The Flora & Fauna of the Maligne Valley
9 Temmuz 2023, Kanada ⋅ ⛅ 18 °C
As an addendum, I would like to introduce you to some of the flowers and animals we saw today. I felt the previous section was already too long, so have added this piece.
The flora around Maligne Lake was subtle and beautiful as you will see. It is the time for wild flowers so I will be keeping my eye out for more, particularly in the Alpine Meadows.
The photos will tell the story.
Of course there is wildlife galore in the Rockies, some sweet and harmless, others less so.
Our guide gave us a long lecture on what to do if meeting a bear round the corner - heaven forbid! The précis of it all was if it’s a Grizzly play dead and it ‘should lose interest’. I was rather perturbed by the ‘should’! If it’s a black bear you’ll have to fight for your life if you can’t retreat, because it will kill and eat you. Hit it on the nose seemed to be the preferred strategy. I’d have died of fright first, so possibly not necessary.
On our way back we came across an osprey and it’s nest, two mountain sheep traversing an unbelievably steep rock face, an elk resting in the undergrowth (no photo sorry), and finally a black bear foraging by the side of the road. How lucky were we?
Our guide on the Mary Schaffer told a fantastic story of Mike, the wildlife warden, in these parts, whose job it is to keep,an eye on the animal population, in particular the bears. He watches them by powerful telescope high up in the meadows and was worried to see a Grizzly laying on its front, day after day. In the end, he decided he would have to investigate and made his way up there. To his astonishment the bear was happily laying on the carcass of a dead elk, feasting and sleeping continuously, obviously protecting his food supply by laying on it!! He knows most of the bears individually and when this individual woke from hibernation the following spring, he arranged to weigh him. After hibernation, when a bear will lose one third of its body weight, he still weighed 700lbs! I asked Nick how on earth you weigh a Grizzly? ‘ Ah’ he said, ‘it’s complicated and basically involves a block and tackle and a helicopter’ The mind boggles!
Enjoy the photos.
My phrase of the Day for you all:-
The Meaning of Life : Create, Experience, Understand, Expand.Okumaya devam et
Jasper - Maligne Valley
9 Temmuz 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☀️ 20 °C
There is clearly no rest for the wicked and we were up bright and early to set off on a small local tour, as we have no car until tomorrow. The sun is shining and the sky a brilliant blue. It looks like being a hot one!
Maligne Canyon was our first call. Geologically and geographically this is a fascinating area. It is partly limestone country, so there are lots of mysterious waterways, due to the solubility of the rock and its faults and weaknesses. It is thought that during the last Ice Age the whole area was covered by a huge ice sheet 200-300 meters thick and this rock canyon was originally a cave carved out by water that flowed under the glacier. The weight of the ice collapsed the roof of the cave along its weakest fault line and when the ice eventually retreated the canyon was very much as we see it today. Rushing streams continue the erosion today and the topography is changing all the time. There is a ‘chock block’ erratic wedged at the head of the canyon, which will gradually be eroded until it is small enough to fall to the canyon floor. Amazingly, fossils are clearly to be seen in the bed rock we were walking over. It was a drool worthy scene for sad creatures like me and was only to get better.
Our next call was Medicine Lake, a most unusual feature. At the moment the lake is quite low and would normally be a lot higher, but whatever the level, come the winter the water will disappear, often completely. The indigenous Stoney people who have lived in the area for thousands of years christened this the Medicine lake because of what they thought were it’s supernatural powers to rejuvenate and heal itself annually. We now know that the lake bed is riddled with sink holes and underground waterways that drain the water away during the dry season and feed lakes further downstream that seemingly have no river supplying them. It is the most beautiful sight as you will see from the photos. Pale blue in colour and surrounded by low peaks. There were catastrophic forest fires in 2016 that devastated the trees all around and they are only now staring to regrow. A bald eagles nest is perched high on a tree by the water and at the time it had a eaglet in the nest, which astonishingly survived the intense heat and conflagration.
Our final call is at Maligne Lake itself, where we are to take a cruise. You arrive at the bridge and have your first glimpse of this most magnificent lake. This is the most dramatic of them all and you will see why from the photos. Again created by glaciation it is a deep turquoise blue lake because of the glacial silt held suspended in the water, which refracts the sunlight to a glorious shade of blue. It only got better. We set off on the Mary Schaffer, named for a local lady who studied and wrote a book on the flora and fauna of the region. I went to stand out on the deck at the back of the boat as we zipped along, the better to see the fantastic scenery all around. As we approached the far end, the peaks were even more dramatic, sharp arêtes cutting the sky, rock scoured and polished by glaciation and glaciers hanging down from the peaks. Only three weeks ago a sudden fall of 3ft of snow paralysed the area and if we had visited then, none of this would have been possible. Gliding round the final corner of Maligne Lake we drifted to a stop to disembark and admire this patch of paradise. The sun shone glinting off the turquoise water. The peaks soared all around and in front of us was Spirit Island. All was still and silent and like the Stoney people before us, I think everyone was captured by the special atmosphere of this place. A small boardwalk has been constructed to allow for better viewing. The photos will tell the story.
Wild flowers grew all around, right to the waters edge. You can imagine my reaction - heaven on earth.
Spirit Island is sacred to the Stoney people. After many years of separation, they now return to perform their annual ceremony and there is a real attempt to rebuild the relationship between peoples. Their ethos of life is that all natural things have a spirit
and that you should introduce yourself to a piece of nature to make your peace with it, usually by a laying on of hands.
The definition of home is that wherever the light touches your skin, be it sunlight, moonlight or starlight, this is your home. Life in the moment.
I cannot imagine a more perfect day.Okumaya devam et
Journey Through The Clouds to Jasper
8 Temmuz 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☀️ 21 °C
The overnight stop at the small town of Kamloops was brilliantly organised, bearing in mind approximately 500 people from the Rocky Mountaineer had to be accommodated with the minimum of trouble. Before disembarking you are given an envelope stating your hotel, coach and room number. You can walk straight to your room and the luggage will have been delivered! This morning we walked out of the room leaving the luggage to be collected and taken to our stop in Jasper. Every detail has been carefully thought out. Kamloops was originally an indigenous settlement for thousands of years. In the mid 1800s, a group of some 150 men who came to be known as the Overlanders set out from Winnipeg in Manitoba to find an overland route across the mountains to join the gold rush. One wife refused to let her husband go alone. Mrs Schubert and their three children joined the group and over the next few months endured untold hardships to reach the promised land. For the final month they existed on rosehips and potatoes and when Mrs Schubert reached Kamloops she informed her husband that they were going no further! The next day she gave birth to a baby daughter they named Rose, after the berries that had kept them alive. The Schuberts were the first white family to settle in Kamloops, the name originating from a First Nation word “Tk’emlups” meaning “meeting of the waters”.
Life as we know it resumed at 8am this morning, when the Rocky Mountaineer set off on the second leg of our journey. The train left promptly in brilliant sunshine and we made our way out of Kamloops to the northeast still following the Thompson River. The river is a different beast today, now still as a millpond, so calm as to be a mirror lake reflecting the trees along the waters edge. The valley floor is again wide and fertile and isolated farms and settlements are nestled in beautiful surroundings. We slow for a freight train to pass, breakfast is served and the champagne appears. It’s pretty idyllic. Gradually the train starts to climb, the landscape closes in, changes and the forest reappears.
Lunch is served and not long afterwards out of nowhere we come across the Pyramid Falls. I will post you a video. It is so beautiful. The Rockies are looming ever closer. The mixed temperate forest is slowly changing to predominantly pine and firs with wild creeks tumbling their way through. You can almost feel the atmosphere changing, mind you, it could be something to do with the margarita that has yet again appeared at my elbow!!
The train picks up speed as it travels through the Rocky Mountain Trench created by tectonic plate movement hundreds of thousands of years ago. The trench runs north to south from the Yukon to Montana splitting the mountain groups in two leaving the Rocky Mountains the higher. Mount Robson is the highest peak in Canada at 12,972 ft and we had a fabulous unimpeded view of it today against a clear blue sky, which is apparently unusual. We were lucky and it was such an impressive sight.
As Jasper becomes ever closer the higher the mountains loom above us. Moose Lake appears on our right, perfectly tranquil and turquoise in colour. This is in fact the headwaters of the Fraser River that we followed for so long. The train continues to climb towards the Yellowhead Pass, which is one of the lowest of the Rocky Mountain passes, hence making it the obvious spot to construct the original transcontinental railway. The Yellowhead Pass also marks the boundary between British Columbia and Alberta and is the drainage continental divide. Eastern rivers flow to the Atlantic Ocean via Hudson Bay and the West to the Pacific Ocean. Yellowhead Lake rolls into view framed by Mt Fitzwilliam and we are coming to the end of our journey. The whole carriage had been looking for wildlife the entire trip, with little luck; the odd bald eagle, the back end of a mountain sheep and possibly half an ear of a maybe moose! We were within 10 minutes of our destination when the cry went up ‘Moose’ and sure enough there he was standing
in some swampy ground by the track. We’d hardly recovered from this when ‘Elk’ was the cry and on the other side of the track stood a young elk and would you believe round the next bend was a juvenile black bear who beat a hasty retreat when he heard the train. We were amazed, but just to top it all, in a short distance, a large black bear got up from some undergrowth by the track at our approach and slowly ambled across the adjoining road.
Well, who’d have thought it?! It completed a fabulous train journey, which we have thoroughly enjoyed. The scenery is sublime. You are off the beaten track and this is country that you cannot drive. The attention to detail and organisation by the Rocky Mountaineer is first class. I have come to conclusion that government departments could learn a great deal from them!Okumaya devam et
The Rocky Mountaineer Day 1
7 Temmuz 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☁️ 20 °C
It was a quiet day yesterday, as we gathered ourselves for the next stage of our journey.
We were up this morning as dawn broke and the sun came up over the mountains framing the harbour. It was a fitting final sight of the beautiful city of Vancouver. Queen Elizabeth had docked overnight at the cruise ship terminal and we paused to look at her as we passed on our way to meet our transportation to the Rocky Mountaineer Railway Station.
The train itself is pretty impressive as you will see. Drinks are served in the massive station foyer and after a short welcoming ceremony a piper serenades passengers as they make their way to their carriages. These are state of art as you might imagine and the seating area is ‘upstairs’ giving one an enhanced view of the scenery. The dining car being downstairs. This will be our home for the next two days.
Initially, like all train journeys, we are gently making our way out of the city, through huge rail yards and the general detritus that seems to make up the outskirts of all such cities. We crossed the wide Fraser River for the first time on something resembling the Forth Bridge and were able to see some of the state of the art bridges that have been built to span the river. The latest is a cable supported version, with heated cabling to prevent ice forming in the winter, costing over 2.5 billion Canadian dollars to construct.
