After three nights in Banff we travelled by bus to Jasper; a small residential town further north. Fortunately the weather has improved and we visited several lakes this morning. On the way back to our hotel we saw a Black Bear munching at his patch of dandelions.
After a 10 hour flight from Heathrow to Calgary, we signed in to our hotel, Caribou Lodge, Banff. A fifteen minute walk to town on the first afternoon helped to stretch the legs.
On our first full day we travelled to Lake Louise, still frozen, even though it’s the end of May.
Lake Moraine also proved a to be a picturesque location.
Booking our flight from Bristol to Pula during the Easy Jet sake was carried out in January, five months in advance of our trip. The flight times both ways were ideal, far better than most package holiday flights.
Pula airport is small compared to many but exceptionally efficient. Once through security and having collected our one case we were greeted by our taxi driver booked in advance who charged us 20€ to take us to our apartment in Pula. Our accommodation The Captain Emo Apartment is no more than 200m from the city’s coliseum and a short walk to the centre. It is spotlessly clean and I would no hesitation in recommending this as a place to stay and relax. The Coliseum, the sixth largest has a gory history in which battles to the death were carried out by gladiators and wild animals in front of baying crowds of as many as twenty-three thousand spectators. One can’t imagine the fear each gladiator must have had facing an opponent who had to display an equal amount of aggression as the only chance of survival.
We discovered on our first day that many restaurants do not accept card payments so extra cash had to be obtained from the cash point machines. A point worth considering before attempting to eat! Prices here in Croatia are marginally cheaper than the UK but one will not be harassed to buy goods by unwelcome street touts.
Our first day provided us with wall to wall blue skies and sunshine in which we wandered about the town taking in a baker’s shop to provide us with a lunch and shelter from the hot weather for a few hours. In the evening we travelled by boat around the archipelago of islands off the southern coast of Istria. Pula harbour itself is home to a shipbuilding industry that overlooks the sheltered estuary guarded by cranes and large towers straight out of a gigantic Meccano set. The islands are all part of a national park covered in woodlands and no doubt home to a variety of animals who roam freely. There are no perilous cliffs evident as those we see in Northern Europe but tides here are not as fierce as the Atlantic. Our promised meal consisted of either a burger and salad or mackerel and salad; this was accompanied by liquid refreshments of orange juice or water or white wine (not chilled) which only improved in taste directly proportional to the amount drunk. Dolphins skimmed the surface of the sea and passengers’ attempts to dispose of the remains of their meals overboard only attracted numerous annoying seagulls. Most passengers found this exceptionally entertaining but as one who was brought up by the sea, I began to wonder if a foolish gull would land on someone’s plate. Once we’d returned to port the short walk back to our apartment was a welcome exercise before enjoying a nightcap.
The dramatic beginning to our second day was a thunderstorm with sheet lightning illuminating the sky at frequent regular intervals as boulders were rolled across the heavens echoing around the town. Occasionally the sky was split in two as torrential rain flooded the streets only to wash away as soon as the storm was over. This had freshened the air and we took our opportunity to visit some of the landmarks namely the Amphitheatre where we were guided around the site to learn details of man’s inhumanity. Although the technology used by these giants of design impress us, their empathy towards others appears to have been non-existent. The area surrounding the hilltop castle built during its occupation by the Venetian Empire provided us with a panoramic view of the town. To the north of the town lies the railway station above which one can see hotels, designs of which date back to Croatia’s rule under the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
At night the restaurants come to life and we visited the town’s most famous Pizzeria, The Jupiter. As we sat here another storm erupted, sending rainfall to cascade over the edges of the canopy that protected us from the elements. The medium sized pizzas here are enormous and would feed two. What I do like is the complimentary glass of grappa served at the end of the meal.
The following morning we took the service bus to Rovinj, some 30 km up the Istrian coast. These efficient buses leave on time on a fairly regular basis and within forty minutes we’d reached our destination. A short taxi ride later we were able to leave our luggage at the Villa Dobravac as our room wasn’t ready; in fairness, we’d arrived at 10:30 am. The town has an attractive vista sitting on the edge of the Adriatic dominated by the old part situated on a promontory with cobbled streets that wind their way up to the church of St Euphemia. Looming over the church is a bell tower that resembles the tower of St Mark’s in Venice. On top of this is a statue of St Euphemia which served as a weather vane but is now immobile.
