Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Dinant


We had hoped for a last little trip before the cold set in. Turned out that it had already set in! In temperatures below freezing, we paid a visit to Dinant, a cosy town in French-speaking Belgium.



The river Meuse runs North-South through the town. The eastern half presents a beautiful facade which includes a Gothic-style church and a fortified citadel on the hill above. The visit to the Citadel is quite interesting due to various reasons. From the top, the view of the town below is simply beautiful!


One also gets to hear interesting stories about the French and the Dutch crouching on either side of the river and hurling cannon balls at each other! It so happened that one of these canon balls landed into a part of the citadel and literally shook it up. And this presents the most interesting part of the visit (at least for me). There is a room which is entirely tilted at an angle. As I walked into the room, I found it quite hard to keep my balance as gravity and geometry were playing tug-of-war inside my brain. Then, I was asked to look at a pool of water which was placed at a corner of the room. Miraculously, as soon as I caught glimpse of the water, I was able to stand perfectly erect! Apparently, all our brain needs is a little reference plane!


My co-traveller, Krishnan, suggested that we visit the cave 'La Merveilleuse' up next. I didn't have my hopes high, for I imagined a cave to be just a hole in the rocks beneath the Earth's surface. But I was blown out of my mind once I stepped in! This was my first visit to a limestone cave! I had read about stalactites and stalagmites ten years ago in school. To actually see these beautiful structures which have grown gradually and gracefully over centuries was very humbling!

Every little town in the world has so much to say!

More photos from the trips : 
Dinant

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Biking across countries

Ghent is a beautiful little university town in Belgium. Having settled down here to start the next phase of my life (a Masters in Photonics, incidentally from the interview that happened during this post), all I could think of was how close Ghent was to the border between Belgium and Netherlands. "Can we really bike to another country?!" was the reaction from each of my newly made friends Imad, Esrom and Tanbir. "Yes! We're just 20 kms from the border!" was enough to get them excited for the trip.

Saturday was the day of choice for the ride as Sunday would be a convenient rest-day after the ride. Unfortunately, our Saturday turned out to be a wet one. Since it rains pretty much everyday in Belgium, we chose to go ahead nevertheless! We wanted to make sure our tyres had enough pressure before embarking on our journey. Ghent is very cycle-friendly and the corporation has placed bicycle pumps at different places in the town. Our bad luck continued as the pump closest to us was out of order. And being the weekend, pretty much every other option was closed. As we were randomly biking around looking for any clues, we came across an old gentleman working away in his workshop. Very eager to practise my Dutch, I went and asked him if he knew any bicycle pumps in the neighbourhood. Strangely enough the man spoke French, not Dutch. We resorted to the universal language of signs and it apparently worked. He had a pump in his own workshop and he generously filled up all our tyres. We thanked him with a Merci! and wide smiles and we set off!

We quickly got out of the city and we were racing down the John Kennedy laan towards Netherlands. After about 7 kms, Tanbir's cycle had a flat tyre. We had a quick meeting and decided it was best to  turn back. I must admit we were glad to return since the weather wasn't at all enjoyable. Our trip ended as quickly as it began. But the story doesn't end here!

Two Saturdays later we started off once again! But this time we were only three in number since Esrom had other things to do. This time we made sure that we were better planned. We had our bikes ready the day before and we also had a new destination - Terneuzen, because we wanted to get more out of our trip than just a visit to the border! Ternuezen is a town on the shore of the estuary of the river Schelde where it flows into the North Sea. The temperature was a perfect 17 degrees Celsius and the sun was up and shining brightly.


Cycling out from the medieval streets in Ghent into the industrial surroundings around the port of Ghent with smoke billowing from factories and busy trains shuttling goods, was a delightful little time travel! After around 10 kms though, we were bored by the monotonous surroundings and we decide to turn into the border village of Zelzate. The village bore a sleepy Saturday-morning look and everything was closed except a family-run Frituur (fries shop). After a delicious snack of Belgian fries, we raced off to the border.