Once clear of the environs of the city we find ourselves in a wide fertile mixed farming community, with the coastal mountains forever lurking in the background. It is breakfast time and meals are taken in two sittings. Today we are 2nd sitting, but tea/coffee and a delicious lemon and cranberry bread is served with a lemon drizzle to keep us alive! Breakfast is equally delicious and on arriving back at our seats it is cocktail hour! So here I sit, tapping away and keeping an eye on the passing scenery, with a margarita at my elbow. What can I say?
Gradually the terrain changes as the train climbs. Agriculture disappears and the temperate rainforest, lakes and rivers appear. The mountains close in and we start to hit long tunnels. As the river valley narrows, you can see the churning waters below and the forest clothed sheer slopes rise above us until they fill your vision. The sun glints through the trees and on to the rapidly flowing river. It is majestic and glorious. The narrowest part of the gorge is Hells Gate; named by explorer Simon Fraser when he first encountered the canyon in 1808. He and his team were dangling off the precarious walls on rope ladders made by the indigenous guides and he called this section “…a place where no human should venture, for surely these are the Gates of Hell”. The amount of water forcing its way through here in the spring is greater than that of Niagara, which takes some believing. Our track continues to follow the Fraser and then Thompson Rivers for many miles through fantastic country that slowly becomes more and more arid. The trees are phased out and tussock scrub starts to appear. Suddenly we are in desert country, with bleak rocky crags and mountainsides. This section of British Columbia has the lowest rainfall in Canada.
We descend to the dining car for a gourmet lunch, dashing out to the open viewing car every now and then to take photos when they can’t be resisted. The viewing car is a bit of a shock to our air- conditioned system. It’s rather like standing in a 90 degree hair dryer!
If you are lucky you catch sight of bald eagles and their nests perched high above the river and I’m told there are big horned sheep in ‘them there hills’, but haven’t spotted any as yet. The engineering required to make this part of the country habitable is seriously impressive. The bridges, railways and roads require enormous effort to construct and massive hydroelectric power plants are evident everywhere, noticeable by their pylons dotted about the landscape.
The Thompson River widens quite suddenly into a long narrow glaciated lake. This is Kamloops Lake and anglers come from all round the world to catch the high jumping Kamloops Trout - apparently - whatever floats your boat! The train follows it’s shoreline and we realise we are approaching our stop for the night - Kamloops.
This is the half way point in our journey and we will resume tomorrow!Okumaya devam et
Granville Island
5 Temmuz 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☀️ 26 °C
We decided to have a respite today after a hectic first week in Canada. Mind you, I’m not sure my feet would agree this evening! After a housekeeping morning we set off to gently peruse the centre of Vancouver, looking round and doing a little shopping. Our plan was to gently make our way down to the waterfront, (which one I hear you ask and rightly, because there are so many!), in this case the False Creek Waterfront. It was sweltering and those blocks on a map that don’t look far are always so much farther in reality!. A stop off for a cold drink was definitely required. I can report on looking around the ‘Shorts Study’ was in much better shape here in the city. Eventually, after a couple of uncertain moments, we found our way to the the AquaBus jetty at the bottom of Hornby Street. Here you can cross the water to Granville Island on a jaunty little boat to the other side for a very small fee. It took me back a bit, I can tell you, to the days of crossing The Ouse on my way to school as an eleven year old schoolgirl. In those days it was a lot colder and more draughty! It was a delight today with no breeze and a clear blue sky overhead.
Granville Island is just charming, ‘olde worlde’ and relaxed. The buildings are glorified sheds of one type and another, but it shouts character. We made our way to the seafood section where we had been told we must sample the lobster rolls for lunch, so we did. Well, we shared one - they were enormous, but delicious. There is a small entertainment square where that old favourite the Peruvian Nose Flute was being played with gusto. It’s been a while since I’ve heard that! The covered Public Market is a real draw and rightly so. It’s a while since I’ve seen such produce; meats and fish of all sorts, artisan pickles, breads, soups made with bone broth, cheeses, home made ice cream and anything else you can think of. It was fascinating and we spent a while wandering around wishing we could bring some of it home. Locally brewed beer and wines are on offer and incongruously, the Ocean Concrete factory in the middle of it all, sports artistically decorated silos! There are lots of very small artisan workshops. I spent a while admiring a young lady weaving silk amidst a small studio filled with fabulous pieces. Again I was desperate to find an excuse to buy something, but sense won out. It was no different round the corner at the Pearl workshop. I have never seen such colours and shapes and artistically beautiful jewellery. Surely here, I could find a reason to buy? No, I was in a ‘do I seriously need this’ frame of mind. I know, I’m slipping, but don’t expect it to last! At last we were flagging and decamped to ‘The Bridges’ restaurant by the water for an early supper and a mojito apiece, in honour of Nick and Cheryl who have been this way before with friends. Cheers!Okumaya devam et
Vancouver Ahoy!
4 Temmuz 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
As predicted, it was a long travelling day from Tofino to Vancouver. We were booked on the 5.45pm ferry from Nanaimo to Tsawasswen, the ferry terminal south of Vancouver. We had to allow plenty of time because of the engineering works en route that we were caught by on Friday. Monday was a Bank Holiday in Canada (the Canada Day weekend) and so every berth was booked and we couldn’t run the risk of missing our slot. As it happened we were very early and had to kill some time. I decided to make a study of people wearing shorts and did I think anyone passed muster?! I’m sorry to say apart from the youngsters, there was only one gentleman that reached the standard. One lady came close, until one took into account the bright blue and orange flamingo socks that knocked her off her perch. Seriously the shorts look is only for the very few!
The ferry takes 2 hours to cross the water to the mainland and the Coastal Mountains that are the backdrop to the city loom ever larger, still snow topped. We delivered the hire car to the airport and took a taxi to our hotel arriving at 8.30pm. A long day.
This morning we had booked a tour of the city to give us a flavour and we’ve had a great day. Vancouver is not quite as glitzy as Toronto, although there are plenty of glass and steel skyscrapers. Personally, I think it is more attractive with its differing districts, lots of parks and greenery, plus the mountain backdrop and water all around. I can see why Captain George Vancouver, a King’s Lynn born lad, claimed the area for Britain in 1792, having found the superb natural harbour. He named it Burrard after one of his companions and it was only later that the city was renamed after Captain Vancouver himself. There is a statue of him outside City Hall in North Vancouver, as there is also one on the Purfleet Quay, outside the King’s Lynn Custom House. We had a comprehensive look around, through the harbour and waterfronts, the old Gastown and saw the old steam clock strike the hour! There is a spectacular new Public Library built out of red sandstone to resemble the Coliseum in Rome. It is quite a sight and apparently has a very beautiful garden on the roof! We had a good look at Stanley Park, a promontory surrounded on three sides by water. It is four square kilometres and named after an early governor; a semi-wild wilderness in the middle of the city, with an aquarium, lost lagoon, botanic gardens and three beaches. It is a fabulous open public space for the city. We moved on to walk the Capilano Suspension Bridge. Set over a gorge and built entirely of wood and now steel cables this was the brainchild of a logger who needed access to the other side of the gorge and so devised this rickety bridge. It’s bad enough now, but must have been a nightmare then! We made it over and back and the darned thing jumps around all over the place gleefully helped, of course, by the youngsters. On our return I overheard a Grandma say to her grandson of about 8, ‘Now just stop all that jumping, we’ll be late for the dentist!’ Life goes on and whilst for us it was a once in a lifetime experience, for others it has to fitted in amongst the routine of life. We finished the day on Granville Island, for a quick snapshot and to where we will definitely return.
To be continued…Okumaya devam et
Tofino 2
2 Temmuz 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☀️ 18 °C
Tofino is a small charming little town, comprising of multi coloured buildings, once reliant on fishing and logging for employment. It is isolated due to its geographical position and has the laid back vibe associated with water, sports and sand. The fishing and logging have gradually dwindled allowing tourism to creep in and take over. There appear to be plenty of the usual surfing and arty types and some of sights to be seen down the Main Street have to be seen to be believed, but then what is new. We found a wonderful local bakery where everything is baked on the premises and they do a mean cooked breakfast, always the way to most Englishmen’s heart - well mine anyway. Middle Beach Lodge where we are staying is in a beautiful setting amongst the rainforest and on the beach, but has several drawbacks, continental breakfast being one of them from a certain persons point of view!
Today we decided to explore some of the trails along the Pacific Rim Highway bordering the ocean. We began with Radar Hill, a beautiful viewpoint with one of the Pacific Rim National Parks highest elevations. Having dragged yourself up there (it is quite steep) you are confronted by a spectacular view. This was originally home to a historic radar station during WW2 and now features the Kap’Yong memorial to the Canadian 2nd Battalion who served heroically and died during the Korean War.
We moved on to stop briefly at the incinerator rock viewpoint along Long Beach. The beach was busy with families and surfers. Canadian schools have now broken for the summer, so it’s bucket and spade time.
Our next stop was Combers Beach Trail, where you follow a wide path through the Sitka spruce forest before arriving at the most beautiful natural beach. Quiet, lots of driftwood ( be still my beating heart) and the Pacific breaking on to the silver sand. The forest comes right down to the beach and it is a fabulous sight.
I had planned to walk the Bog Forest boardwalk and we did set off. However we met a couple hotfooting it back with the news that a black bear was lurking in the undergrowth half way round. Ummm, now what? We turned tail and hurried back, not particularly wanting to get on his wrong side. I know, pathetic windy Brits, but we took the safety first option.
Finally, we took the boardwalk through the rainforest trail. The boardwalk itself is a work of art and I wouldn’t like to think how long it took to construct. It weaves up and down through beautiful moss covered trees, tiny streams, ferns, skunk cabbage, plus lots of foliages I couldn’t name. A small piece of very rare temperate rainforest that ranges throughout the Park, that is now carefully conserved after a huge battle between the loggers and environmentalists. Luckily the right side won in this case. The sun shone through the canopy to illuminate the forest floor and the trailing mosses and lichens that drip off every branch; it is magical.
I’m tapping away to you watching the ocean from the Lodge common area. We move on tomorrow to Vancouver. It will be another long drive and I may well not get to you until the day after.Okumaya devam et
Tofino
1 Temmuz 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☀️ 16 °C
This weekend is a National Holiday celebrating Canada Day and we have travelled to Tofino situated in the Pacific West Coast Rim National Park for a relaxing couple of days on the coast.