St Euphemia was a Christian martyr, arrested for not offering sacrifices to the god Ares, or Mars in Roman mythology, during the reign of Diocletian. His persecution of Christians was the last and most severe in the Roman Empire. The traditional tale describing how the tomb of St Euphemia arrived at Rovinj is as follows. During the iconoclast movement in Byzantium in the first millennia Christian worshipers, eager to preserve Euphemia’s tomb removed it from its first resting place in Constantinople and placed it on a ship to sail to the west. It came aground at the entrance to the port of Rovinj and due to its weight could not be moved until a boy, his two cows and divine intervention dragged the sarcophagus to the top of the town. The present church in which the tomb can be found was built in the eighteenth century.
Our hotel sits on the brow of a hill overlooking the town, a twenty-minute walk away. Natalina our host guided us to our room on our return and we were able to unpack our cases as our stay here was for seven days. Several restaurants were recommended and on our first evening, we ate at Restaurant Bošket, a few minutes’ walk from our hotel. Upon the advice of the waitress, we ordered a fish platter and vegetables. The fish arrived on a large plate containing the most wonderful selection of sea creatures of which the most succulent was the dorado or sea bream. This was accompanied by octopus, cuttlefish, squid and an array of shellfish, shrimps and prawns. Full and satisfied, we returned to our hotel for the night. We ate out every evening and were served well each time. The meal we ate at the Puntulino Restaurant on the edge of the old town overlooking the bay was an especially enjoyable one.
A short distance across the bay lies the island of St Katarina’s which we visited twice. It is the ideal location on which to escape for several hours which houses its own hotel of the same name. Here can be found a couple of man-made beaches from which we swam in the glorious Adriatic. Sun loungers are placed in various locations and for the time we spent lying on them no-one bothered us for payment. Seagulls gather round to look for a mixed diet but these do not appear as aggressive as most we’ve encountered. A possible reason may be there are no other predators on the island. St Katarina is well preserved and its multitude of trees, mainly conifer, grow in abundance providing ample shelter.
Rovinj has a plethora of restaurants situated along its many streets and sea-front overlooking the harbour to the south of the old town, all providing excellent meals. Bars selling cocktails can be found here as well and indulgence in these provided a delightful distraction on more than one occasion. Wandering about the town one can find artisan styled shops and apartments all wonderfully cared for to attract the growing number of tourists. Here, one will not find any Western European chain of shops which is a relief. Independent shops selling anything from baby clothes to truffle oils can be found are plentiful, as are shoe shops. Oils and lavender potpourris are also sold in the open air marketplace. Croatian, the native tongue, can be heard alongside Italian, the second official language of the area. German is also widely heard as the area attracts many Austrian as well as German tourists.
A water taxi transports bathers to Amarin, a purpose-built beach, but as the day on which we visited was windy swimming was not a good choice of activities due to the rough sea. Clambering over submerged rocks to reach a suitable depth proved hazardous. On the harbour one can purchase a variety of sea trips; one we joined took us to the Lim Fjord, an inland stretch of the sea a distance of 13 km.
After an enjoyable week in Rovinj, we took a taxi to our next destination Poreč via the Istrian interior. Our driver Ivona was eager to tell us about her homeland and informed us a variety of facts ranging from the soils found in the area to its history. The scenery can only be described as a Croatian version of Tuscany. We visited two hilltop villages, Motovun and Grožjan, both of which were spectacular with views across their walls to match. The first was a walled town of cobbled streets, small shops, bars and a hotel and the second was a town providing a home for artists and musicians during Tito’s reign.
Once we’d arrived in Poreč and said our farewells to Ivona at the Valamar Rubin Hotel. The complex of Valamar hotels (Rubin, Crystal and Diamant) lie a twenty-minute walk through woodlands to the south of the city and is an ideal centre for tourism. Its multiple play areas with cycling, jet-skiing and swimming, to name but a few activities, are a magnet for visitors from a variety of nations.
Like most beaches in Croatia access to the sea over rocks is for the fit and healthy, however, a slipway and series of ladders provide gentler methods of entry to the Adriatic where the swimming is a refreshing interlude from lying in the hot sunshine. A leisurely walk along a coast path in the shade of trees is a pleasant approach to the port and the old town. This again contains shops, bars and small hotels much the same as Rovinj but at the northern end of the promontory, one will find the Basilica. An earlier basilica dating back to the fourth century was dedicated to St Maurus but the present one is dedicated to Mary and was built in the sixth century.