With all three of us hailing from the Indian subcontinent, we weren't very happy calling this a border. The Schengen borders, or rather the non-existence of the borders was fascinating! All there was, was just a board saying 'Netherlands'. A quick photo shoot and then we crossed over to the other side of the border. The Dutch government thought bikers would not enjoy biking along a boring highway and made them meander through villages instead. And right they were! Through we were diverted away from our planned route, we quite enjoyed biking through the countryside. We biked through paved and unpaved roads, passing through pretty villages, greenhouses, green fields and of course windmills - lots of them, both traditional and modern. Since we didn't have a map of this new route, we carefully followed the road signs and reached Ternuezen safely around four o' clock in the afternoon. We grabbed some lunch and went to the sea front.


The sea front was beautiful with a cycling track right along the coastline. We had a happy picnic on green grass with a great view of the blue waters of the estuary and seagulls hovering around us. Taking advantage of the long hours of sunshine, we stayed back and enjoyed the sea breeze well past 6 pm.

On our way back, we were busy discussing our wonderful day and we didn't pay much attention to the road signs and got lost. With darkness approaching, we started to argue which was the shorter way to get back on track. Helpful locals guided us back to the border, and we had a feeling of being back home when we saw the board that said BelgiĆ«. The lights on the highway switched on suddenly as if welcoming us back home. As we rode back to Ghent, I noticed the Big Dipper in the sky. For the first time in my life, owing to the northerly latitude, I was actually seeing it as a dipper and not an inverted dipper that one would see from India.


The terrain is fairly flat in Northern Belgium and Netherlands, which makes even long rides fairly easy and non-tiring! After having pedalled almost 80 kms, we reached the familiar streets of Ghent and hi5ed ourselves goodbye for having cycled to the Netherlands!

More photos from the trips : 
Unsuccessful Bike Trip
Biking Trip to Terneuzen

Sunday, May 23, 2010

All the way to Kallabbe

You might have heard of the big fat Indian wedding. I've seen some fat and also some thin ones, but one aspect remains about the same in all weddings - the number of guests. It is a custom to invite everyone you know and everyone your guests know. (Most of the 'invitations', strictly speaking should be renamed to FYI - but that's another story) 

On 17th May, I received an invitation from my friend Vinay Hegde for his sister's wedding. I'm sure it was a sincere invitation, but I'm also sure Vinay would know, practically speaking, that, for most people on the mailing list, it was just an FYI. At first glance, it was for me too. But then, four things pushed me off my seat to actually set off on the journey - the venue of the wedding, my summer vacation, the idea of surprising Vinay, and of course, my wanderlust! 



The wedding was to take place on the 21st in Kumta, a town in North-western Karnataka, 800 kms from home, a region of India where I've never been to. Long, unplanned, sudden, exciting and a whole bunch of other adjectives kept popping up in my mind when I thought about the trip. I asked two of my friends (who I thought would most probably join me) for company. Ramya, whose hometown, Sagara, happens to be right along the route to Kumta, was busy, but she insisted that I halt at Sagara and meet her family. Akarsh, the astronomer, was enthusiastic, and he saw the possibility of combining this trip with an observation session near Kodachadri, a peak in the Western Ghats, west of Shimoga. 

After a long chat session on Google, a well-rounded plan was hatched. Wasting no time, I hopped on to a bus from Chennai to Bangalore on the night of the 19th. Next morning, I found my way to Akarsh's home in RT Nagar. The plan was to start off early from Bangalore. But knowing Akarsh, I should have  realised that I would be his wake up call! Akarsh's home was in an enviably quiet locality. After her morning meditation, Akarsh's mother cooked some delicious breakfast for us. We gobbled it up quite ungratefully and rushed off to load the telescope into the car. Yes! We were taking along Akarsh's gigantic 18 inch telescope and we had a car with a chauffeur waiting for us!    