We drove from Victoria yesterday, knowing it would be a four hour plus journey. It took seven hours! Great Britain is not the only country addicted to traffic lights and road works!! There is only one road into the area and we had been warned there would be a delay due to the ongoing recovery of a section of road affected by wildfires a few weeks ago (there were several!). When we finally got to the section in question it was quite a sight. Huge cranes held aloft what I can only describe as steel mesh curtains secured at the bottom by massive concrete weights, whilst the work force attempt to deal with the dangerously damaged trees that naturally cling to the cliff face before they fall on to the narrow road. It was something to behold and a major engineering undertaking. Once through the obstruction, the road twists and turns, up hill and down dale. Slopes are clothed in temperate forest. There are clear blue lakes and fabulous vistas along the way. Sorry, no photos as we were chasing the clock and dare not stop - perhaps on the return journey.
It was an early call once more this morning. We had to be at ‘Jamie’s Whaling Station’ at 6.15am. We were taking an early morning boat trip entitled ‘Tofino Bear Cruise’ from the jetty. Dawn had broken and the sun was just coming up as we left. The water was as still as a millpond (thank goodness). This is an area particularly well suited to being viewed from the water. Temperate rainforest grows down to the water’s edge, clothing mountains, islands and islets alike. There are a myriad of small islands off the coast here and in fact all the way up the coast of British Columbia. The sea is blue and the sunlight sparkles off its surface. It is ravishing.
The wildlife appeared to also be on holiday and sightings were sadly rare, but the scenery made up for it. A pair of Bald Eagles sat on a couple of telegraph poles watching us curiously as we put to sea. We did later see one of them catch a large fish for breakfast -
stunning sight. The highlight for me was a group of about twenty sea otters feasting on their backs in their inimitable fashion. They are so gorgeous and it was very special to see them in the wild. Finally we did come across a Black Bear foraging on the shoreline of Meares Island. We watched as he industriously turned over the rocks looking for crustaceans. After a while he suddenly seemed aware that we were there and giving a disdainful glance over his shoulder ambled back into the forest. We caught a distant look
of another later on and apart from shoals of moon jellyfish here to breed in the sheltered waters that was our haul. We disembarked ready for breakfast and by the time we had eaten it felt like it was mid afternoon! Most of you know that we are not fans of the dawn rising, but this one was so worth it, even from me!!Okumaya devam et
Victoria, Vancouver Island
28 Haziran 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C
We arrived here on Vancouver Island this morning, after a five hour flight from Toronto, crossing three time zones. We are now eight hours behind the UK. The weather is warm and sunny and we are staying here for two nights. After the hustle and bustle of Toronto, Victoria is quieter and calmer and we have spent a relaxing afternoon wandering its streets around the picturesque harbour.
Tomorrow we intend to visit the world famous Butchart Gardens, just out of the town and I’ll let you know my thoughts.
Thursday 29 June
The Gardens were developed by Jenny and Robert Butchart from 1904 onwards and now cover some 22 hectares. Robert had bought the land to quarry limestone for his cement company and when the rock was worked-out his wife was left with the task of what to do with the remaining hole in the ground!. Robert was by now a wealthy man and the couple were very hospitable, so the idea of creating a family estate of beauty was appealing. They called their evolving home ‘Benvenuto’; Italian for welcome. Jenny set to work to make a garden out of the quarry, initially using a bosun’s chair to plant the crevices in the sheer walls with plants to soften them. Her logic was unassailable, as once the ground below was prepared and planted there would be no possibility of then clothing the limestone walls towering above. So the sunken garden slowly came to life in the style of the time. Huge amounts of soil and compost have been imported over the years and there is an irrigation system to die for. Eat your heart out those of us who are attached to a hose on a regular basis! Since then the Japanese, Rose and Italian gardens have been added and the whole spectacle is truly a sight for sore eyes.
It has been a beautiful sunny day and the garden is at its very best, the roses in particular.
Interestingly a great deal of use has been made of block bedding, which we rarely see
today, but was of course very much the fashion of the time. Water is everywhere and the colour schemes and clever use of plants has to be seen to be believed. Beautiful, mature, trees clothe the site giving welcome shade and there seems to be a microclimate for every genus of plant.
The whole garden is of course one giant microclimate, being sheltered within its quarry setting, which allows for the more tender plants to be grown. I could wax lyrically for hours, but will include as many photos as I can to give you a flavour.
The garden is now over 100 years old and attracts a huge number of visitors annually. One of the early invitees was our own Queen Elizabeth, as a young 12 year old, with her parents, the King and Queen.
The garden remains in family hands and is being lovingly maintained and developed in the Butchart tradition. If you are ever this way be sure to visit.Okumaya devam et
GezginThanks for reminding us of the happy memories of our visit there! Re living our trip through you, we loved the island . xx
Gezgin
How beautiful Dulcie. I’m glad to see your photos as although I intended to visit the gardens,it didn’t happen. I was too hot I fear!
GezginI think I wrote my comment in the wrong place! It’s all beautiful though xx
Niagara Falls
27 Haziran 2023, Kanada ⋅ 🌧 21 °C
It is a one and half hour drive from Toronto to Niagara and we left early on a tour in order to fit in as much as possible. The weather forecast was not favourable , but as we were to get drenched anyway it scarcely seemed to matter! You pass through the residential and industrial hinterland of Greater Toronto before hitting more green and pleasant lands. As you move closer to Niagara, agriculture comes to the fore. Market garden crops are prevalent, orchards of fruit trees and eventually mile upon mile of vineyards. For those of you who were not aware, the Niagara area has become a huge wine producing region. The soils here are very fertile due to the moraines left behind following glaciation. This part of the country was heavily glaciated some 23,000 years ago, during the last Ice Age. The Wisconsin Ice Sheet covered the area to the tune of several hundred meters thick and when the ice finally retreated huge depressions had been gouged in the bedrock that the meltwaters formed into the Great Lakes. The Niagara river resulted from more glacial meltwater running over the Niagara Escarpment. It was the relentless flow of this water that formed the iconic Niagara Falls and over the last 12,500 years the erosive force of the water has moved the line of the Falls to where it stands today.
Like many wonders of the world the Falls seem to creep up on you until you suddenly turn a corner and there they are! You are confronted with this immense volume of water cascading over the escarpment and it is truly an awe inspiring moment. The water and the resulting spray dominate wherever you look. The next move is to join the line for the trip on the Maid of the Mists in order to get up close and personal with the wall of water! You are kindly given a rather insubstantial poncho to supposedly protect you from getting wet. I can tell you it doesn’t work! As we set off the American Falls face us. A smaller straight line of water that sits on American soil; spectacular nonetheless. Moving down river we approach the massive horseshoe curve of the larger Canadian Falls. The noise is
deafening and you are suddenly drenched from all directions, plus the fact that at this point the heavens opened! Visibility is actually very poor and all you can see is this wall of water in front of you. The top and bottom are hidden in the mists and you are certainly aware of the power of nature and how small a human is in comparison. We staggered off the boat wet in places I would not care to mention and spent lunch steaming gently and gradually drying out. For ladies of mature years, this encounter does not leave one looking one’s best for the rest of the day! Thank God I knew no one!!
The immediate area around the Falls are rather tacky and not to be recommended, but as we moved further down the river bank, the gardens and parkland are indeed beautiful and more complimentary to a force of natural wonder. We stopped at the Table Rock to view closely the rapids approaching the Horseshoe Falls and to watch the water as it boils and cascades it’s way towards its doom. This was the highlight for me. The scene was mesmerising and the power of the water was brought home even more vividly. Swifts flew impossibly close to the maelstrom catching insects and a black and red cardinal sat displaying his plumage on a seemingly precarious branch over the water. The wildlife take it all in their stride. Further down the gorge we stopped to watch a deadly series of whirlpools forming continuously where the fast flowing river turns a corner. All around the flora is lush and green reflecting the humidity that results from the Falls in the shadow of the Niagara escarpment and I’m sure under a blue sky and sunshine it would look even better!
Our final call was to the picturesque town of Niagara on the Lake. Some serious real estate is on display and lots of small interesting shops the like of which have disappeared in most places. The ice cream parlour was to die for and obviously had to be sampled before the return journey to Toronto. A fascinating long awaited day.Okumaya devam et
Toronto
26 Haziran 2023, Kanada ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
The flight from Heathrow was smooth and trouble free. We arrived in Toronto to a sweltering hot summer day. The journey from Lester Pearson Airport took approximately 40 minutes to our downtown hotel and we learned a lot from our garrulous taxi driver, even if he couldn’t find the Hyatt we were booked into! Having seen no rain at home for some weeks, our first full day in Canada has broken the duck! Today was our only possibility to explore the city of Toronto and so we decided to take the Hop on Hop off bus to achieve our goal. As we have found in the past, they can be a bit hit and miss. This one was more miss than hit, but did the job, albeit in a rather ramshackle manner.
Toronto was founded by the French, as a trading post, on the shore of Lake Ontario, one of the five Great Lakes that straddle the American and Canadian border. The French were eventually driven out by the British in 1759. Great Britain retained control of British Canada following the loss of America after the Wars of Independence and named this rather parochial settlement Fort York, as it’s capital of Upper Canada. Initially it was predominantly a military garrison and was burned to the ground twice during its first 100 years, once by American raiders and secondly by Irish immigrants who became far too fond of the whisky produced in the ‘Distillery District’ with inevitable results! As a consequence, what you see now, is a flamboyant modern city full of glass and steel skyscrapers. There are pockets of tradition interspersed and particularly as you head up towards Yorkville, one of its prosperous and upper class residential areas, but there is little that dates prior to the Victorian era. It’s most famous piece of architecture is the CN Tower that gracefully tops everything else. Until 2010 it was the worlds tallest freestanding structure and on a good day affords fantastic views in all directions. We gave it a miss as the visibility was so poor. Casa Lama, the mansion on the hill, built by a self made man as a gift for his wife, is a rather bizarre attraction and there is the unusual Bata Shoe museum with a stiletto entrance to its shoe box shape, the attractive Royal Ontario Art Gallery, the Ontario Museum (a great mix of old and new) and the 1890s pink sandstone edifice of the Ontario Legislative Assembly. Theatre-land and culture are strong here and throughout trees and small parks are plentiful. The waterfront has been drastically remodelled, in common with many throughout the world, and gives easy access to Lake Ontario. Ferries ply backwards and forwards to the many small islands off shore. Again, we decided against as the weather had closed in, but I’m sure on a fine day the views back to the city on the lake would be spectacular.