This region of Croatia has been the strategic part of several empires for over two thousand years. Much evidence of Roman presence can be found especially the amphitheatre at Pula. Although it had its own identity it paid homage to the Habsburg Empire of Austria/Hungary for protection against the Ottoman expansion through Europe. Istria was also governed by the Venetian empire from the fifteenth to the eighteenth century. Both the Austrian/Hungarian and the Ottoman Empires ceased to exist after WW1 and the region became part of a greater Yugoslavia until 1941 when it was annexed by Nazi Germany. Once WW2 finished it resumed membership of Yugoslavia and a violent purge was carried out on the Nazi collaborators. With the fall of the Soviet block and removal of the ‘Iron Curtain’ took place both Croatia and its neighbouring Slovenia declared independence. The country is now an integral part of the EU although it is not in the Schengen group of countries, neither has it adopted the Euro yet.
Booking our flight from Bristol to Pula during the Easy Jet sake was carried out in January, five months in advance of our trip. The flight times both ways were ideal, far better than most package holiday flights.
Pula airport is small compared to many but exceptionally efficient. Once through security and having collected our one case we were greeted by our taxi driver booked in advance who charged us 20€ to take us to our apartment in Pula. Our accommodation The Captain Emo Apartment is no more than 200m from the city’s coliseum and a short walk to the centre. It is spotlessly clean and I would no hesitation recommending this as a place to stay and relax. The coliseum, the sixth largest has a gory history in which battles to the death were carried out by gladiators and wild animals in front of baying crowds of as many as twenty three thousand spectators. One can’t imagine the fear each gladiator must have had facing but one will not be harassed to buy goods by unwelcome street touts.
Our first day provided us with wall to wall blue skies and sunshine. In the evening we travelled by boat around the archipelago of islands off the southern coast of Istria. Pula harbour itself is home to a shipbuilding industry that overlooks the sheltered estuary guarded by cranes and large towers straight out of a gigantic Meccano set. The islands are all part of a national park covered in woodlands and no doubt home to a variety of animals who roam freely. There are no perilous cliffs evident as those we see in Northern Europe but tides here are not as fierce as the Atlantic. Our promised meal consisted of either a burger and salad or mackerel and salad; this was accompanied by liquid refreshments of orange juice or water or white wine (not chilled) which only improved in taste directly proportional to the amount drunk. Dolphins skimmed the surface of the sea and passengers attempts to dispose of the remains of their meals overboard only attracted numerous annoying seagulls. Most passengers found this exceptionally entertaining but as one who was brought up by the sea I began to wonder if a foolish gull would land on someone’s plate.
Northern India Autumn 2017.
After a seamless train journey to Reading and on to Heathrow by bus we were welcomed by Terminal three’s Virgin Atlantic check in desk. Here we deposited our luggage before entering the crowded departure lounge. As we were early we had four hours to wait before boarding the 787. Slightly cramped we took off on the 8 hour journey and landed just before 11 the next morning (Delhi time). Immigration took a long time before we changed some money at 79 rupees per pound; a dramatic drop since our last visit to India. Our collection transport hadn’t turned up so we took a taxi to our hotel, The Piccadilly. After a shower a rest was taken. We’re here!
After a good rest we surfaced and explored the hotel. There is the pool area, so a swim will take place tomorrow. An enormous buzzard (could be an eagle) was flying around earlier. The food in the hotel is excellent; vegetarian biryani for Jen & black lentils and steamed rice for me.
Fortunately there is a Metro station within a five minute walk from the hotel. The train from Janak Puri West took us to the centre of the city, a half hour journey. As we were travelling a young man informed us our Connaught Place station was called Ranakchowk. Here we got off and took a Tuk Tuk around several places of interest. Humayun’s Tomb was the first, an elaborate series of buildings to revere one of India’s rulers. The history regarding this ruler states he was exiled to Persia for 15 years. On his return to Delhi he constructed several grand palaces one of which served as his library. However one night as he stood at the top of the steps observing Venus he tripped over his robes and plunged to his death. The moral to this story is: I’m sure you’ll be able to add one to this comment.
The next part of our tour through the noisy streets took us to the President’s palace, a large ornate building which can only be viewed from a distance. We followed this by passing the Parliament building, infinitely larger than Westminster Palace. India gate stands nearby, this large archway is a memorial to the men who fought in WW1
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Driving in India is not for the faint hearted. As you can see it takes a brave Welsh girl to drive a tuk tuk in Delhi.
We passed many temples on our way back to Ranakchowk station from where we returned via the Metro to the hotel.
