Sometimes when the heat just became too much, I headed back to my room, turned on both the fan and the air conditioner and picked up a book. After I few pages, I found myself nodding off but hey, I wasn’t the only one was I? Continue reading Afternoon nap time
On my first trip to India, there were no imported cars. It was India’s Ambassador or nothing. Taxis were Ambassadors. Private cars were Ambassadors. It was like the food, you ate curry or you didn’t eat back then. Continue reading India’s first car
How could I be in India without taking at least one photo of a statue of India’s beloved Mahatma? It seemed every Indian vacationing in Pondy wanted to do the same. Continue reading At the feet of Gandhi
In the midst of Pondy was a little green space, Bharathi Park. A walkway skirted the octagonal perimeter under shady trees past a children’s playground. Continue reading Puducherry’s Bharathi Park
I roamed back and forth along streets designated as the French Quarter.
A French tourist staying at my homestay advised I look out for buildings with columns. Most of them were a bit of a disappointment, but at least one stood out as stylish. Continue reading Puducherry’s French Quarter
I stayed in the southern end of Chennai and walked to the closest beach, Foreshore Estate.
I passed under tall shady trees, dilapidated footpaths and cows searching for something to eat before I arrived at a long, wide stretch of beach. This sandy coastline would have been a joy to visit before the invention of plastic. Fishing boats nestled in the sand. Fishers idled in the shade of their boats or untangled their nets. Continue reading Chennai beach walk
It had been forty years since I set foot in India. I landed in the same city that was my original introduction to the country, Chennai (Madras back then).
Some aspects didn’t appear to have changed after all those decades: the wonky footpaths; the constant tooting of horns; the delicious South Indian food; local people friendly and helpful; men still with sarongs doubled up like mini skirts (though now more wore trousers); women in saris (though many had gone to the Punjabi style of dress). Continue reading Tamil Nadu return
I’m still addicted to tantalizing masala chai I drank in Dar es Salaam. After years of experimenting, I have the perfect blend. No packet mixture. Yuck! Continue reading A serious addiction
I noticed something amazing once I arrived in Vietnam. Wherever I wandered, dads carried their children. I observed one dad working in a restaurant while carrying his child . On buses and trains, it was dads doing most of the parenting; even walking up and down the isle of a train with the child over a shoulder trying to get an infant to sleep. Continue reading Vietnamese dads and daughters
On our second tour of Old Cairo, we started at the southern wall of Shari Al-Muiz Li-Din Allah through an arched entrance and walked past one beautiful building after another. There were buildings with intricate wooden latticework, sculptured doors and Arabic calligraphy decorating the walls. Continue reading A stroll through Old Cairo’s Shari Al-Muiz Li-Din Allah