It is difficult to sum up my feelings in one short day trip. The whole city is an immense building site making getting around difficult and perhaps giving Toronto a more negative vibe that it probably deserves. I suspect in five years time my thoughts would be different and I can see, as Mike and Mary will attest, this is an attractive liveable city.Okumaya devam et
The Golden Finale
10 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ 🌙 7 °C
We began our final day with a demonstration. No, not of the floral variety, but a ‘how to tie a turban’ dem from Jessie. Tony was volunteered and ended up with a very chic scarlet turban for our daytime temple visit. Between 5 and 7 metres of cotton fabric are used in every turban and to tie one is something of an art form. I had no idea there were so many versions, but I now know how individual a turban can be and some aficionados use considerably more fabric. It is mainly a male head dress, but some women also choose to wear it. Jessie was sporting a natty orange version today, as this is a celebratory colour for Sikhs and today is the Indian ‘Holi’ Colour Festival. As you may have noticed from last nights photographs of the little boys, it is customary to throw powdered paint at people in celebration. I had been warned to take something ‘disposable’ to wear in case of disaster! As a result this morning’s visit to the Golden Temple was particularly special and ultra busy. Everyone was out in their best clothes and there were some fabulous outfits on show. Indians are not frightened of colour and wear it with aplomb. We followed our route of last night and by day the contrast between the surrounding streets and the immediate Temple vicinity was even more marked. At least the rats had gone to bed! It seems incredible that the Temple is kept in such an immaculate state and yet all around people live in filth, throw rubbish everywhere and seem oblivious to the fact that they are existing in a health and hygiene nightmare. There seems to be little desire to clean anything up and it wouldn’t take much. They must have a very strong immune system. If you ask anyone about it the response is always ‘This is India’ with a shrug of the shoulders. The words convenient excuse come to mind? Sudhir, our guide feels that education is the key and it will gradually improve, but it could be generations.
By daylight the Golden Temple sparkled in the sun and there were people massed everywhere. The scene was a glorious riot of colour. Jessie took us on a tour of the kitchen, where up to
100,000 meals were to be served today, all prepared and served by volunteers. This is double the normal because of the Holi Festival. It is a very slick and organised system and no one is refused sustenance. There are four enormous halls where the people sit in rows on the floor and are served rice, chapati, dhal, a vegetable dish and water. A small amount only on a stainless steel divided platter. It dawned on me that this is less of a meal and more of a communion, which Jessie confirmed. We moved on to the kitchens, where the making of chapatis was in full swing. The dough is produced by a massive machine and volunteers shape and roll them out. This was our chance to get involved and so we did! I sat with one of my group on my right and two Indian ladies to my left. We all knew how to handle a rolling pin regardless of creed or nationality and I was pleased to have made a contribution. The chapatis were cooked over a huge griddle before heading out to feed the ‘five thousand’. Then there was the washing up! Oh my God, the racket, as the platters crashed against one another in the two 200ft long water troughs and thence into racks. Men washed up in one trough and women in the other. I was slightly concerned at how often the water was changed, but as we were not eating, let it pass!
We slowly made our way out of the kitchens, past people industriously chopping garlic, onions and multiple vegetables, into the sunlight to walk around the sacred pool one last time. To our amazement all age groups wanted to have their photographs taken with us and it was a slow but friendly path to the exit gate. On our way back to collect our shoes we came across three young guys covered head to toe in Holi powder paint. We laughed with them and took a photo, at which point Lesley and I were ‘attacked’; Lesley coming off a little worse than me, but it wasn’t disastrous, just fun. It has been a real honour to have visited the Golden Temple another of India’s world class monuments and a fitting finale.
Our day concluded with a visit to the Summer Palace of the last Maharajah of the Punjab, Ranjit Singh (all Sikhs have Singh in their surname). This is the man who paid for the 24 carat gold coating of the Golden Temple and the original owner of the Koihnoor diamond. The enormous diamond was originally set in the bejewelled Peacock Throne made for Shah Jahan in 1628, before being pillaged to Persia and passing through countless hands before being secured by the Maharajah as a spoil of war. There is some controversy here as to how it then came into the hands of Queen Victoria, but it is at least displayed for all to see in the Imperial Crown. . The summer palace and garden need a considerable amount of restoration, which is now being undertaken. Local lads were playing cricket on a dirt pitch - no wonder they can handle spin. You will see this everywhere and cricket is undoubtedly the national game. On our way back to the coach we came across an Indian version of a pop up lolly shop, if you can call it that and stopped to watch. A large block of ice is shaved on very sharp embedded blade, moulded into the lolly shape and then natural flavourings of lime, lemon and orange poured over it in syrup form. Ingenious and the equivalent of 20pence.
And so, inevitably we headed back to the hotel to commence the big pack up for the long journey home. It is hard to sum up the last two and a half weeks in mere words. Our group have been friendly and great fun and we have enjoyed sharing this experience together. The organisation has been faultless. India is a culture shock to the westerner and you need to observe, accept and not judge its centuries old traditions. It is a land of immense contrasts in every respect, with an ethos all of its own. Ninety five percent of marriages are still arranged, the caste system is still all encompassing and as a western woman it is hard to handle the inequality between the sexes. A woman still cannot attend her husband’s funeral. The senses are assaulted on every level. It is colourful, challenging, full of beauty, artistry, squalor and at times overwhelming. I can honestly say, this trip has been a risk worth taking: we have stayed well and loved every minute of it. I am so grateful to have had the chance to have just touched the surface of this fascinating country. There is seriously nowhere like India! Thank you Lesley for coming with me. Something so beautiful is always better shared.Okumaya devam et
Amritsar and the Golden Temple
9 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ☀️ 23 °C
Here we are after two and half glorious weeks in India at our final port of call, Amritsar. Our day started early, yet again, and we caught the 5.30 am train from Chandigarh to Amritsar, which is a 4 hr journey. Drinks and snacks are constantly offered, from tea and coffee, cold omelettes, vegetable patties, biscuits and crisps. Note that British Rail cannot manage a drinks trolly! I have to say I avoided everything bar the crisps, as they were outside my ‘safe’ category, but they were available. We alighted on to a heaving platform at Amritsar and slowly made our way out of the station accompanied by a couple of cows strolling along amidst the crowd. No one took a blind bit of notice, even when one of them anointed the platform in their honour!
The evening saw us depart for the evening ceremony at the Golden Temple. Amritsar is the centre of The Sikh religion which is approximately 500 years old and believes in equality between genders, kindness and charity to all and welcomes everyone, regardless of religion, to their holy temple. We travelled as far as possible by coach and then by mad rickshaw, to within walking distance. The streets are dark and thronged with people, particularly bearing in mind it is the Holi Festival tomorrow, so all Sikhs that can, wish to worship at the temple. It is unsurprisingly an enormous complex and you enter the inner sanctum through a arched gateway, barefoot and modestly covered, including the head for both men and women, via a shallow foot bath.The archway is deep and stepped and when you arrive at the top of the steps there before you glitters the 24 carat golden temple in its sacred pool. It is a quite unbelievable sight, especially lit up at night. ‘Jessie’ our guide (name too long and complicated to pronounce!) explained all that was going to happen and some of us stood in the holy water, whilst taking in the sight of the faithful at worship, some prostrate, others immersing themselves in the pool. There were beautifully decorated prayer rooms all around the waters edge, where elders were reading aloud from the holy scripture and the white marble that is everywhere underfoot is cool to the feet. On Jessies’s instruction we headed to the temple itself, to witness the parade of the original holy scripture (Sri-Gur Granth Sahib) to its place of rest for the night, (it is a four poster bed!) amidst much chanting and veneration. The temple itself is even more beautiful in reality than from photographs, the interior heavily decorated with gold and painted surfaces, golden doors, jewel coloured carpets and stunning chandeliers, over two floors. Again, to our surprise, we were allowed full access. The Sikh religion is certainly inclusive. To our amazement, once the Holy Book was put to bed for the night, out came the Brasso! I should explain that there are brass vessels, railings and handrails everywhere and volunteers set to with a will to clean any brass in sight. This is apparently a nightly task, as is the brushing and beating of the carpets. By the time we came to exit the temple complex and reclaim our shoes, pilgrims were bedding down for the night, in alcoves and anywhere they could find, directly on to the marble floor with a thin blanket covering. This is perfectly acceptable and they must be a hardy breed, as it cannot be comfortable. We returned to our hotel elated at having witnessed such a ceremony and with the prospect of more to come tomorrow.
Today was Lesley’s birthday and it was certainly a day with a difference. We had a glass of something sparkling ( not the best in truth) and had our photograph taken to mark the occasion
(again not the best, but at our age when is it !?).Okumaya devam et
The Milton Keynes of India!
8 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ☀️ 13 °C
Hari drove us back down to Chandigarh with his usual panache. We were now able to see the road and the surrounding countryside, which time and weather had denied us on our way up to Shimla. There are large sections of road undergoing reconstruction as I explained before. It was a real pickle, in part no road to speak of at all, traffic everywhere, dogs, pigs, cows and people and a policemen with a whistle attempting to direct operations! At one point, to our horror, a car came hurtling towards us going the the wrong way down the supposed road. Our driver deftly avoided the problem with an explosive ‘idiot’, but to be fair it isn’t the only time such a occurrence has happened! Only in India- this is not the place for a fly drive, unless one has cast iron nerves and lightning reflexes. Even on arriving In Chandigarh, where the roads are wide, tree lined avenues, the chaos remained. I would say the main roads were probably at least three lanes, but nothing is marked and the traffic is just a free for all. I found ‘eyes wide shut’ to be a useful aid!
Chandigarh is a new city, built as the capital of the Punjab, when the existing capital Lahore was annexed to Pakistan. Pandit Nehru, India’s first Prime Minister after independence, commissioned the city to be purpose built along modern lines. After a couple of false starts the Swiss/French architect Le Corbusier was appointed. He was famous during the post war period as part of the ‘brutalist’ group of architects responsible for the clean, modern, concrete lines of the 50s & 60s. Hence our guide’s likening Chandigarh to an Indian Milton Keynes. There are roundabouts galore and the city is built along a grid system and divided into sectors. No building is more than three storeys high and there is lots of green space, with walks, outdoor gyms etc and each sector has its own market. It was a new way of looking at communal living and certainly it would seem to have been a great success and adapted to the Indian way of life.
Our first port of call was The Chandigarh Rose Garden. It covers some 40 acres, has 32,000 plants and 825 species of rose. It was busy with people out enjoying the green space and roses, which were just coming into bloom. It was good to wander having been in a car for the last three hours or so.
Our final stop of the day was exceptional. You may remember Monty Don stopping here on his ‘80 Gardens around the World’ whistle stop tour. It is a Rock Garden created by Nek Chand, which he calls a Fantasy and I wouldn’t disagree. In the early 1950s he was seconded to Chandigarh to work on the city project. A huge dump site of discarded materials existed where the garden now stands. From 1957 to 1975 Nek would secretly spend his spare time in the evenings and nights creating sculptures from the leftovers and hiding them amongst the foliage. He created over 2000! They are now displayed to tremendous effect in the garden. In 1975 his secret life was discovered and the powers that be were initially not pleased and Nek was banned from the site. It was only later that the authorities realised what they had in the man and his creations and asked him to build a garden here.
