greeted with a smile; the questions asked are not in the least bit offensive and before you know it your already at Baggage Claim!!

They also say that comparisons are odious and I couldn’t agree more. Prior to my departure for Canada, a handful of sources insisted that Toronto was nothing but ‘a smaller version of NYC’ or worse still, ‘a poor wannabe cousin of the Big Apple’. Trying to keep these biases at bay, I decided that a weekend in the Tee Dot should be enough for me to arrive at my own verdict.

First stop on a heavily overcast Saturday morning was St.Lawrence Market, where we managed to duck for cover seconds before a Bombay style rain shower pelted the street outside!

A mid 19th century building which once housed the City Hall and Jail House, St.Lawrence Market is today home to over 100 vendors spread across 2 levels, specialising in everything from fine cheeses to exotic meats, from coffee beans sourced across the globe to varieties of mustard that you never even dreamt of!!!

Journaux Parisiens

“Parlez-vous anglais?” “Little” came the reply. “How much time for the next train?”, I asked. “20 to 40 minutes”, he said. The location: Aulnay-sous-Bois, a suburb in northeast Paris. No good reason to be there except that we had just been offloaded from our train and would now have to wait another 40 minutes for the next one to take us on to Gare du Nord in downtown Paris. I was tired, sleep deprived and irritable from my overnight flight, struggling with the few words of French that I knew, and frustrated that I was losing precious time in transit, on a trip that was short to begin with!

An hour or so later, I had checked in, showered and made my way to the deck of my hostel, which was by the Canal Saint-Martin – made famous in the film, Amélie. It was a glorious day outside, with the temperature flirting with the 20s (of the Celsius variety) – ‘tee-shirt weather’ as I like to call it! As I sipped on my Cafe Creme and awaited a Croque Madame, I watched as the 19th century lift bridge was raised, to allow a canal boat to pass, ever so often. Aulnay-sous-Bois suddenly seemed like a very distant dream. It was time to pinch myself awake – I was finally in Paris

SoBe it!

When people talk about holidaying in Miami, chances are, they are most likely referring to Miami Beach. In fact, Miami and Miami Beach are two separate cities! Probably a good thing cause not only are they separated physically (by the Bay of Biscayne) but also culturally, socially, emotionally and economically!

In many ways, Miami Beach is far removed from reality – not just the reality of it’s namesake – and dull – city on the mainland, but from the very reality of living a routine, week in and week out! It is the perfect getaway, the ultimate unwind destination. One could quite easily say the same about Vegas, but Miami has what Vegas doesn’t – the magic of the ocean

Derawal by nature – the third installment!

For the uninitiated, ‘Derawals’ refer to a community of people who originated from the Dera Ghazi Khan and Dera Ismail Khan region of present day Pakistan. During partition in ‘47, the Hindu and Sikh Derawals migrated to India while the Muslim Derawals stayed on in Pakistan. Derawals speak a dialect of Seraiki called Derawali, which comes loaded with a healthy complement of choice cuss words. Other than their unique language, they are also revered for their exceptionally good taste in food, their exotic recipes (which are rarely shared with others) and easily the best ‘achaars’ (pickles) anywhere in the world. More than anything else, they know how to have a good time, especially when in large groups – like the one we found ourselves in, at the end of December last year.

Welcome to our 3rd annual Derawal family reunion!!

The Shekhawati region of northeast Rajasthan derives its name from the 15th century Rajput chieftain, Rao Shekha. Today, it comprises the districts of Sikar and the melodious sounding Jhunjhunu. Within Jhunjhunu sits the town of Surajgarh, which was originally the ‘Thikana’ (estate) of Thakur Bhojraj Ji. The Thikana was established in the late 18th century and a fortified palace was built for the good Thakur’s use.

Surajgarh literally means ‘castle of the sun’ and with the Thakur long gone, that very castle has since been transformed into a heritage hotel, where we stayed!

36 hrs in Buenos Aires

Happy 2009 everyone! That said, be warned that my first – and second – blogs of the year will date back to the last month of ‘08.

I’m going to leave aside the why’s, the how’s, the what’s and other such logistical intricacies for now, instead just cut to the chase – after all 36 hours ain’t a lot of time

11:20 AM – Arrival at Ezeiza or EZE in IATA parlance. The terminal I arrive at isn’t the most impressive I’ve seen, but 36 hrs later, I fly out of another, which is, in fact, quite plush.

Clear blue skies, some brilliant sunshine and temperatures in the early to mid 20s (~80F) await me outside the terminal building, and what’s more, being summer in the southern hemisphere, I will have daylight all the way till 9:30 PM!! A warm welcome, if you will, on my first visit to South America.

MTL or ‘Manuel Tienda Leon’ offers frequent shuttle buses from EZE to the city centre for 40 Pesos (3.5 Pesos to the Dollar). Argentina’s highway infrastructure is at par with the best in the world – traffic glides along effortlessly, not everyone sticks to their lanes admittedly, but at least no one honks and there’s certainly no aggression on the roads.

1 PM – I reach MTL’s terminal in downtown Buenos Aires and get my first glimpse of the magnificent Estacion Retiro or Retiro train station – one of Argentina’s busiest rail terminals and a city landmark in itself.

A quick ride on the ‘Subte‘ or subway and we are in Belgrano – one of the northern ‘Barrios’ or neighbourhoods of the city. I drop of my stuff at the hotel, shower and then head to the local cafe for a snack of coffee, cookies (which come gratis with it) and some assorted but very delicious ‘Empanadas’ – the sweet corn one easily scoring over the rest!

EZ in the Big Easy

The first thing you notice on arrival at the airport are signs in French – along with English and Spanish of course! Other than that, the airport is all but dead and doesn’t quite live up to the reputation of the man it is named after – the Reverend Satchmo!

Probably your best introduction to the city of New Orleans, Louisiana or NOLA for short, is to hit its most famous Bourbon St as soon as you get there. And once you’ve done so, you’ll probably have little reason to return there, save for the cheap alcohol and a never ending selection of strip clubs – if that’s your kind of thing!

Bourbon St is to New Orleans what Times Sq is to the Big Apple – the same amount of neon and tourists, minus the skyscrapers. What sets Bourbon St apart though is not just the availability of cheap alcohol but also the fact that it is perfectly alright to drink out in the street – a pleasant change when you’re coming from over regulated NYC!

Pat O’Brien’s on Bourbon, an old pub with a lively courtyard, is credited with the ‘Hurricane’ – one of two trademark drinks from this city. The other being the ‘Hand Grenade’, which, from experience, I would not recommend to anyone looking for a long night of drinking! End with it, if you must, but don’t make the mistake of starting with one!

Far from the madding crowd and a better place to watch them from are one of many balconies that are typical of this street and the neighbourhood it sits in. A lot of these belong to eating & drinking establishments, situated below in the same building, and others to home owners. Either way, they’re almost all available for rent during Mardi Gras!

Bourbon St is lined with scores of eateries, bars, karaoke rooms and jazz clubs – almost all of them catering to the white American tourist. If you must eat, drink or listen to music (the 3 things one does in NOLA) on Bourbon, then you really have to be selective about where you go. As far as eating goes, we lucked out with some fairly good ‘Jambalaya‘ at Remoulade which was to be our first meal in the city.