At six we met all our fellow travellers and Raghu our tour guide (CEO). There were twenty four in all, from Australia, Canada, the USA and the UK. After we’d eaten our dinner we returned to our rooms for an early night in preparation for an early start the following morning.
With our planned early start we were ready having eaten breakfast by 7:30 to venture to Old Delhi. We were taken to meet a young man Gunaie, one of the fortunate youngsters to have benefited from the street kids project at the Saalam Baalak Centre. Street kids are children who have either run away or have been thrown out of their homes for a variety of reasons, mainly because families were unable to support them. Many become owned by ‘mafia’ styled gangs and pimps. Gunaie was one of these but through the help of the charity and sheer hard work, is now a spokesperson able to promote the work done to turn around the lives of these children. He speaks confidently to tourist groups brought the centre. G adventure promotes the work by matching all donations from tourists.
We were taken to a Muslim mosque and finally to a Sikh temple where all visitors were expected to wear a bandana to witness the acts of devotion. After wards we saw the kitchen where food was prepared for feeding the adherents and visitors to the temple. This is called ‘Lungar’. It is the Sikh custom to serve others and the best way is by feeding them. People sit in rows holding a plate onto which food such as dhal and flat bread is placed.
After walking back through what is the busiest street in Old Delhi we set off on the road to Agra, arriving after 6:30. Our rooms are comfortable and again another early start at 7:30 was planned, to see the Taj Mahal.
All along the streets we encountered cars, motor bikes, scooters and Tuk Tuks all sounding their horns to warn us of their presence. Cows can be seen everywhere. Driving in India is not for the faint hearted!!
Although the 7:30 start was planned to beat the crowds, the ground was being trodden upon by many feet. However it was worth the early visit as the sun shone down onto the front of the monument to highlight the building’s white marble splendour. It is the only building I’ve seen that lives up to its reputation as one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
The engineering skills defy belief considering it was built over 450 years ago. We are only standing on the shoulders of giants.
Afterwards, we drove through the heavy traffic to the Red Fort, an impressive red sandstone fortress which at the height of the Moghul empire contained two moats. The first filled with water and a number of crocodiles. If that wasn’t enough to deter would be invaders, inside the second, tigers roamed eager to satisfy their hunger. Needless to say no-one breached the defences successfully.
The final visit was to the Baby Taj, completed in white marble two years before the building of the Taj Mahal was begun
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Our evening excursion was to a restaurant where two musicians were playing. I ended up playing the sitar! It was a strange experience. The tabala player was the spitting image of Charlie Watts.
The following morning we set off for Jaipur visiting places of interest on the way.
The nine o’clock start took us away from the hustle of Agra, through traffic jams of vehicles of all description including livestock. The cattle wander aimlessly along the roads searching for food which they find with regularity because of the generosity of the people. Cattle are sacred here and are revered. Most have adopted wandering alongside traffic as opposed to against it. Eventually we left the city behind and reached Fathe Pur Sikari, one of the ancient capitals of the region.
It was here Akhbar III or The Great lived. The whole city was built from red limestone and covered a vast area. He had three wives, one Muslim, one Hindu and one Christian. He didn’t convert the Hindi or Christian wife to Islam but attempted to unify the three faiths. The new philosophy wasn’t continued after his death and one must wonder what type of world we would be living in today if he had been successful.
From this palace we drove on to Chandler Bapri Stepwell. Attempting to describe these steps and the architecture would require several photographs and pages of writing. The stepwell was built in the 9th. century. Our civilisation in western Europe was surviving in mud huts at this time!
Once we had left we set off for Jaipur, arriving at our hotel at 7:00, a heritage hotel with wonderful rooms.
The entertainment was provided by puppeteers, a charming family of father, the seventh in line in his family of puppeteers and his three sons.
Jaipur is known as the pink city, pink being the colour of welcome. The buildings in the old city have to be repainted pink every few years. The new part to the city does not have to conform. On this first morning here we visited the Amber City spanning a huge hill. It was a fortress surrounded by other mountains and this particular week was being used a set for a Bollywood film.
Jeeps carried us to the fort base from where we walked to the first courtyard. Here the film extras were gathered waiting patiently for directors to usher them into position. There are several courtyards inside the vast fort each one full with tourists and visitors.
After travelling back to the bus we reached the Water Palace. A grand palace, now a hotel built in the middle of a lake.