Nek created a ‘rock’ garden for Chandigarh, the like of which you will have never seen in your life.
We had a first class young guide to show us around and explain the thoughts behind what we were seeing. The garden is created entirely out of recycled building materials, from concrete to coloured wires to plug sockets. A narrow path for the visitor to follow, weaves in and out of incredible features. Jaws dropped, I can assure you. The planting is almost entirely natural and minimal and redefines what a garden can be and my photos will give you a taste of what I mean. All I can say is we were totally bowled over and I declare Nek Chand to be a genius!Okumaya devam et
The Toy Train
8 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ☀️ 7 °C
Our prayers have been answered! The day dawned bright and clear, with scarcely a cloud in sight.
Once luggage and breakfast had been dealt with, everyone rushed outside with their cameras to capture the views that had proved so elusive yesterday. Here at last were the snow covered peaks of the Lower Himalaya that we had come to see. The views were indeed worth the journey required to get here. We departed Shimla in style from the World Heritage Shimla Station, on the world famous Toy Train. This was the brain child of the then Viceroy, Lord Curzon who felt it would be an immense logistical bonus to link his Summer Capital with the plains of Delhi and so the construction of the narrow gauge Khalkha-Shimla Railway began in January 1891. The plans had been laid as far back as 1847, but had stalled until Lord Curzon’s intervention. As you can imagine this was a hugely difficult line to build, due to its length (95.5 kms) altitude and terrain. The climate of course did not help. The line passes through 102 tunnels, 988 bridges,, including a spectacular gallery bridge No 541 near Kanoh and 917 curves, some as steep as 48 degrees. This is a masterpiece of Victorian engineering - yet another! They did, of course, have plentiful labour available, but also the vision and drive to complete the task. It was opened for passengers on November 9th 1903 by Lord Curzon himself.
Shimla Station sits at 6811 ft above sea level and is a beautiful, small, still largely Victorian building. The Indian Railway is as far as I can see a well run, staffed and efficient organisation, much as our own railway would have been originally. Generations of families still continue to work for Indian Railways and their dedication makes the difference. The Diesel engine and the couplings were being carefully checked over as we arrived on the platform to board. Originally, the train would have been pulled by a steam locomotive and occasionally still is, but only for more important types than us (Michael Portillo and his film crew for example!). However, we pulled out of the station on time, watched by the monkeys sitting on the iron railings. They had been very entertaining.
So began what has to be the most stunning rail journey of my life. The scenery has to be seen to be believed, with towering mountains, deep valleys, and verdant forests of pine and rhododendron, just coming into bloom. We were plunged into tunnels and emerged into bright sunlight and the ever spectacular landscape all around us. The train stops at little stations with intriguing names such as Summerhill and TaraDevi. Along the platform comes the ‘tea boy’ with paper cups tucked in his top pocket and his pre made large kettle of tea. You can buy a cup through the window for 10 rupees (about 8p). As you descend to the plains the countryside becomes noticeably drier, the pines and rhododendrons disappear to be replaced by warmer climate loving varieties and the odd cactus. What was a surprise was the constant high level of population in a landscape I would have expected to be largely devoid of people. Farming is the main occupation and here it is hay making time. I could see farmers high on the steepest of slopes wielding a scythe. The mountainsides looked almost patchwork in effect as they were clearly cut one way and then another according to the terrain. As we neared Kandaghat our destination, we passed over the Kanoh bridge and then the train curves away to the left enabling you to crane your neck out of a window and see the incredible viaduct you have just passed over. It is almost Roman in its construction and elegance, being constructed entirely in stone.
Finally, we reluctantly disembarked at Kandaghat to meet up with our drivers once more. We walked down a long ramp to the road below to await the convoy of 10 white Toyotas, who had made the journey from Shimla by road as we were on the train. They appeared round the bend, only to be stopped in their tracks by a large cow, who settled in the middle of the road and until she decided to move nothing could be done. According to Hari, if you are unfortunate enough to hit one, it is an instant jail sentence. To quote him “ This is India and everything is possible!”.Okumaya devam et
Shimla
7 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ❄️ 4 °C
The prediction was correct and there was a three hour delay on our flight to Chandigarh yesterday morning, which of course threw all the timings out. Lunch became high tea and our journey in a fleet of cars to Shimla had to be undertaken after dark. ‘Hari’ was our driver. A lovely young chap with pretensions to Formula One. He would be a shoe in. It rained hard for the full three and a half hours, but the pace never slackened, overtaking was commonplace, blind corner or not, as the road twisted and turned its way upward into the Himalayan foothills. I had been disappointed that we couldn’t enjoy the views, but before we had reached half way, I was relieved I couldn’t see the sheer drops, that I suspect were there from the twinkling lights below! We arrived here at the Oberon Cecil at 9.15pm and Hari was delighted to be the first car here and fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.
We became further aware of our geographical location this morning when it snowed during breakfast! It was freezing. The snow turned to rain and the mist and cloud rolled in and out, obscuring the fabulous views for which Shimla is famous.
The town is perched high on the mountainside and the air has that undoubted alpine quality, clean and crisp. It was the summer capital of The British Raj from May to October during its rule in India. It would take 45 days to make the perilous journey by horse, mule, cart and carriage from Calcutta staying at staging posts on the way. With the Viceroy and his officials, their families and the attending army would come all the paperwork necessary to run the Indian sub-continent. The East India company found this strategic village as it was then, in the 1830s, by assisting the local Maharajah to fight off the Nepalese. They realised what a superb trading position this was and gradually inveigled the Maharajah to grant them land to set up a Trading Post. It’s proximity to the Silk Route was a huge incentive and advantage. The British followed on and built their summer residences here over the next decade. I have been looking forward to exploring the old town I had read so much about. It is not what I expected. A Scottish architect by the name of Henry Irving designed the main buildings and our first visit was to The Viceroy’s Lodge. I did not expect grim and dour Scottish Baronial architecture, both in and out. This is repeated in all the major buildings, including the Town Hall and the Gaiety Theatre, the latter having welcomed some incredibly famous stars over the last 150 years. Our tour of the former Viceroy’s Lodge proved very interesting however, and gave a strong flavour of how life was lived out here in strict Victorian times. The meetings leading up to India’s independence after the Second World War were held in the library and a solution eventually found, which resulted in partition and the formation of the Muslim state of Pakistan. This is still a contentious issue today, together with the status of Kashmir. We saw documentIon, photographs and the room in which the treaty was signed before being formalised in Delhi. The building became the summer home of the Indian President after independence and is now a research college for post graduate students.
The Mall is the Main Street and the buildings reflect mock Tudor frontages. There is a bandstand and both a Presbyterian and Anglican Church. At the end of the Mall is Scandal Point, so named after the young couple who met here secretly. The Viceroy at the time was Lord Curzon and his daughter Alexandra fell in love with the local Maharajah and he with her. Marrying was of course out of the question, on both sides at that time and their only option was to elope, hence the scandal. Sadly, it did not end happily. They were found and separated; Alexandra was sent back to England in disgrace and never married. The Maharajah was presented with a suitable bride, but apparently never forgot the love of his life.
The British are famous for creating a home from home wherever they find themselves and on thinking about it, Queen Victoria had purchased Balmoral around this time and all thing Scottish and Baronial were very fashionable. It seems to me that the British establishment set out to create a Scottish Highland retreat in the foothills of the Himalayas, complete with names such as Craig Dhu and the like . It is quite extraordinary.
Unfortunately, the weather did not improve during the day and we were glad to retire to the warmth of the Oberoi Cecil. Tomorrow we are due to leave on the Toy Train back to Chandigarh. It is apparently a hard ride, but worth it for the views. I can only hope the weather clears a little so some of the journey is visible. I have purchased a set of thermals. It is amazing what you can find in unexpected places!
PS. We have come across several of these signs on our travels ‘The English Wine Shop’ and been perplexed, as we don’t produce much wine, let alone enough to export to India in bulk. Hari explained today, that it is a euphemism for a whiskey shop, which is very popular here. No doubt a hang over from the days of the Raj.Okumaya devam et
Delhi
5 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ⛅ 19 °C
Nowhere showcases the vast contrast that India represents more than its capital Delhi. Kolkata (Calcutta) was India’s capital city during the years of British rule, until King George V and Queen Mary visited and the Delhi Durbar was held in their honour. Every Maharajah in the country attended and the King/Emperor announced that the capital city was to be Delhi in the future. It is regarded as one of the best ever kept secrets in India, as it came as a complete surprise. All I can say is it would not happen today!! The British then set about creating New Delhi as a suitable seat of power for the sub-continent and invited the young architect Edwin Lutyens, together with Herbert Baker to design the new city. There are wide tree lined avenues and grand governmental buildings, including the seat of Parliament and the Viceroy’s residence of some 360 rooms, now the Presidential Estate. The architecture is a clever blend of Imperial with Indian influences and the whole effect is impressive and yet familiar to the British eye. The Presidential garden is open to the public for one month of the year and we were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. It is very parks and gardens, with lots of water, but an amazing riot of colour in true Indian style. There are wonderful roses, stocks, freesias, sweet peas, giant dahlias, hollyhocks, violas, tulips, antirrhinum, in fact all sorts of ‘English’ flowers that were astounding to see in an Indian setting, plus beautiful sub-continental counterparts, all of huge proportions!. It is the best garden we have seen thus far, but then perhaps it should be!
A pilgrimage to Raj Ghat, Mahatma Ghandi’s cremation site was de rigeur. It is movingly and simply marked with a low table of black marble, flowers and the eternal flame, surrounded by immaculate lawns and gardens. Obviously, it is a place of supreme importance to Indian citizens and there were many paying their respects to the Father of the Nation.
Old Delhi is not so comfortable to the western eye, but must be seen to appreciate the vast differences both across the country and this city of 22 million. We took a rickshaw ride through the alleys and could only pity the wiry ‘driver’ entrusted with pedalling Lesley and I through the area. It is dark, filthy and teeming with people, dogs, scooters and the occasional cow! In short it is a city within a city, with a life of its own. Amazingly, normal life of a sort is lived amongst these backstreets. Electrical cables are festooned like garlands overhead and the sky only just visible through them. There are shops of every description; fruit and vegetable carts, street food being cooked and eaten, flower sellers and the beautiful sari shops set amidst the grime and squalor. People appear cheerful despite the wretched conditions and I suspect would not take the prospect of change easily. I sense a deep tradition throughout India and an equally deep resistance to ‘improvement’.
Lunch was taken in an atmospheric Indian ‘Bazaar’ restaurant in the old quarter. It boasted a four poster bed converted into a table and chairs, a vintage car and a collectible juke box to name but a few decorative features!
The afternoon saw us visit Hunnaman’s tomb, a precursor to the Taj Mahal built some hundred years earlier. It is an impressive piece of Mughal architecture, without coming close to the Taj of course, but you can see the origin of design.