We took the NH 4 out from Bangalore, and branched out onto NH 206 at Tumkur. NH 206 felt very cosy, with very less traffic. We coasted along the highway which felt more like a calm avenue, occasionally stopping for the mighty Indian Railway (photo). As planned, we reached Sagara in the evening, and were welcomed at Ramya's home. Her absence only added to the awkwardness of meeting her family for the first time. But that was very short lived as conversations began to flow. We were served delicious havyaka dinner. And to the understandable astonishment of Ramya's mother, we set off towards Kumta without a place to stay for the night. We drove a little further and parked beside a large open field near Talaguppa. We fell asleep quite comfortably in the car, but we set our alarms to wake us up every hour to see if the skies were clear. Unfortunately, the skies never cleared up.

We raced off to Kumta early in the morning, a distance of around 100 kms through the Western Ghats in 3 hours. We arrived just in time for the wedding, sneaked into the wedding hall and quietly took our seats. Vinay, being the bride's brother, was quite busy. We blended into the crowd and waited for him to notice us, when he did, the reaction was priceless! "Why did you guys come here!?", he said, not being able to control his laughter and excitement.

We got introduced to Vinay's family. Incidentally we came to know that one of our other friends, Prateek was related to Vinay and was also present at the wedding. We witnessed the wedding and had an amazing lunch. To get rid of that after-lunch yawn, we decided to explore the surroundings a bit. Though the temperature was not very hot, the laterite soil all around us gave us a feeling of standing in the middle of a red hot pan, and spotting dry carcasses of frogs didn't help either. The terrain was hilly with houses snuggled inside dense canopies of coconut trees.

Akarsh wasn't in a great mood, mainly because of the cloudy skies, and he wanted to head back home. But Vinay and Prateek persuaded me to stay back for the night. So, after waving goodbye to Akarsh and the car, I became a part of the wedding family and all of us went home! The ride along the Muroor Ghat road  to the home town, Kallabbe, was a little bumpy, but very scenic! When we reached Kallabbe, I was surprised by the compactness of the village. It seemed like the whole village was just a collection of around ten buildings, one of which was a school, another, a temple and another a small shop. All the others were houses and the people living in them were not just neighbours but also relatives in most of the cases! I was reminded of all the stories I had heard from my grandparents about their native villages!

Leaving the newly-wed and their family alone to do their rituals at home, Prateek's cousin Pramod offered to take Prateek and I on a guided tour around Kallabbe. We got some cola from the shop and started walking towards a hill. Prateek had brought along some heavenly delicious raw mango pieces sprinkled with salt and chilli powder! I gobbled up an unfair share of mangoes, which I tried to compensate by plucking berries for the other two along the way.  We quickly climbed onto the hill, though this was my first climb in more than two years! We sat on the black rocks on the other side of the hill taking in the view of the meanders of the river Aghanashini as it flowed west into the Arabian Sea. Also my mobile phone sprung into action taking help from the altitude (there was barely any network signal in Kallabbe). I used the opportunity to inform my parents I was safe and to update my facebook status :P It was getting dark, and we left for home with mixed feelings, not wanting to leave the hill but looking forward to good food! This was the first time I had dinner at someone else's family home and with so many family members together, but never during my stay did I feel like an outsider! And of course, my broken kannada which I used to bond with the elders of the family was of great help!

The highlight of the trip, surpassing the raw mangoes, was the next morning's breakfast! Jackfruit idly served with unprocessed liquid jaggery! I really didn't want to leave now, but I had to be home for a family function in Chennai the next day. I got a ride from Pramod's father on his M-80 to the nearest bus stop, Basavanakere, on State Highway 48. I boarded a bus to Sagara, and the trip was complete with another visit to Ramya's home, this time with her presence! On the buses back to Bangalore and finally back to Chennai, all I could dream about was the jackfruit idly with liquid jaggery!


More photos from the trips : 
Karnataka Trip, May 2010