From here we drove to a restaurant for our lunch. The early part of the afternoon was spent at a textile shops where we attempted Block Printing before buying some goods. A well-earned rest before a cinematic treat was very welcome.
This was an experience not to be missed. The cinema was full and as soon as the lights dimmed the national anthem was played; everyone was expected to stand. The film began and the audience cheered whenever a top star appeared on the screen. Although there were no subtitles the storyline was relatively easy to follow with the odd English phrase thrown in. It was old fashion slapstick, escapism at its best.
After leaving the cinema a fleet of Tuk Tuks took us to a restaurant where the food was exceptionally tasty. A local dancer and her backing band entertained us afterwards and audience participation was encouraged. Jenny joined them to both dance and play the harmonium.
An 8:15 start the following morning took us to our next visit, the home of Ranje & Keran Singh. Ranje spoke to us about many Hindu philosophies, primarily relaxation. Afterwards we visited the Jaipur Royal Palace.
Each state has its own royal family but this more title than power. Royalty still retains a level of influence however but with the accent on benevolence. It does not have the power to officially endorse new laws. The Palace contains a textile museum with displays of past rulers’ costumes and paintings of past royal family members including the last Viceroy of India, Lord Mountbatten.
After passing the Palace of the Wind at which we failed to stop due to heavy traffic we finally left Jaipur and on to the small village of Sawarda to stay at the Sawarda Fort Hotel. After settling in to our rooms we were taken around the village where we met many local residents. People came out of their houses to greet us, children waved at us, all with welcoming smiles, proud of their community. A potter demonstrated how he made small oil lamps on the most basic of wheels.
We visited Hindu temple dedicated to Ganesh the elephant god located next to a Jain temple. We were also invited in to a classroom to witness teenagers being taught the physical elements of electrical circuitry.
Towards the end of the walk we were privileged to witness a wedding procession, passing first the bride’s house and finally the groom’s. This was a riotous affair with a land rover heading the procession playing music from a PA system any DJ would have been delighted to own. This was dancing at its best and most enthusiastic.
Drinks were served on the rooftop veranda prior to eating; there was even the mandatory gin and tonic for Jenny. Bed was a welcome distraction after a busy day.
We were up by 6:30 to see the dawn sun rising behind the hotel.
After breakfast we set off to Delhi stopping at two places for snacks and lunch, arriving in the Piccadilly at 4:00pm. A shower was very welcome.
We left our hotel at 4:30 am to take an early morning flight to Kolkata. Seats on the 737 were allocated at random but the two hour flight passed quickly; so quickly, tea could not be served. Fair play the pilot made the excuse there was too much turbulence to pour the beverages safely!
After arriving at our hotel we unpacked and walked along the busy streets to find a restaurant for our lunch. Street food was being served all along the route but we declined at this instance, wishing to sit away from the traffic. There is still a British influence here and we took a taxi to the Victoria Memorial building now a museum that highlights the British history in India having made Calcutta its capital.
We took a taxi back to the hotel and we were relieved to arrive. I can safely say (definitely not the correct adverb to use) the taxi driver was the maddest driver I’ve ever encountered. Kolkata’s drivers are crazy but he was the worst. We stayed in the hotel that night.
Leaving behind a fascinating week of travelling by bus to wondrous locations in North India, we travelled the short distance from our hotel the river Ganges, the Ganga as it called in West Bengal. Strictly speaking this part of the holy river is the Hooghly, a large tributary of the Ganges. After boarding the Veruna riverboat we were guided to our cabins, aesthetically charming and decorated throughout in wood.
We welcomed the opportunity to unpack our cases to rearrange our clothes and after an introductory meeting we set off up river at 10:00 a.m. The iconic cantilever bridge that connects the railway station to the rest of the city appeared in front of us. As we passed underneath we saw many pedestrians gazing down at us arms extending to wave us on our way.
We motored upriver and arrived at Barrakapore an hour and a half later. The tender took us ashore and we walked through the rural setting in which the town with a population of 40,000 is set. It is the home of a military base that covers a wide area and evidence of its presence is everywhere. We passed a school with the inspirational name to encourage aspiration ‘Future Laureate Academy’.
After returning to take lunch we were able to relax for an hour or so before visiting the town of Chandanagra.This area of West Bengal was heavily influenced by the French. We visited a Roman Catholic Church; also in this district there were Hindu and Muslim artefacts.
We returned to our ship to shower before dinner. As this region is in the same time zone as Delhi but six hundred miles east it becomes dark by 5:00 pm.
