Row Row Row a Boat: Floating Market, October 2005

Have you ever bought vegetables from a boat? Have you ever gone fruit shopping on a boat?

I hadn't.

I grew up helping my mom shop in Calcutta by going to the fish market and the chicken guy and to the local grocer where I would wait patiently as the shop keeper would make small talk with all the shoppers till he looked at the patiently waiting, pimpled, school boy. Mumbai introduced me to the joy of self service malls and departmental stores.

The floating market near Bangkok was a completely different experience. It is based on Thailand's river civilisation where myriad houses are on the river on stilts and where you have a whole water world thingie going on. People live their lives there, shop there, fish there, grow up, get married...and are probably closer to the river than the fish that live in it.

The floating market was about a couple of hour's drive from Bangkok. I had first heard of it from my ex boss. He is an avid photographer. He told me that he had gone all the way there just to take photos.

I could understand why when we reached there. The place was a riot of colours. A photographer's delight. You had people in narrow canoe like boats selling fruits, vegetables, handicrafts in a fairly narrow canal. The tourists and shoppers move around in similar boats to look around. You hollered out if something caught your eye, both boats stopped as the transaction was made. Strangely enough, there was more order in the chaos than in a typical Indian road as everyone would peacefully and patient manoeuvre around each other in the market. There was a busy buzz which really energised one. At the same time one felt light years way from the daily grind. It was as if one was in a world where life was simple and uncomplicated, a world where there were no bar codes or offers of the day.

It was one of the most vivid experiences of my life which I will never forget.

We reached the market in James Bond boats. These are narrow jet propelled wooden boats which were used in a Bond film. Just the thing to excite a Bond fan like me. I could hear the Bond track play in my mind as we sped down to the market.

Kainaz had her moments of thrill too as we stopped at a snake farm on the way. She took a picture with the snakes while I stood a few kilometers away. She is apparently fascinated by snakes. I don't know what it says about her choosing me then.

The photo below is of two boys in the farm who took the venom out of a cobra in front of us.

Another quaint travelling memory from that day was that of an elderly Pakistani Hindu couple who we met during the trip. They had left their children at home and were having a ball at Thailand. I think all of us enjoyed some company of people from the sub continent after our days in the Far East. I remembered that the gentleman was particularly friendly and boisterous in contrast to his wife who would keep smiling sweetly. Kainaz and I really enjoyed the Indian snack, chiwda/ dalmoth, which they offered us and which was a pleasant break from our favourite Thai curries.

I hope Kainaz and I keep travelling the world without a care when we are their age.

The Chilly Crab Trail : The world on a platter at Singapore, April 2008

Have you ever seen a stuffed toy which comes with its own recipe?

The hospitality kit at my hotel at Singapore had just that. A tiny red stuffed toy in the shape of a crab. It had a ‘Uniquely Singapore’ label attached to it. The label read ‘Chilli (sic) crab – one of the most famous dishes you can savour in Singapore, where the world comes to feast’. It also had a recipe of a dish called ‘chilly crab’. This was apparently the national dish of Singapore.

Just the welcome gift to make a foodie feel at home.

I set off on my quest for chilly crab. My first night was with some Indian friends who took me to an Indian restaurant at Clark Quay. Clark Quay is the redeveloped river front in Singapore which is its food Ibiza. You will find many restaurants from all over the world. The food ranges from Mongolian to Thai to Italian and of course good old desi curry. The architecture is quite hip with glass, chrome and laser lights. It is quite an awesome and glitzy place.

Now here’s the thing. I never have Indian food when I am abroad so good bye to the telecaller Mr 22 nights/ 23 days Europe Darshan with Indian Maharaj. I must admit that the channa masala, naans and tikkas in the restaurant were fairly good. But the fact that I don’t even remember the name of the restaurant reflects what I thought of it.

So night one was Indian with no sign of chilly crab. The next afternoon I disassociated from my friends who wanted to go malling and as I went to Museum Of Asian Civilisation (that’s the part of me which we Bengalis call aatel or intellectual). The museum was right in front of Boat Quay. Boat Quay was another reclaimed river front at Singapore. It is far more like the simple sister of Clark Quay. It has an array of open air restaurants facing the river front but doesn’t have the glamour and scale of Clark Quay.

