At dockside Liverpool, the buildings were a show piece, the dock appeared recently updated. The old grandeur of the stately buildings gave a glimpse of the city’s past glory.
I did what I had wanted to do since the old Gerry and the Pacemakers’ hit song first rung in my ears, took a ferry across the Mersey. It was the best part of my short visit. Birkenhead and Wallasey on the opposite bank looked inviting as the ferry headed to the mouth of the river. Continue reading Ferry across the Mersey
Recently there was a Bollywood girls only night in my neighbourhood and I had to go.
There were tables of: delicious pakoras and samosas; Indian textiles and jewellery; a bhindi stand; mendhi counter. Above was a screen belting out dated Shahrukh or Aishwarya Bolly Holly movie hits. Continue reading I know you’re thinking India, but think again
North of Quito was Otavalo, famous for its markets: vegetables; woven mats; hand knitted woollens, silver jewellery; panpipes; you name it. Otavalo had it.
Travelling with a pack, I looked but hardly bought. Continue reading The market town of Otavalo
My advice: don’t go to Sentosa Island unless you have children. I knew as I stepped on to the cable car to cross to the island, not to expect much but my daughter wanted to go and I felt like spoiling her after the Tioman Island scare. Continue reading Singapore’s Sentosa Island
We took a grueling nine-hour train journey to Probolinggo, seven of which were without a seat. Sitting on our backpacks near a door, we willed the hours to pass. When we did arrive in the small town, it was after dark. Continue reading Eastern Java’s Probolinggo
Taj photo courtesy: Vinoo202 —Wikimedia Commons
In the Bollywood movie, Mere Brother ki Dulhan, the Taj Mahal couldn’t appear more majestic nor the dancing before the structure. This was how I almost felt peering at the exquisite marble walls and walking below on the echoing steps to view the famous coffins. Never have I seen a building to match its grandeur. Continue reading From my Taj Mahal to Mere Brother ki Dulhan’s version
Delhi Street — Photo courtesy: John Hill — Wikimedia Commons
Or so the A.R. Rahman song goes but I don’t remember the city being my friend. I guess the part of town I stayed in, cheap and crowded, didn’t help; very like the video clip below. Continue reading Delhi Hai Meri Yaar
Photo courtesy: Sukanto Debneith — Wikimedia Commons
One aspect that drove me to the end of my tether in India was Indian music. I’m not talking about the Ravi Shankar sita bita mita stuff. I mean the Bollywood Kollywood genre that pelted out from radios set at top volume with those high pitched female squealers. Continue reading Indian music – Love it or hate it?