The following day we sailed upriver for Chinsura and after going ashore we were taken by cycle rickshaw to see the Dutch cemetery.
This covers a large area but its main features are the large obelisks to mark the graves of former inhabitants of European expansion in the area.
From there we cycled to Imambara, a Shia mosque in the process of renovation. Its immense courtyard can welcome over a thousand worshipers and extensive work is being carried out by the Indian Heritage Department. As this building is on the bank of the river, returning to our ship required a short walk to the tender to return us to our ship.
The remainder of the day was spent travelling upriver to Shantipur, a distance of 61 km. As we continued our journey we witnessed celebrations where people bathed en mass at the ghats by the side of the river. As the Hooghly river has a limited amount of traffic, scores of fishermen wait patiently on their small boats having cast their nets, hoping their efforts are not in vain.
After berthing for the night at Shantipur we continued to Kalna, where we took electric rickshaws to visit the unique Shiva temple encircled by 108 individual shrines. In this town we also saw some of Bengal’s most attractive terracotta temples. Here we had a detailed talk regarding the discovery/introduction of the number 0 by Indian mathematicians. Think what you couldn’t do without using zero. Add up to 10 for one thing. You’re probably wondering where this conversation is heading aren’t you? A concentric shape is the same as the number zero. Maths comes into everything!
We walked back to the ship through the fish and chicken market. This was crowded with customers and stalls and dead animals. It seems the Hindu vegetarianism is centred around western and central India. Mind you we are enjoying the vegetarian food on offer.
Passing through the town we also witnessed groups of children playing India’s favourite game – cricket. After reaching the ship it set off for Matiari.. The afternoon was spent relaxing and watching the countryside roll by.
As we travelled up river we passed the Hare Krishna temple, the largest in this region of India. Our guide referred to this belief as a cult.
For part of the afternoon our cook gave a cookery demonstration complete with a chicken curry recipe and tasting. Now I know where I have been going wrong! Maybe we shall forgo our adherence to vegetarian cuisine, just for one night.
We continued travelling up river after dark as we had to cover over 100 km. I can’t wait for our dinner, the rumour is that it could be chicken curry.
Arriving after breakfast, we visited the village’s cottage industries. The first we saw was the building where mustard oil was made. Bengali food is invariably cooked using this oil.
Afterwards we were taken to a house where scrap metal was collected to be smelted and shaped into ornaments and utensils of various types, shapes and sizes; each one created with precision and care. The livelihood of the people we met depended on the success of their cottage industries. We were impressed with the determination shown to make a success of their lives.
On our return to the ship we were entertained by a group of local folk musicians playing traditional music of the region. Most of the instruments were unfamiliar but we were invited to try our hands at playing them. Our success with some was debatable.
After lunch we went ashore again to visit Plassey; the scene of the battle between Robert Clive and Siraj ud Daulah in 1757. Clive’s victory ensured Britain’s dominance in the area. After walking through the village and surrounding countryside we returned to our ship to set sail upriver a distance of nearly 100 km.
The following morning we boarded the tender boat to take us to Khushbagh, a peaceful Moghul style garden enclosing the tombs of Siraj-ud-Daulah and his family. His defeat at Plassey changed the course of Indian history.
After boarding our ship we travelled further upriver for Hazarduari Palace, one of the ancient capitals of Bengal. Here we disembarked and walked along the stall laden street towards the museum, an imposing ‘Georgian’ styled building unlike any traditional Moghul or Hindu construction. On display were many European paintings which outnumbered Indian artwork. The British influence was making itself apparent on a large scale.
After lunch on the boat we took a bus to visit the Katra Mosque and the Nashipara and Katgola palaces. Before returning to the ship we were given free time to explore Hazarduari shopping centre.
After dinner we were entertained by a young magician whose illusions were as impressive as most we see on the television. After his act ended I was asked to entertain the passengers with a guitar one of the crew had obtained from a relation in the town.
The following morning we went ashore at 7:00 before breakfast to see the village of Baranagar. Several temples can be found here but the most important part of the visit in my mind was to a small school run by Kalyan Mandal, a young man who wishes to teach the children of the surrounding area to master English. Although the language is the second most widely spoken in India, it isn’t taught in many state schools. The school is supported by the boat company and welcomes additional support by the tourists who visit it. We spoke to several pupils and their aspirations are to be commended.
The remainder of the morning was spent relaxing on the ship but after lunch we visited Mirzapur, a village where silk weaving takes place in a large number of houses. The welcome by the children as we both landed and departed was enthusiastic to the point of hysterical, many wanting to ‘high five’ us.