I came fairly close to chilly crab here. I ordered the national dish here only to be told that there were no small crabs and the larger ones would be too big for not so little me. I left the place after having the most amazing prawn sambal there. They had done this dried red chilly based Indonesian dish to perfection with a few cubes of raw tomato giving just the right balance of tanginess. I had this with a fried rice which was not very different from what you get in Mumbai. So much for those who run down ‘Indian’ Chinese.

After Indian and Indonesian my next meal was Persian. I went with some folks I met at Singapore to Clark Quay one night where we went to a Persian restaurant called Shiraz. We had the most amazing feta cheese salad, the world’s best kebab platter which had a mix of venison, quail, fish, lamb and the most tender chicken ever. There was belly dancer there who through the haze of smoke and fumes of wine seemed to smack of Mebooba Mehbooba and Sholay.

The Singaporean national dish eluded me in my next meal too which was in a ‘hawker centre’ – Lau Pa Sat. The hawker centres in Singapore are food courtyards with an array of food stalls where you place your order and then eat in a central area. The dishes are fairly cheap and are popular with office folks, tourists and locals. Here I had an amazing Pilipino pork dish which had delectable chunks of pork in a creamy coconut sauce alone with some sticky rice. I also tried their pork satays which had a slightly tandoori’ish taste in comparison to the Malay version which is flavoured with crushed peanuts.

Our next dinner was hosted by a local Singaporean which was at the BIcentre. So would the revered chilly crab give us an audience? Missed again! We had some deceptively spicy clams, a stingray which was cooked partly in a lime marinade and partly in a red sambal paste, spicy prawn noodles. But no chilly crab!

It all came together in the banquet of the conference which I was attending. This was at a quaint restaurant called ‘No Signboard Restaurant’. The nine course dinner promised chilly crab at the end. I soldiered through the very soft and tantalising goose entrails, clams, prawns, venison cooked in a Chinese sauce and countless glasses of wine which the waitresses were refilling the way attendants replenish your glass of water in an Udipi.

Most at my table gave in by the time the chilly crabs appeared. I was the last man standing. Not for long though.

The chilly crab was a bit disappointing. The meat was a bit too ‘fish like’ for my taste. I did like the red sweetish gravy and dunked the sweet Chinese buns which come with in the gravy and quite enjoyed it. But overall, I think I would clearly prefer the butter pepper garlic crab at Mahesh in Bombay any day.

As my Singaporean sojourn came to an end it was clear that THIS was the food capital of the world. You get just about every cuisine there.

The national dish, chilly crab? Not hot and spicy enough for Indians I guess. I preferred the chilly crab that welcomed me to Singapore to the cooked version.

All Quiet on The River Kwai - a day trip from Bangkok, October 2005

Having grown up on Commando Comics, The Guns of Navarone, The Battle of Britain and Leon Uris books, I was quite excited at the prospect of seeing the river Kwai during my trip to Thailand. After all The Bridge on The River Kwai was quite the iconic war film.

We drove down in a plush bus (air conditioned, great leg space) from Bangkok. The highway was a manicured dream… a bit like with Lalu Yadav would have had in mind when he spoke of roads like ‘Hema Malini’s cheeks’. All of us in the bus dozed peacefully as our guide’s deep and pleasant voice lulled us to sleep. It was about a three hour drive to our destination.

Our first stop was at the War Memorial. This was a row of white tombstones in memory of the soldiers who had died in the Second World War in the vast green field. This was a tranquil haven which was in sharp contrast to the gore and suffering which would have marked their last days.

Our next stop was at the JEATH museum at Kanchenburi. JEATH stood for Japan, England, America and Thailand, the countries which were involved in the war in those parts.



This was a most sobering experience. The museum was built on the lines of the thatched huts where the Allied prisoners of war were kept. There were replicas of the bunks in which the prisoners slept. The narrow beds and the pictures and stories of the human suffering, the stories of people dying of dysentery, exhaustion and tropical diseases brought a lump to one’s throat. Most of us in the bus were in a bit of a daze as we left the place and the mood in the bus was quite still.


We next went to the river Kwai where we finally saw the famous bridge on the river Kwai. Well not quite. The actual bridge built by the allied prisoners of war was a wooden one and had been destroyed in the war. What we got to see was an iron bridge which was built later. Still walking on the bridge was an eerie feeling and brought the goose bumps out.


Nature did eventually take over and soothe us. The peaceful surroundings, the wet breeze, the still sounds of birds, the lazy river Kwai did calm us a bit as we gave in to the natural beauty around us.

