Like the song goes, "I've been places..." Ok, so there's no song like that but it would have been a nice song. My current fave singer Nelly Furtado could have sung it. Well, anyways, I've been a few places and I've decided to write this feature or something in the hope that it mildly amuses you in a non-patronizing way. My reminisces in a non-chronological order.
Amsterdam is a delightful city. My friend and I stayed in a hotel overlooking the sex shops. We fell asleep shutting our ears to a brawl and woke up to people singing "Wonderwall". It's tradition in Amsterdam to throw old bicycles into the canals. Oh, we can do that here too, you might say. But we would not want to burden Onyx with that additional task of dredging the canals as they do in Amsterdam.
In Madrid, we went to a nightclub to see Flamenco dancing and got into an argument with a Palestinian plastic surgeon based in Jeddah about my country. Without so much as a by-your-leave he told an American-Vietnamese plastic surgeon (What's with plastic-surgeons and flamenco dancing?) that India sends children to race camels in the middle-east. What about Palestinians in Jeddah who bet on them, I ask you! Searched in vain for vegetarian food in Madrid. Amsterdam is more progressive that way. They have vegan restaurants. Paris was superbly romantic. Highly recommended for a visit with the significant other. And Cologne... well, I can't tell you much about Cologne because I went there to be useful at the International Food Fair. But I can tell you about Haiku.
My friend and I land in Cologne. The taxi drops us off at the Gandhi guest house. We try not to feel pain as we look at the small flight of stairs that lead up to the house. We've traveled non-stop some 17 hours and have eight pieces of baggage between us. (And no, that's not because we are women, it's because we are participating in a fair!) I ring the bell and a very tall, young man with tattoos, an ear-ring and no hair appears. I'm thinking Nazi skinhead. He lets out a volley of German, siezes two suitcases and flies up the stairs. We follow weakly and are greeted by a seemingly endless winding staircase. The skinhead waves out cheerily for us to come up to the third floor. (I am not going to recount our painful trips with the luggage. The skinhead took the lightest pieces up and then pretended to arrange things in the room.) The room was largish, had comfortable looking beds, a kitchennete and a bathroom with no door! I collapse with laughter. Skinhead's name is Haiku. Did you think this was going to be about Japanese poetry?
Another friend and I went to Rajasthan recently. Actually it was only Jaipur, but you must admit Rajasthan sounds better. Jaipur is a small, pink city. And, who doesn't know that. I can give you some inside information on Jaipur. Shopping is very well-organised. There are basically four main shopping areas - Bapu Bazaar, Jowari Bazaar and two others, the names of which I forget. To shop you need to know Hindi and you should be able to haggle. If you are a compulsive, obsessive, shopper of knick-knacks, equip yourself with a good pair of shoes, shades and water. For thrills, take a ride on a cycle-rickshaw - rickety contraptions that have been designed without a thought to the human behind. Lassi at any one of the lassi shops is a recommended pick-me-up. Beware of auto-drivers who offer to take you around Jaipur for 300 bucks. For sightseeing, a tourist car is preferable to the ITDC organised buses, which fail to conduct the service on a whim. And if you get to stay at the Madhuban guesthouse in Bani Park there's nothing like it. Also don't miss Maharaja Somename-or-the-Other's shorts on display at the City Palace.
In London, I was at the Tate Art Gallery admiring the work of Constable. Suddenly I spied something shimmering at the corner of my eye. I turned. Walking hand-in-hand were a man and a women identically attired. Both were bald, had on heavy make-up complete with mascara, blue eye-shadow, nail-polish and ripe red lipstick, red stillettos, golden clutch purses and shiny golden capes trimmed with fur. Boy, do I love the world. Never ceases to amaze me!