The day finished with a visit to the Sunder Nursery close by. This is in fact a garden of some 30 acres, which had fallen into disrepair. A huge amount of restoration has been undertaken, largely financed by The Aga Khan Foundation. There is still work to do, but it is looking beautiful and a great green space for the population to enjoy, which they clearly do.
As you can tell this was a long day, but it did give us an overview of this complex and fascinating city and it is fair to say everyone was tired on finally returning to our hotel around 6pm, but it is amazing what a restorative G&T can do! It was time to pack up once more and be ready to move on. Some friends are heading home at the end of a spectacular two weeks, but some of us are heading to the summer capital of the British Raj, Shimla. Tomorrow will be a long travelling day and we expect delays due to a storm of biblical proportions during the evening. We have witnessed a touch of the Monsoon according to Sudhir our guide. I will be back in touch from Shimla.Okumaya devam et
The Taj Mahal
4 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ⛅ 18 °C
Yet again, the alarm went off at 5o’clock for the obligatory visit to the Taj Mahal at sunrise and for once I get it. To come all this way and not see the eighth wonder of the world at the optimum time seems churlish. Perhaps I should explain a little about how this great mausoleum came into being, before going into raptures over its magnificence. In 1630 the Emperor Shah Jahan’s favourite wife died in childbirth at 39 years old and so desolate was he at her death, that he decided to build a tomb worthy of her memory, on the opposite bank of the river Yamuna facing the Agra Fort palace. This incredible feat involved bringing white marble from over 200 miles away and in total took one hundred thousand men twenty two years to construct. The mausoleum is set in a Paradise Garden, which is always rectangular and divided into four sections. Four ‘rivers’ which are usually rills/channels divide the Garden into four sections that represent the essentials of life; water, honey, milk and wine. Water, flowering plants, grass and trees are present in a variety of designs and it is no different in this case.
Shah Jahan designed the site in the Persian style of architecture, where balance and symmetry are supreme and this is one of reasons why the Taj Mahal is so pleasing to the eye. Everything is
perfectly balanced right to left and the perspective is so clever. All has been cleverly considered. Pre sunrise the building seems almost ethereal floating in the early morning mist.
You enter by the West Gate, which is a mix of sandstone and marble and a small foretaste of what is to come. Walking through the gate you are suddenly face to face with the Taj Mahal itself and it is breathtaking, stopping you in your tracks. As we were early, it was not too busy, but you still run the gauntlet of the ‘selfi’ snappers, who for some reason seem to think that they have a greater right than anyone else to pout and pose in prime positions- enough said, or I could be on a crusade! Approaching the mausoleum, you are struck by the peace of the scene and as you climb the steps to the entrance terrace you have the first opportunity to view the detail of the building itself. The white marble is stunningly decorated with carved cartouches of flowers, as we have seen before, and inlaid semi precious stone creating flower garlands within the marble. The artistry is mind blowing. To the left is a mosque built in the style of the west gate and to the right is an identical building, which serves no purpose, but to create the desired symmetry. Visitors are required to cover their shoes with paper ‘galoshes’ to protect the interior and understandably no photography is permitted. The interior is simple and yet not. It is octagonal in shape and the walls display a carved frieze of flowers, with large niches set into the walls, whilst above us soars a glorious white marble dome. A marble lace fretwork trellis surrounds the tomb. There are two arched openings perfectly aligned East and West as are all the entrances on the site. Again, there are stunning inlaid flowers on the surround and the tiny tomb itself. Shah Jahan’s wife was obviously petite in stature. Then appears the surprise. To the left, alongside her casket is a much larger version. Here lies the Shah himself, which was apparently not originally the plan. Obviously, it messes with the symmetry, but I guess we’ll forgive him, if he will forgive himself!
On returning to the outside, although cloudy, the sun is now up. The colours are sharper and clearer and the water glistens pure turquoise. I gather if you see the sun rise without the cloud cover, the effect on the building is even more startling.
I find it hard to put into words the effect this incredible mausoleum creates. It has to be the most magnificent and romantic gesture ever made by a loving husband to his wife. The feeling builds as you approach the Taj itself, but it is when inside that you really understand what this is all about.
There is a spiritual quality here that enfolds you as you enter the door. You can almost touch it and the Taj Mahal is undoubtedly a much deserved wonder of the world.
So what happened to the Emperor Shah Jahan following the death of his wife. Well, one can imagine that this building project consumed him for the next twenty two years and of course he had a country, court and family to occupy him. Succession is the normal situation i.e. the crown goes to the eldest son of the first wife. In Shah Jahan’s case this did not prove straightforward. The eldest son was a poet and there was concern as to his ability to hold the empire together, the second son had no interest in ruling, but was happy to remain a general in the army. The third son, Orensay, was a different creature completely. A strong army general and leader, he and others were concerned as to the state of the empire, should either of the other two brothers succeed their father. A deputation approached the Emperor with the idea of Orensay being declared his heir. Shah Jahan was sympathetic, but determined to stick with tradition. Orensay took matters into his own hands and in classical despot style, killed his brothers and imprisoned his father in the Palace under house arrest, wresting power for himself. Shah Jahan lived out the rest of his days, unable to visit his wife’s tomb and only able to view it from the terrace of the palace, from across the river Yamuna. At least his son allowed him to rest in peace, alongside his beloved wife.Okumaya devam et
Road to Agra
3 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C
Yet another bright (?!) and early start. The canters delivered us to the local railway station at Sawai
Madhopur Jn - rather apt we thought. The enormous train arrived on time (British Rail eat your heart out) , our reserved seats were ready and waiting and I’m tapping away to you seated in comfort, lots of leg room with the Rajasthan countryside flicking past at a rate of knots. We ate our packed breakfast on the way and I think of Michael Portillo and his various Indian train journeys! After two and a half hours we arrived at Bharatpur our destination and were met by our driver and the coach, who had departed the night before with our luggage to make the train journey easier. Incidentally ‘pur’ means city. We travelled for about an hour to Fatehpur Sikri another world heritage site. Here we hit traffic. There had been a Sufi Muslim festival further north and coach loads of pilgrims were returning to Delhi and were of the same mind as us, stopping off at Fatehpur Sikri. You have never seen anything like it. Dozens of coaches loaded to the gunnels with people and luggage, clothes hanging over and out of the windows. There were cooking pots, brilliantly coloured toy horses, children’s bikes and toys, bags of presumably more clothes, all precariously resting in the shallow luggage rack on top and amongst it all more people, with not a seat belt in sight!
When we eventually made it to Fatehpur Sikri we found an ancient city built entirely of local red sandstone and in an amazing state of preservation. The Mogul Emperor Akbar 111 built this city in the 1570s. He considered this a lucky site, as it was here that it was predicted that he would be blessed with a long awaited son and he was. Akbar spent nine years building the city and only held court there for twelve years before abandoning it for Agra, due to a lack of water. There was no evidence of a lack of water today, as the gardens were immaculate, full of brightly coloured flowers and you could have played bowls on the lawns. It was a huge and complex city, beautifully carved on many surfaces and apparently painted and hung with lavish textiles everywhere. One can only imagine the hustle and bustle of the court in its heyday. The Emperor himself was Muslim, but designed the buildings in a mix of Mogul and Hindu architecture and regularly held public audiences with the Hindu population, as he wished to appear a benevolent potentate.
After lunch our destination was Agra, with the plan to visit the Agra Fort another Mogul palace complex built over 90 years from 1565 by the the same Emperor and his successors.
It is all world heritage sites today! This is an equally spectacular building on a similar scale. There are a lot of similarities to the Amber Fort at Jaipur, as it was modelled on the Agra Fort. The details are quite incredible. Again water effects were centre stage; water being hauled from the nearby river by a system of water wheels, men and buffalo 24 hours a day.! The water was held in a huge reservoir high in the roof, before being released by little by little to feed all the rills, pools and fountains. Unfortunately, this is not recoverable, but it is clear what a fantastic effect all this water would have had. The palace ceilings were originally intricately painted and the pattern then given to the carpet makers and an identical carpet made for the floor in each room . This was the ultimate in interior design here in the 1600s. Richly embroidered fabrics covered doorways and were hung about the walls. Can you imagine how opulent it would all have been?
After an exhausting day we have finally arrived at our Agra hotel and I finally have a decent internet connection, hence I can upload the latest postings. If I am out of touch for a few days this will be the reason why!
One interesting coincidence today at the Agra Fort. We were waiting to enter and I glanced left and there was a friend from my Flower Club. I knew she was coming to India around the same time, but how about same time, same place ?! The old adage ‘it is a small world’ fits!!Okumaya devam et
Ranthambhore National Park
1 Mart 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ☀️ 27 °C
We arrived at Sawai Villas, our hotel for the next two nights, after a four hour journey from Jaipur.
It was an interesting drive out into the countryside of Rajasthan. The hinterland surrounding Jaipur is surprisingly green and clearly very fertile. Small farms abound and three main crops of wheat, potatoes and guava are grown. Parts of the state are desert, but not here. The population appear in better health and there is evidence of much new building, which is encouraging. There are plenty of ruins also!
Our hotel is less than a year old and fabulous. We were greeted with sitar music, a garland each and a floor petal picture of welcome in the foyer. The rooms are beautiful and boast an indoor and outdoor shower, all arranged in blocks around a glorious landscaped pool.
Lunch was accompanied by lychee and lemongrass tea (delicious) and Lesley has set off to visit the old Rathnambhore fort set high above the park, dating from the 9th century and another world heritage site. Sadly, I have had to miss out, as I know the operated knee will not cope with the 300 steps up and down. I await her return with bated breath and will pass on her thoughts and here they are: there were indeed 300 steps, lots of very inquisitive Langur monkeys, temples, ruined palaces and fabulous views of the surrounding park.