The last part of the trip was in the somewhat dramatically named Death Train. This narrow train with wooden seats was a replica of trains on which the Japanese soldiers would inspect the workers in the camps. The train took us past the mines where the POWs worked to build the original bridge.


We stopped at an ‘elephant camp’ before we stopped for lunch on our way back to Bangkok. Elephant camps dot the Thai countryside where orphaned elephants are looked after. They are sort of tourist trips too as awestruck Westerners are enticed to part with dollars to go on an elephant ride. Our guide introduced us to the camp as a ‘special treat’. In our subsequent trips across Thailand we came across many such ‘special stops’ - elephant camps, snake camps and of course the gem factories. They would just eat into the main trip and was based on the hope that some gullible souls would part with their money.



The stop was not a waste though as I came across my alter ego from the elephant world! This was the greediest and hungriest elephant ever. At the camp one could buy bananas and feed the elephants. I did this while we were waiting for those who went on the elephant ride. That’s when we came across this tiny baby elephant who would bully all the grown ups aside and take the bananas from my hand without a fear in the world. And he did have quite an appetite.

This is when I remembered what one of our teachers called me when I was all chubby in junior school – baby elephant!

Eye of the Tiger: The Sunderbans, October 2007

Let me describe a typical day in my life.

I tumble out of the bed as various folks ring the door bell. Then I sit in my car in a daze as we inch forward through the potholes of Bombay, navigating bumper to bumper traffic, dodging jaywalkers, with only slums and construction sites to look at. Then at work one goes from one meeting to another and one deadline to another with every minute carefully planned in the Outlook calender. The end of the day sees the the same ride back ... potholes, traffic, jaywalkers, slums, smog...then home, a quick walk by the sea, dinner, TV, bed.

No wonder the idea of a couple of days at the Sunderbans last year during our trip to Calcutta really appealed to me. Sunderbans is the world's largest fresh water mangrove forest. It is also the world's largest tiger habitat. It is at the border of India and Bangladesh

My wife, Kainaz ,and I had often thought of going there in the past but steered clear as we were not sure about the accommodation. Then our friend Abhik, from Wanderers, told us about the Sunderban Tiger Camp. We booked ourselves there under his assurance. It turned out to be a really nice place. The room we stayed in was functional and yet pleasing with aircon and a fairly neat and clean attached bathroom. It was one of the most expensive rooms there and didn't disappoint us.

I went there to get away from the grime of the city. And I got what I wanted. The place was tranquil, quiet and peaceful. The day would consist of us going down the river in a steam boat. There were just the two of us and one more family so we had the boat pretty much to ourselves. I lost myself in another world as we trailed down the lazy river with the green woods on both sides of us. The air was as pure as it gets. Time stood still.

A friend of ours recommended that we read Amitav Gosh's The Hungry Tide when she heard that we were going to the Sunderbans. I am really thankful to her. This book, which is set in the Sunderbans, really brought the place alive to me. Reading the book while I was there was a magical experience. I would read about the jungle lore, about the tiger and about tribal tales of magic and then would see the places described over there. Awesome! And this was especially helpful because our guide was not very informative and could not bring the place alive. His commentary was pedantic and drab. We have seen much better.

After our cruise we would come back to the Tiger Camp, have a nice Bengali meal, sleep, wake up, stroll down to a nearby village, watch a tribal performance in the camp, eat, sleep. The picture below is from a tribal or Santhal dance.


Peace, quiet, still waters, balmy breeze, ample greenery, a great book, good food, deep sleep...my recipe for a perfect holiday. And there was nothing to beat the expereience of going to the mohona or the place where the river went into the Bay of Bengal and to see the change in the colour of water where the river met the sea. It was a humbling experience as we were alone in the tiny trawler on the vast stretch of water.


Though I must admit that there were quite a few disgruntled humans there. To start with Kainaz was one. As were the members of the other family who were in the camp. (btw before you think Jim Corbett, the 'camp' was a set of concrete houses with most modern comforts except a television).

Apparently the main attraction to come to the Sunderbans is to see a tiger! Hence 'Tiger Camp'. I was blissfully unaware of this and was in seventh heaven as I soaked in nature's bounty. The others though were gnashing their teeth though and were not mincing their words with the travel guide. We did saw the odd croc and many water lizards, even a few cranes, but no tiger or baagh mama as he is called in Bengal.