Once we returned to the ship we set off for Farakka, our last port of call on the Varuna ship. From here we travelled by bus to reach the ruined city of Gour, crossing the only bridge for miles that crossed the Ganges. At this point the river itself is nearly two miles wide. The bridge is so busy it cannot be closed for repairs, consequently the road is covered with deep ruts and potholes limiting a hasty crossing.
The road is one of the main routes to Bangladesh and as we approached the border, lines stretching miles of lorries were parked along the road loaded with hard-core and construction materials for road improvements waiting to cross into the neighbouring country. As the bridge is supervised by the Indian army taking photos of it while travelling across it is forbidden.
Once we reached our destination we were taken around the various ruined buildings which in their heyday would have majestic. The buildings were immense with covered gateways high enough for elephants carrying their princes to pass safely underneath. Here we had a group photo in front of the large gateway.
We returned to our ship for the last night on board before our return to Kolkata by train. The ship was berthed opposite a beached area on the bank of the Ganges. After our dinner we were entertained by a local dance group who taught us many dance steps seen in Bollywood movies.
Friday 10th. November, it is our last morning on board the Varana, or Sukapha to use its original name. Our cases were transported across the river to the buses to await our final journey in this last town. We arrived at the railway station to take the train back to Kolkata, that busy, crowded, crazy city of over sixteen million inhabitants.
After half an hour our train arrived but we had little time to board. The staff from the boat who had accompanied us with our luggage loaded the carriage in the little allocated time as we queued by another carriage door eager to board before the train began to pull away from the platform. The journey took a little over four hours and we were fed on board. On our arrival we made our farewells to those who were making the journey to other places while we who had planned to travel to the airport continued by bus across the city where traffic of every description whether it be on foot or wheel makes its presence felt, weaving in and out of others paths carrying loads of every description to a destination that can take both minutes and hours.
We had planned to stay at a hotel near the airport, in preparation for our flight the following morning. We turned in early in preparation for a 6:30 start.
After a comfortable night in the Holiday Inn in Kolkata we were ready for a taxi transfer to the airport. Unsure if our links would co-ordinate effectively we approached the Air India desk at 7:00 assuming the three hour check in would be sufficient for a seamless transfer at Delhi. As the hopes and fears unfolded we realised the transfer might not go as smoothly as we’d hoped. First of all the staff member at the desk stated we’d need to check our baggage at Delhi before we could receive another boarding card for the Virgin/Atlantic flight to Heathrow. With slightly less than two hours for our change of airlines we wondered if we’d make it on time for our homeward bound flight. The consequences of missing this weighed heavily upon us. Finding another hotel for the night in Delhi, cancelling the Heathrow hotel, and rearranging the train journey to West Wales were the three that sprang to mind. There were probably more but we didn’t want to think any further than these.
We set off from Kolkata airport ten minutes late and to compound matters as we approached the stated arrival time we were informed the airport was exceptionally busy and we’d have to circle around until a vacant spot for landing became available. We managed to convince one of the stewardesses to move us closer to the front of the aeroplane and sat in anticipation . The smog surrounding the city meant the airport wasn’t visible through the windows and we only realised we’d landed by feeling the impact as we hit the ground. As the aeroplane taxied towards the airport we left our seats to make for the door. As soon as we stopped and the door opened we rushed up the exit corridor and ran towards the international transfer gate. This took an age and a day and we were eventually directed towards the immigration desk where our passports had to be checked as we’d arrived on a domestic flight. We were then told to go towards the exit so we ran towards the lift to take us to the correct floor where we could find the Virgin desk. Here we collected our new boarding cards and pushed our way through ‘security’ making excuses we were in danger of missing our link. Running through the duty free shop we found the gate for our aeroplane. Passengers were already boarding and we finally stopped after joining the queue. It had taken us an hour to finally reach our aeroplane home. We set off on time at 2:00. Richard Branson was not going to wait. We sat and hoped our luggage would be transferred from the Air India aeroplane. That revelation would have to wait until we arrive at Heathrow. Having left India and the largest airport I’ve seen I can only state that our hosts, fellow passengers and staff at Delhi airport were the most helpful and considerate I’ve met. The long journey home had begun.