The 5 o’clock rising this morning was unwelcome, but normal for this kind of activity and we were off on our first game drive of the day just after six, before the sun was up. We were driven in ‘canters’ large open top shake, rattle and roll conveyances that afford a good view but minimal comfort! The morning drive was on route 4 out of 5 different routes. Your route is prescribed by the park authorities, and it was up hill and down dale, through the forest and around a beautiful lake. Initially all was very quiet- can’t say I’m surprised, even the animals had more sense than to be up. As the morning progressed so did the variety of wildlife. Crocodiles appeared to bask on the lake shore, deer, both Spotted and Sambhar, large antelope ‘Bluebul’, mongoose and the bird life was prodigious; too many to mention. We were back at the hotel in time for a late breakfast, a few hours rest, lunch and then off again, this time on route 3. This was a stunning landscape and the romantic side of India, as you would imagine it, in your dreams. There were classically beautiful ruins scattered along the route, often sited by one of the many picturesque lakes, crags rise above you and when you stop the silence and peace is absolute, only broken by the sound of the birds and wildlife. This is Kipling’s India; an experience to be savoured and a reminder that this entire area was once the hunting estate of the Maharajah of Jaipur. Deer were everywhere, langurs cavorting around in family groups and peacocks with their mournful cry. A hare appeared out of nowhere, a solitary wild boar snuffling about at the waters edge and more glorious birds. Lesley and I were in our element. Of course the major reason people throng to Ranthambhore is the prospect of seeing its most famous resident and top predator. There are some 45 tigers in the park, plus cubs and we realised that the chances of seeing one would be slim. They are elusive creatures, but our guide did say that we were travelling through the territory of a mother and two cubs. At the very end of the drive we passed a park jeep who told Surinder that a tiger was in the forest a short distance ahead. Our driver put his foot down and if there had been a roof on our vehicle, heads would have hit it! We arrived at the resting place of the tiger together with the world and his wife and initially it was difficult to pick her out amongst the bush, but there she sat staring at us, less than 15ft away. It was a quite unbelievable moment and one I shall never forget. She was incredibly well camouflaged, her stripes blending in with the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The attendant crowd watched in awe. I can only liken it to an audience with a Maharajah in full jewelled regalia. Eventually, she yawned in boredom, stood up and with a flick of her tail stalked off into the thick bush, clearly tired of this mass of excited humans. Photographs came out with only a degree of clarity. The best in our group was from a lady who had bought a new 1Phone with its updated camera. Lesley and I count ourselves as unbelievably fortunate to be able to see a wild tiger in all her majesty and our visit to Ranthambhore was complete.Okumaya devam et
The Amber Fort
29 Şubat 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ☀️ 18 °C
It was an early start this morning as Sudhir, our local guide, wanted to beat the crowds to the Amber Fort. You can see the outline of the building perched on the mountain top, high above the Pink City, but it is not until you get up there that the sheer scale of the ancient city is apparent.
This was the original capital of the Maharajas of Jaipur until the court outgrew the site and
Sawai Jai Singh 11 decided to built a new city in 1727 on the plain and Jaipur was born.
The coach could only take us so far and we disembarked to the sound of a snake charmer’s call and there was a cobra transfixed in its basket. Thankfully, it scarcely moved! Here we could view the palace complex over the lake, sitting on its mountain top. It is surrounded by a sixteen kilometre wall for protection, which together with the water and sheer cliffs would have proven pretty effective I should think. Transport for the final section is by jeep and at one time used to be by elephant, but not any longer. Health and safety has apparently reared its head even here, which is hard to believe.
We rocketed up the final narrow track, hanging on for dear life, to arrive at the Amber Fort. Through the main gate is a huge courtyard and elephants were here giving rides to those who would do so. We progressed up the steps to the upper courtyard and the Palace itself. Before entering the palace we explored the Hall of Public Audience, where the Maharajah met his subjects and officials to deal with any problems that had arisen. The facade of the Palace itself is beautifully decorated with hand painting and we progressed through to the inner courtyard where sits the Hall of Private Audience where visiting ambassadors and high ranking officials and friends were received. This is one of the major attractions of the Fort. It is known as Sheesh Mahal or Glass Palace and is constructed of white marble. The walls and ceilings are covered with intricate patterns inset with glass, appearing silvery from a distance. There are superb cartouche carvings of plants at intervals and the whole effect is spellbinding. The Maharajah had up to twelve wives at any one time, clearly a busy fellow; each wife having her own apartment in the wives quarter. They could only view the outside world in the form of the courtyard through the latticed wall high up on the upper walkway and numbers 1,2 and 3 wives were expected to be at their allotted windows to welcome their husband home at the appropriate time!!
The view of the surrounding lake from this high up was glorious, as was the inner courtyard garden that we could now look down upon. It was very similar to an English knot garden, with the addition of fountains and running water, alas no longer working.
We departed for our lunch stop as the crowds were beginning to build and we forgave Sudhir’s insistence on an early start. The hotel we stopped at for lunch was opposite another beautiful lake on the outskirts of Jaipur and we had a very good view of the now abandoned summer palace, sitting in the middle of the lake. One can only imagine what it must have been like in it’s heyday.
The afternoon was devoted to shopping of one sort and another; block printed fabrics, stunning carpets and jewellery. For a group of mainly ladies this was a popular and interesting couple of hours. The techniques involved with all three were demonstrated and fascinating.
And so we have come to the end of our first week in Jaipur and we move on tomorrow to Ranthambhore National Park. A total contrast, but it will be good to see the rural side of Rajasthan.Okumaya devam et
Elephantastic
28 Şubat 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ☁️ 30 °C
Lesley and I have had a complete change of scene today, by visiting an Elephant sanctuary.
It is set just outside Jaipur and a driver took us and brought us back. We passed right through the middle of the old city, which was thronged with people and vehicles in every direction. Progress was slow, but it did enable us to gaze with fascination on everyday Indian life. By the end of the day there is rubbish everywhere. No one seems to think it would be a good idea to tidy up or take it home, but apparently it is collected from the streets overnight. We found this hard to believe, but it was in fact the case as we saw this morning. Please don’t run away with the idea that it was pristine first thing, just a slight improvement!
We encountered several weddings and when I asked whether it was usual to have weddings midweek, our driver replied that there was no particular day, but that the couple would consult an astrologer who would advise as to the most auspicious day for their union. This is clearly a good day for many.
On arriving at the sanctuary we were warmly welcomed and introduced to five female Asian elephants. We were to look after Simpha. She is forty six years old and brought up by the family who runs the farm. They have twenty four elephants at the moment, some are theirs and others have been rescued and they have taken them in. We started by getting up close and personal! Elephants have poor eyesight and can only see 20-25 yards ahead, but their hearing and sense of smell is acute. We were encouraged to stroke and talk to her, which would enable her to get to know us. Her mahout told us that by the end of the afternoon she would be our true friend and if we were to return five years later, she would know us. Elephants are very intelligent animals and have a prodigious memory. It was then feeding time and we fed her sugar cane. You have to place the cane on to the tip of her trunk with the word ‘lei’ which means ‘take it’. She will then carefully manipulate it to the right angle before putting it in her mouth and crunching away.
If you are a bit slow with delivery, she will let you know with a rumble! Feeding time over, it was time to paint her with vegetable paints. She stood very still and let us do this and we painted a flower garland down her trunk. It was no Leonardo, but sufficed. Then came bath time - yes, here is where we get soaked we thought. We had taken a change of clothes just in case, but it was not needed. A hose was produced and her first requirement was a drink and what a drink. You pour the water into the end of her trunk and it disappears miraculously upwards. I guess when full, she pulls her trunk away and shoots the water into her mouth. The trunk holds about 10 litres of water and we did this at least 10 times - some drink! We then hosed her down and scrubbed where we could reach. A large bowl of water sat in front of her and we kept expecting her to spray us any time, but Simpha was a complete lady and behaved impeccably. Once clean we took her for a walk . She needs to walk a minimum of 15kms daily, but we only did 2! It was then time to say goodbye to our new friend, thank the staff and return to our hotel.
It was a fascinating insight into the world of the Asian elephant. We learned a lot and consider it a real privilege to have spent some time with Simpha, one of the iconic animals of India.
As a postscript, tonight, a wedding procession passed our hotel and we rushed out to look. The bridegroom was in the middle of the throng beautifully dressed and mounted on an equally fabulously dressed white horse. It I’d customary for him to approach the bride’s family in such a fashion on the big day. It was a joyous end to a special day.Okumaya devam et
WAFA
27 Şubat 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ⛅ 27 °C
It has been the opening day of the World Flower Show today and by the time we left at 6pm we were flowered out! The show is set in and around the Diggi Palace in a smart suburb of Jaipur.
Well, smart by Indian standards that is. It was beautifully set out, air conditioned in the halls, the sun shone and the temperature was steady at a pleasant 75 degrees. We were surrounded by bright jewel like colours in flowers, fabrics, furniture, signs and the Indians themselves of course, flitting about like brightly coloured butterflies. It was something of a gathering of the flowery clans, in that I saw lots of people I knew, both from the UK and across the world.
The competition was of a high standard and there was lots to admire and examine. As ever, there was the usual discussion over incomprehensible judging decisions and there was a large Indian Bazaar set out full of tempting things to buy. Perhaps luckily, I had forgotten to top up my purse from the safe, with a consequence that my buying power was severely restricted. Some of my readers might consider that a good thing!
I could wax lyrical about this flower and that, my design and technique favourites and so forth, but rather than take things too far for the uninitiated, I will include a few photos instead.Okumaya devam et
Trumpism even here!
25 Şubat 2020, Hindistan ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C
Yesterday was a somewhat more civilised start at 9.30am and we headed for The Albert Hall Museum, built in 1887 again to commemorate the visit of the Prince of Wales. We were surprised that this did not refer to his father, but then remembered that King Edward was in fact named after his father, but took the name Edward on ascending to the throne. The museum is a magnificent structure on approach, a fanciful mix of marble and sandstone, with cupolas, minarets and arches, layered like a wedding cake. Sadly, it was not possible to enter as had been planned by the company two years ago, as the building was unexpectedly closed, in case President Trump or his delegation happened to drop by! So trumped in more ways than one!! This caused some consternation amongst the guides, as you can imagine and we waited whilst alternative arrangements were made. Eventually it was decided to move on to our second port of call Sisodia Rani Ka Bagh, which basically means the orchard or gardens of Queen Sisodia. She was the wife of the First Maharajah of Jaipur, who built the original city and whilst he was at it created a summer palace and paradise garden for his favourite wife, in the hills outside the city, for her relaxation and contemplation. Some wives have all the luck! It is a beautiful setting, again incongruously surrounded by rubble and rubbish and at its peak must have been spectacular with its lawns and rills and fountains. As is the custom with a Paradise Garden, it is divided into four sections divided by the waterways and plated with palms, roses and frangipani. Gardeners were working, weeding and mowing the lawns. It is clearly irrigated, as it is surprisingly green, however sadly the attempts to restore the water system have not been successful, as the palace itself would have to be dug up to achieve it. Lunch followed at a polo club. India of course introduced polo to the British in the time of the Raj.
After lunch we visited ‘The Jantar Mantar’ a nineteenth century astrological park also built by The First Maharajah, Jai Singh 11. He had a ferocious interest in astronomy and the park is quite something in its scientific detail, particularly bearing in mind how early it was constructed. It is now a world heritage site and quite unique.