Frankly the chances of seeing good old tiggy is quite remote if you think about it. The tigers dwell in the forest though they are known to swim through the river. But they wouldn't really come to a steam boat making a racket would they? And tourists can't get into the forest as it is unsafe (some tigers are man eaters, crocodiles, snakes etc etc). Plus the shore is under water during high tide. Now what are the chances of spotting a tiger from a moving boat? Its not really a cat walk down there. A tiger is unlikely to come to the shore and wave at you. The photo below gives the view from the boat. This is where you are supposed to spot tigers.



Still hoards of people from all over the world come to Sunderbans in hope of seeing this rare and vast vanishing beast. A few are lucky. A very few.

The closest we came to see a tiger was in the form of this sprightly man who did shock us a bit during a tribal dance at the camp in the evening.



Most have to come back content with a break from the 'Madding Crowd' and from seeing a few monkeys or cranes.

If you were to ask me then I would say that Sunderban is an experience which is really worth it and which helps detoxify one. And I must admit that I was in a minority in October 2007 in the Sunderban Tiger Camp.

Traveller's tip: You can maximise your chance of seeing a tiger if you go in December as the fat cats come out to take in the sun then. And, don't forget to take a copy of the Hungry Tide with you.

The Tiger Camp was a nice place to stay in. A 2 night stay in a good room costs about Rs 8000 or USD 200. This includes the travel to and from Calcutta in a, sadly, rickety, non air conditioned bus, all meals (tasty Bengali food with the odd Chinese misadventures, continental picnic breakfasts on the boat), the trips in the boat (with a clean, functional toilet) down the river and a not too articulate guide. The service was very friendly and accomodative. They also have a shop where you can buy honey from the forest and some tribal handicrafts.

Couple of sore points were the guide who could not bring alive the magic of the place and wasn't comfortable in English and the bus ride from hell back to Calcutta (3 hrs) which kills the experience.

And, of course, a very remote chance of seeing a tiger.

The call of Baga

I discovered Baga in my second trip to Goa which was actually my first trip. No, I am not speaking in riddles. My first trip was on an office junket to Taj at Goa. South Goa has a number of such lovely five star properties. The problem is that these could be anywhere in the world. They are not really distinctive.

My second trip to Goa was with some friends, one of whom was a Goa buff. She was the one who told us that Baga is THE place to be in Goa. And she was right. To me it is the ulitmate Goa experience.

Baga is a beach at North Goa and is next to the more populated, Calangute.

If the phrase 'chilled out' was invented for a place, it would be for Baga. The place is full of foreigners head for during season. You will almost feel as if you are not in India. The Indian crowd consists more of young couples or groups of friends. You will find very little of the conservative, family crowd there - so no wailing babies or hyper parents. Very different from Calangute next door.

Baga connected with me in the first trip itself as that was probably the first time I had set off with friends to just have fun. We lazed in the beach shacks in the mornings over beer and chilly chicken, slept, had wine, smoked innumerable cigarettes, ate, drove around on a scooter, discovered new restaurants, threw up, slept. Getting into the sea didn't feature anywhere. We met a few more '6 degrees of separation' friends and really had a ball. In fact the three of us stayed in this fairly tiny room in a 6 room hotel called called Don Juom at 300 Rs (8 USD) a day. I guess it was the final snip to the umbilical chord. Which is why Baga has became synonymous with freedom to me.

My first trip to Goa with Kainaz was on our honeymoon to Holiday Inn. One enjoyed the faceless luxuries of a five star and sat through innumerable buffet dinners. Again, this could be anywhere.

The next time we went to Goa I took her to Baga. She fell in love with it as I once had. That too during off season when half the places were shut. Such is the magic of Baga. Since then we have gone back there at least four times in three years.

So what is the spell of Baga? The beach of course and the stream of shacks (beach side restaurants). Two things though. The shacks are there only during season (November to March). Also they are very crowded towards the tip of Baga and you are better off going to a shack in between Baga and Calangute as that is likely to be less crowded.

There is a sense of freedom which surrounds Baga. It comes from the distant horizons, from staring into the endless sea sitting on the beach, from the relaxed mood of the tourists far away from their daily routines, from seeing the surfers in the distant sea and in the air, from seeing people walk lazily up the lanes, from seeing the happy smiles around one.

The food of course is a dream come true. You get a selection of the best of Goan food. We have our favourites. Infanteria for its pork chilly fry, mussel chilly fry, beef burgers, prawn balchao and lazy breakfasts. Brittos for its view of the sea, its lipsmacking prawn baffat and prawn chilly fry. Love Shack for its sausage fries, pork chilly fries, its chilled King's Beer. Our recent discoveries - Casa Portuguesa for its expereince of colonial, aristocratic, Goa and Lila's Cafe for a European, tropical (!) breakfast. You can read more about the various Baga eats in my food blog.