On our eight hour flight home I had the privilege of watching a ‘The Viceroy’s House’ based on the book ‘Freedom at Midnight’. It covers the subject of the partition of India in 1947. The film was produced by the grand-daughter of a lady, the victim of the diaspora. I’ve now bought the book to compare with the theme of the film.) Thank you Betsy for the recommendation. I am returning from the ‘beautiful mess’ as described by one of our new friends from Rajasthan, but when one has experienced the country one easily becomes attached to it; For us it gets into the blood.
We left the aeroplane anticipating we’d be returning home with just our cabin bags however we stood and waited with more hope than expectation at the carousel for the hold baggage to appear. Ten minutes went by and some cases continued to appear a second and third time but there was no sign of ours. The number of cases began to diminish and we began to lose hope when all of a sudden they appeared from behind the skirting. Both delighted and surprised we left the airport and took a taxi to our hotel to stay for one night before the train journey home the following day. Tired and in need of sleep we settled down early before embarking on our journey home.
India is a fascinating country that enters one’s bloodstream pumping its way around the body returning to the heart with memories that keep on changing with thoughts of each activity experienced. It is worthy of many return visits and consequently we have decided that western Rajasthan will be our next location, possibly in two years’ time.
This is our last morning before we travel back to Cardiff. As it is Owen’s birthday, the milestone now reached when the state rewards him, we have planned to return to the restaurant at which we ate yesterday morning. Unfortunately we’d not made a mental note of its location and spent over half an hour searching the varied streets, bridges and districts of titilating interest until we found it. A large basket of croissants, rye bread, various flavoured baps and cheese accompanied with ham was placed before us by yet another helpful attractive young waitress.
Once we had finished we left and said our farewells as Owen & Jackie had booked a guided walk around the city before their return to the airport. Jen & I caught a tram to the flower market where we bought several packs of tulip bulbs to cultivate at home; what else would one buy in Amsterdam?
After collecting our luggage from the hotel we returned to the airport and checked in having displayed our boarding cards on our I phones. The return flight of one hour ensured we were on the road by five o’ clock.
Choosing to eat breakfast in town we travelled to the centre and found a delightful cafe serving a variety of croissants and breads. Owen & Jackie had arranged a cycle ride to take them north of the city for the day; we had chosen a canal ride and a visit to the Rhuichs museum to view the Dutch old masters Rhembrant and Vermeer amongst them. The canal tour took us to the port where enormous cruise ships and river boats were berthed. The city’s canal system proved fascinating having ensured the wealth of the country was assured. The museum/art gallery was again as fascinating as the Van Gogh exhibition. The artist were certainly ‘masters’. Any art historian would be fascinated by the techniques and developments regarding light and shade displayed on the canvasses. Unfortunately The Girl with the Pearl Earring was not on display; it is at a gallery in The Hague. Ah well, another visit to the Netherlands is a must!
We returned to the hotel in the late afternoon and discovered Holland was playing football against Bulgaria in a World Cup qualifying match in the Ajax Stadium opposite our hotel. The atmosphere appeared friendly but we decided to return to the centre after the match had begun.
The evening was spent at a Chinese restaurant for an exceptionally reasonable charge. One beer later we returned to the hotel.
A lie in was greeted with lazy enthusiasm before breakfast. The hotel meal was varied, tasty and bountiful before we set off for the centre of this fascinating city. Using our two day travel ticket we took the Metro northwards on the twenty minute journey after which we wandered around several sights inhaling the intoxication of this liberal location. Various shops and sights kept underground in most cities are treated with a high level of indifference by the local residents. As nothing had been arranged for the day we returned to our luxurious hotel to relax in preparation to meet our friends Owen & Jackie. At the time we estimated they would arrive we walked along the route to the station. The timing was perfect.
That evening we found an Argentinian restaurant where the steak dinners were as varied as the sauces that accompanied them. A wander around the liberal quarter where personal services are touted was followed by a return to the hotel for the night.
A 10:00 take off from Cardiff ensured a mid-day landing at Schipoll, Europe being 1 hour ahead. The double decker train carried us to our destination Bijlmer station a five minute walk from the Jaz Hotel. The Metro, a convenient and easy method of travelling to the centre, took us to points of interest where we strolled through streets infested with cyclists on missions at breakneck speed. Avoiding them requires many skills of observation. Eventually we reached the Van Gogh gallery and spent over two hours gazing in admiration at the artistic creations of the genius whose brush strokes tell their own stories of personal development and unfortunate torture. A walk along one of the city’s many canals took us back to the Metro and the return to the hotel bar. After a long day and 19,000 steps an early night beckoned.
Roaches on tour. 