The day finished with a visit to a local ‘bazaar’. This is basically the high street of shopping. The roads are rutted and crammed; crossing them means taking your life in your hands. The advice of our guide is that you step off and keep going and the traffic will stop. It’s a concept that requires a degree of faith and a lot of courage. We are getting used to it. The shops are little shacks selling everything from shoes to jewellery to household goods to clothing. You never pay the price asked. The plan is to suggest below half and negotiate from there. It was hilarious. We were looking for some fabric for Lesley’s daughter and in truth could not really see what she needed. You are enticed into the shop and all sorts of cloths are brought out and then the bargaining begins. As we did not find the ideal piece, we were not bothered and shopkeepers chased us down the street reducing the price as we went. Harrods it isn’t, but I think we have the hang of it fo another time!
Today has been our quiet day (yes, it was certainly needed). We had a walk up the road to the nearest ATM, which I had been to the other day and I took a couple of others on this occasion. It is hard to explain what it is like around our very grand Haveli. The street it is on is manic and a mecca for all things auto; tyres, mechanical parts, lubes, and exhausts to name but a few. It’s rather a shame it could not be clothing from our point of view! What pavement there is is strewn with men sitting, sorting out cars and generally going about their business - very slowly from what we could see. We were of intense interest to them and are in general it seems. I have lost count of the number of times we have been stopped and asked for a photograph with a local. Yes, us, two old girls of dubious attraction these days. Wonders will never cease.
The sides of the road are dusty and covered in piles of rubble, motor bikes, cars, trucks, discarded
motor parts and general detritus. The traffic streams past, horns ever honking, in a seemingly never ending stream. You walk on the edge of the road because there is nowhere else to go and keep your wits about you believe me. We made it to the ATM and back in one piece and in the middle of all this chaos if a simple arch with a small sign stating Alsisar Haveli. It is not an auspicious entrance and you could have no idea of the grandeur that lies through that arch.
We managed to have a relaxing massage in the spa this afternoon and visited an enormous Hindu temple this evening at sunset for its end of day service, which was an interesting experience, surrounded by the faithful and it seemed a suitable finish to a peaceful day.Okumaya devam et
First Impressions
24 Şubat 2020, Hindistan ⋅ 🌙 16 °C
I have long held the ambition to visit India and in particular Rajasthan and have to keep pinching myself to believe that Lesley and I are actually here. It’s quite difficult to know where to begin after our first day, so I guess the beginning is the place to start! We arrived here in Jaipur late last night after a long and tiring journey. Our hotel, Alsisar Haveli, is a converted Maharaja’s palace and as exotic and ornate as you might imagine. There are some 35 such establishments in Jaipur as the old ruling families find ways to diversify and keep their ancestral homes alive.
Despite only a few hours sleep, we were up and out by 7.30 am to catch the flower market at its peak. On the way, we stopped to view the Palace of the Winds, a world famous pink sandstone edifice, which to my surprise is beside a busy road. Sadly, it is only a facade for a more mundane building and has some 350 screened windows, for the ladies of the family to look out on the the scene below in privacy! The flower market is held within the walls of the old city and we entered through one of the main gates, the East or Sun Gate. There is a west gate known as the Moon gate and many other smaller entrances beside. The flower market was a complete assault on the senses; perfume, colour, people, monkeys, noise and surrounding ramshackle buildings, all in one glorious kaleidoscope. The flowers are mainly in head form, for making into garlands as offerings at the many temples. We watched both ladies and men making them up deftly and with a great eye for colour. It was almost more than our tired brains could assimilate, but what a beginning.
We wandered on to the fruit and vegetable market, which was equally fantastic. The produce, both fruit, vegetables and flowers are gathered in the early hours of the morning 365 days a year and brought in daily for the public to buy. The selection and quality is astonishing. Ladies wander by with enormous bundles balanced on their heads (great posture), men are chattering incessantly (well they would), handcarts full of wares push past and a barber is wet shaving a client on the side of the path and so it goes on. Everything you could imagine and more.
From there we walked the streets to meet our coach. You are accosted by a jumble of smart buildings, temples, telephone wires, ruins, sacred cows and the odd pig. Scooters whip past you with whole families piled on top. Chaotic would not be too extreme, but it is also lively, friendly and not at all intimidating.
Our next stop was the Citi Palace, home of the last ruling Maharaja of Jaipur. The first Maharajah built the old city as his new capital between 1727-48. The family still live in the adjoining Moon Palace, but the head of the family can no longer call himself Maharaja according to modern Indian law. The palace is out of this world architecturally and decoratively. Like all of the old city it is painted saffron pink, hence the moniker ‘Pink City’. This came about due to the visit in 1867 of the then Prince of Wales, the future Edward V11. A ‘Durbar’ (Council meeting) was held to decide how best to welcome the Prince with suitable aplomb and the decision taken to paint the whole of the city pink. It certainly created the desired impression and it has been this way ever since. When Edward ascended to the throne, the Maharaja was invited to the coronation and set off to attend with his large retinue and two huge silver flagons of Ganges water. These were specially transported, for the Maharaja’s drinking water as he flatly refused to contemplate drinking ‘Thames water’! These are the largest silver vessels in the world made from one single sheet of metal, with no joins. They are on display in glass cases and the thought of moving them anywhere is quite mindboggling.
We wandered around this huge exalted complex and found ourselves in the Peacock courtyard.
It is very beautiful and has four superb peacock doorways to depict the four seasons and has to be seen to be believed. Having admired the textile museum, which was crammed full of glorious costumes and locally made fabric, we went to met our coach and were driven through teeming ever narrower streets until arriving quite unexpectedly at Samode Haveli for lunch. This is an oasis of calm and tranquility hidden, in plain sight, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the old city. Here are beautiful gardens full of flowers and plants. There is a luxurious swimming pool and outdoor lounging courtyards full of running water, fountains and greenery. This is another Maharajas palace full of heavily decorated rooms and now operating as a hotel.
Lunch was really good and my preconceived notions of Indian cuisine are changing rapidly!
After lunch we were taken by tuk tuk across town to the site of the filming of the Exotic Marigold Hotel Series. We careered down backstreets with all of life being lived out in the street. It was a barmy, white knuckle, but exhilarating ride. The traffic is utterly mad. They come from all directions, weaving in and out like lunatics, horns blaring and how there are not constant collisions I’ll never know. I suspect viewed from above it would like a intricately choreographed group dance! As a driver you certainly need incredible reflexes. The owner of the Haveli used in the filming is a very tall, retired, distinguished Indian Army Brigadier. He and his wife were charming and very hospitable, conversing all the time in perfect English with little accent and it brought our first day in India to a lively and modern close. A slice of India both ancient and modern has been offered up and absorbed with fascination. We headed back to the tuk tuks to retrace ours steps back to the coach and ultimately our hotel. It has been a mind blowing day and my mind is reeling, but in a thoroughly good way. Roll on tomorrow!Okumaya devam et
Santa Barbara
23 Eylül 2019, Amerika Birleşik Devletleri ⋅ ☀️ 27 °C
It is winding down time, as our California journey draws to a close and we are trying not to rush about too much and take things easier.
The final day in Cambria was spent exploring the little town, walking the beach (great driftwood - if only!), watching the antics of the harbour seals, visiting a really good Friday farmers market and walking to the Sea Chest, the seafood restaurant not far from our hotel. The sunset was again world class and our time in this beautiful neck of the woods was regrettably finished.
Saturday was for moving on to our final port of call, Santa Barbara. It was about a two and a half hour drive through miles of market garden crops, before hitting the more barren mountainous slopes guarding the coast. We stopped at a little town called Solvang, commonly billed as the Danish capital of America. We had not planned a visit, but knew it was on our way and had heard people discussing it. The buildings are constructed in Danish style and national dress is prominent, plus food and drink redolent of Denmark. There is King Frederick Street and a replica of the Little Mermaid on her rock in Copenhagen Square. Peter’s main concern was to find a Danish Pastry shop which we did pretty quickly. The major problem was to choose one from the many varieties on offer. There was of course lager galore, people in Viking helmets, entertainment, including axe throwing(!) and a parade later in the afternoon. As you can imagine the small town was heaving. It was a good break, but we escaped before the promised parade shut the town down. I do find it a strange concept that American citizens several generations later, need to recreate a country most cannot remember, or have ever visited. There are other examples up and down the country and in conversation, almost the first thing an American will ask you is, ‘where do you come from’? Of course, a large proportion of the population came here to escape tyranny and in particular religious persecution and so often emigrated as whole villages. Everyone is an immigrant of one type or another and roots are important. Consequently, nationalities hold on to their old way of life, whilst adapting to modern America, which one often forgets is a very young country.
We arrived in Santa Barbara mid afternoon and the temperature had climbed to the high eighties. It is a much larger town/ small city and dubbed California’s Riviera. It was one of the early towns founded by the Spanish and has a ‘mission’ complex and Presidio which were headquarters of the church and the ruling military respectively. It is shielded inland by the Santa Ynez Mountain Range and still has a very distinctive old Spanish feel. In 1925 the town was virtually destroyed by a strong earthquake and the decision taken to rebuild it exactly as it had been. The Old Courthouse is the oldest building still standing, dating from 1786. It remains the working court for the area and is beautifully decorated with murals and original brightly coloured tiles. It was open today and has a viewing tower, from which one can see all over the surrounding area. Again this is a very green city, with lots of trees, particularly palms and the Harbour and Fisherman’s Wharf are very attractive, sitting on its gently curved bay. This is still a working fishing port and you can buy fish and seafood direct from the boats if there at the correct time. Trails lead all over the town and surrounding country and I can see, like Cambria, this is also a lovely spot to live. It has character and community and interestingly is a totally non smoking town in any public building or on the street. I have yet to see anyone smoking or vaping. Incidentally, vaping is heavily criticised here in the US and is considered as dangerous as smoking itself.
Tomorrow is our final day and we plan to spend it on the Old Trolley Bus Tour, which has been highly recommended. Again it can be hopped on or off and I suspect we will learn a lot. We hope to take a closer look at the Old Mission (well rebuilt, as the original was destroyed in the earthquake) as we gather it is obligatory to do so! It will then be time to repack the suitcases for the last time and head home on Tuesday.
So, what is our overall impression of the snapshot of California we have taken over the last four weeks. We have driven close on 2000 miles and seen some incredible scenery, which to be fair is our main interest. Death Valley, Yosemite, Napa Valley, the Big Sur and Monterey Peninsula Coast are all world class. We have loved some of the smaller towns and perhaps the only slight question mark would be the large conurbations, of which San Francisco and Las Vegas were the largest we visited and really that is due to the throng of people and traffic. The extreme corporate ethos and wall to wall concrete we could probably live without, but it it has been fascinating to explore. The people of America remain as friendly, well mannered and helpful as we have always found them to be. If you are stuck and unsure what to do next, there will always be someone who will come to your aid unbidden. We can learn a lot from that approach and I will endeavour to follow it as my California lesson learned!
Au revoir everyone and see you soon.Okumaya devam et
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