Finding a place to stay is an adventure in itself in Baga. You live and learn. None of the established names are there. Over the years we have stayed at places... got dissatisfied... checked hotels down the stretch...unearthed some gems...which sometimes turned out to be duds on our next visit...checked more hotels...unearthed more gems...you get the gist. That's the thing about 'places to stay' - there are so unpredictable and they come in all shapes and sizes. We had some lovely discoveries such as Goa Holiday Resort (in the dumps in our next stay), a few lovely times at Villa Goesa (very disappointed this year), discovered a treasure called Waters this time. Hope it remains the same year and that we get a place since there are only six or seven rooms. We also keep checking out a place called Casa Alexio which looks very luxurious though haunted. The average price of rooms in these hotels are about Rs 2500 (60 USD) now.

Things to do? I have seen people swim, indulge in water sports at Baga. Baga is famous for its discs - Titos and Mambos. Kainaz loves to shop for sarongs, slippers and tee shirts. For me its a bit like Seinfeld. Its a place to do nothing at all. At the most eat and lie on the beach and read.

It's a strange vacation. By now there is hardly anything new to 'see'. In fact I feel at home the moment I walk down the streets. There is a certain comfort which I drawn in the sheer familiarity of the place. I would love to retire over there. Kainaz thinks I'll get bored. I doubt it.

I really hope that my luck holds and that I can make it to Baga next February too.

My ode to Goa

Kainaz had predicted that the first place that I will write about in my travel site will be Goa.

I have fallen in love with the place. I must have averaged a trip a year to Goa in the last five years or so. I have celebrated most of my birthdays there recently. I would love to retire there someday.

There are many things that I love about Goa. The languorous, balmy pace of life. Nothing is rushed. Things happen in due course. This is of course a tourist's perspective.

The food is lovely. In fact it is a non vegetarian's paradise. Local Goan food is very tasty. At the same time you get a lot of international cuisines, especially European (even less easily available ones such as German, Russian), thanks to the high proportion of tourists. The traditional North and South Indian fares are available in abundance.

There are a variety of places to stay in from five stars to boutiques to small villas and even places which fit a backpacker's budget. Accommodation at Goa is getting pricier by the day though and it is quite difficult to get a good place during high season - November to end February.

What I like best about Goa is that there is a huge range of things to do there. Just look at the range of holidays I have had there:

• an office conference/ junket at the Taj, a five star in South Goa
• a wild trip in my bachelor days to Baga Beach. A first for my fairly straight jacketed life till then. We stayed at a tiny place at Baga.
• our honeymoon in Holiday Inn
• Kainaz and my recent mini getaways to Baga where we eat, read, eat, sleep, eat, shop, drink, eat

As you can see there is a lot to do here. And I have not even included things like swimming or rave parties which are quite popular here.

The important thing about 'Goa' is that it is not a single town. It is a state/ province with a number of beaches, rivers, hills and a few small towns and villages. A convenient rule of thumb is that North Goa is the more active/ 'happening' place while South Goa is quieter and has the more luxurious hotel properties.

I plan to write about things to do, places to stay, eats, etc in Goa over the nest few days.

Decisions

I think Turkey takes the lead now.

I spoke to a travel agent yesterday who has been there recently. She was praising it quite a bit. She also said that she knew of some people who were apparently not that kicked with Egypt.

She was speaking of doing the Istanbul and Cappadocia circuit and Izmir over Antolia. The latter is apparently more of a family beach destination. Izmir seems to have more places of historical interest which would appeal more to Kainaz and me.

Then I came home and looked up Izmir on the Lonely Planet for Turkey. Didn't seem too encouraging.

I think Turkey is an interesting branding challenge. As I had said they didn't have the heritage of an Egypt or a Greece or a China. We hardly heard about Turkey while growing up except in the 2 GK questions - country with the same name as a bird, country across two continents. Who knew that Troy was in Turkey? At the same time they seem to have a lot of interesting things going for them. Plus the quite a few of the names are tongue twisters. it is quite easy to read an itinerary which has names like Alexandria, Penang or Pattaya than Gallipolli, Cappadocia, Kusadasi, Pergemon (?). Half the times I just gloss over the names while reading out the itenerary to Kainaz. A bit like Joey's French in an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S.